Listen to what???

24 02 2009

Mark 9:2-9
Sermon preached at Southminster Presbyterian Church

Today is Transfiguration Sunday. Each year, before we enter the Season of Lent, we spend some time looking at the texts of Jesus’ transfiguration—when he takes a few of his disciples and goes up on the mountainside. Matthew, Mark, and Luke each tell the story a little differently, but this year, the Lectionary gives us Mark’s account.
And for Mark, this story is about identity. Just previous to this section, Jesus asks his disciples who people are saying he is.
“Some say Moses, some say Elijah”, they tell him.
“But who do you say I am?”
Peter says, “You are the Messiah”.
Awareness of Jesus’ identity is growing for the disciples, but they don’t fully understand this Messiah they are following yet.
Then we have the religious authorities, who have no idea who Jesus really is, but they’ve seen enough to decide they want to kill him, to silence his calls for justice and inclusion.

And who do we say that Jesus is?
It is as if Mark is following along in our minds and knows that the readers are asking those questions too—who do we say that he is?
Mark puts the transfiguration smack dab in the center of his gospel, ready to give us the clearest image yet of who Jesus is—and for Mark, Jesus is standing in the long line of prophets who have been persecuted by the Powers that be. The imagery would have been unmistakable to his first audience. Jesus goes up a mountain, just like the prophet Moses had done to receive the law.
He shines brightly, dazzling white such as no one on earth could bleach them. This would have brought up images from the Book of Daniel. Chapter 7, beginning with verse 9. Listen to Daniel:
As I watched,
thrones were set in place,
and an Ancient One took his throne;
his clothing was white as snow,
and the hair of his head like pure wool;
his throne was fiery flames,
and its wheels were burning fire.

As I watched in the night visions,
I saw one like a human being
coming with the clouds of heaven.
And he came to the Ancient One
and was presented before him.
To him was given dominion
and glory and kingship,
that all peoples, nations, and languages
should serve him.
His dominion is an everlasting dominion
that shall not pass away,
and his kingship is one
that shall never be destroyed.

The reference to dazzling white clothing isn’t there to make compelling laundry soap commercials. It is there to connect Jesus to the Book of Daniel. And when Jesus talks on the mountain, he is in conversation with Elijah, who is the ultimate prophet, and Moses, who is the embodiment of the Law. Mark wants to make sure we understand that Jesus’ authority doesn’t come from himself. It is more than a fulfillment of the law and the prophets. Jesus authority is greater than the law and the prophets.
After the transfiguration, it seems difficult to just think of Jesus as another teacher or healer. Although Peter tried, at first. He wanted to build tents to commemorate the event. He wanted to keep this experience somehow in the realm of human understanding. And perhaps you can explain away Jesus’ teaching and healing and charisma in terms that people can easily understand. But the disciples experience of the Transfiguration was too unbelievable to explain away.
The disciples who went on the hike up the mountain with Jesus were overcome with fear as they observed the Transfiguration. This wasn’t a fear that you bravely overcome the way Indiana Jones conquered his fear of snakes. This was heart stopping terror.
And in every picture of the transfiguration that I was able to find, the disciples all looked just like this 15th Century Russian Icon. One of them is turned away in horror. The other two are upside down, falling off the mountain almost.
And while any piece of this transfiguration puzzle, individually, might have been enough to provoke this terror, I wonder if something else was occurring to them. Because, immediately before the transfiguration, Jesus had told them about what was to come.
“Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. He said all this quite openly.
He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, ‘If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? Indeed, what can they give in return for their life?”

When Jesus started talking about suffering, death, carrying crosses, the disciples tried to stop him, to dismiss his words. But here, at the Transfiguration, do they become terrified because his words might have been true? I wonder if the only thing that might be more frightening to them than Jesus talking in the clouds with two long dead prophets is the prediction of the crucifixion and resurrection.

I had always heard this text and figured that God’s voice from the clouds contributed to the terror. But I noticed this week that they are terrified long before God speaks to them.
And what does God say, when the Divine voice speaks? “This is my Son, the Beloved: Listen to him!!!”
God’s message to the disciples is that they should listen to and believe what Jesus has been telling them. Namely—rejection, suffering, cross bearing, death, and resurrection are essential requirements in the Messiah job description.

By the end of this text, it is pretty clear that Mark thinks the key to understanding who Jesus is involves obeying God’s command to “Listen to him!” Which means that “Jesus self-identifies as the Messiah who will be rejected and killed by the establishment, who will rise on the third day and return in glory.”
And if that is who Jesus is—then who are we as we try to be his disciples?
While it is hard to imagine the recruiting posters that read—pick up your cross! Lose your life for my sake!—we shouldn’t overlook the greater promise here. “Taking up your cross” has often been code language for passive suffering for Jesus’ sake. But Jesus doesn’t passively suffer. Jesus suffers because he stands in the way of worldly powers who stand against God’s realm. So, to be disciples does mean that we acknowledge that there are consequences that go along with standing on God’s side. When Jesus conquered death on the cross, it showed that God’s way is stronger than the powers of the world. This is Good News!

Jesus was briefly transfigured before his disciples on that mountain, and then told them not to talk about it until after his death and resurrection. It is as if Jesus knew that even the transfiguration wasn’t going to be quite enough to help the disciples see his identity clearly. Only in light of the cross will Jesus’ identity make sense and bring hope to followers who want to believe, but who just can’t see it yet.

We are entering the season of Lent, which begins this Wednesday with Ash Wednesday services here in the Sanctuary at 6:30. In addition to Sunday worship during Lent, we invite you to join us each week for Wednesday night services of prayer, scripture, singing, and silence. Larry Andrews has been working on the website and it now has the Daily Lectionary passages listed at the bottom of the page, so if you would like to read Scripture each day as a Lenten practice, the website can help with that.

However you use this Lenten season to prepare for Easter, I hope that you will keep this Transfiguration story in the back of your mind as we move to the cross. Together, let us keep working to be disciples, trusting God’s voice that tells us to listen to, to believe, what Jesus says to us. Amen.





Short Cuts

15 02 2009

A Sermon preached at Southminster Presbyterian
February 15, 2009

2 Kings 5:1-15
Mark 1:40-45

I’ve been thinking a lot about short cuts this week. We heard Alex Rodriguez join the list of athletes who chose performance enhancing drugs as a short cut to athletic performance. And are those athletes any different than Bernie Madoff and his ponzi scheme or the bank executives whose shoddy financial practices led to economic trouble for all of us? Or our national policies of continually cutting taxes as we run up deficits? And we consumers have taken short cuts too. Rather than saving our money to make our purchases, we have gone for immediate gratification and run up our credit card debt. We have become a nation of short cut takers.
And we see short cuts in our Old Testament text as well. The Syrian commander Naaman wanted a short cut. He had leprosy.
Naaman’s wife’s servant girl, who happens to be from Israel, tells them that there is a prophet in Israel who can cure him. The King of Aram, or what is today Syria, sends Naaman to Samaria with all support—a letter, money and gifts for the King of Israel—After presenting his awesome display of wealth and power, Naaman shows up at Elisha’s house with his horses and chariots, and is hoping that Elisha will walk outside, wave his magic wand and make him all better. There is a sense of entitlement about it all, isn’t there? As if bringing enough gold and silver to scare the pants off the king of Israel weren’t enough, Naaman brings horses and chariots, an impressive display of military might, to the home of a prophet. It is as if Naaman thinks, “once he realizes how important I am, he’ll heal me quickly.”
But Elisha does not just walk out, say “shazaam” and heal Naaman. He tells him to go bathe seven times in the Jordan River to be made clean.
And Naaman gets angry. He takes his chariots and horses and pouts off, “I thought that for me he surely would come out and stand and call on the name of the Lord his God, and would wave his hand over the spot and cure my leprosy.”
I don’t know about you, but I hear that and think, “boo hoo Whiny Baby McWhinerson.”
And Elisha, as far as we know, has gone back to lying on his sofa, watching Seinfeld re-runs on TV. Which is probably just as well. Had Elisha seen that little display, would he have taken back his words?
In any case, it appears that Naaman’s best gift is having servants who will tell him the truth. Because his plucky servants give him a new perspective on his shortcuts and say to him, “um sir….if the prophet had told you to do something really difficult, wouldn’t you have done it? All you have to do is bathe in the Jordan.”
Immediately, Naaman recognizes the truth in their words and he goes and does the work needed to be made clean.
Because the reality is that the work that is necessary to be made clean isn’t always that difficult. There will be things we have to do. It will take our time. It might require us to swallow our pride. Naaman, you’ll recall, in the midst of his whining, declares that the rivers of Syria are far better than the Jordan. Why would he bathe in that dinky river when he could bathe in a far more powerful river? But being made clean isn’t about being impressive. It is about following directions.
What do we need to do to be made clean?

I said earlier that we are a nation of short cutters. And in many situations, I think that is true. But this week, I saw a lot of people who were not looking for short cuts. I don’t know how many of you went to any of the Special Olympics Winter Games. But I went down to Qwest Arena to cheer on the figure skaters Thursday. It was great. These men and women from all around the world have been working and training for years for this moment. And they were overcoming difficulties that most of us can’t even imagine. They took no short cuts to get here. They did not use performance enhancing drugs.
They didn’t have endorsements. They will not become celebrities or host Saturday Night Live.
And the volunteers. I know that some people from this congregation volunteered their time to make these Olympics happen. The sheer number of volunteer hours it took to bring this off is staggering.

I don’t know how many of you have heard the stories of the blue and white scarves. The coordinators made plans in 2007 to make scarves for all 2,000 Special Olympians. That would have been great and would have been a big undertaking. But when they put out the plea to knitters and crocheters to create the scarves, they received over 60,000 of them. People from all over the country and all around the world contributed scarves so that there would be plenty to go around. Nursing home knitting groups, girl scout troops, women who knit as they went through chemo treatments for cancer. Each of these scarves tells a story of people who didn’t take short cuts. All of this to show hospitality to the Olympians.
And if you were to talk with people who volunteered at the Special Olympics, I suspect you would discover that all of them received more than they gave. The sacrifice of time and effort was more than offset by the hugs and smiles they received from the Olymipans. I’m sure the volunteers didn’t need cleansing from leprosy, but like Naaman, perhaps they were made clean, their souls were restored because of the work they performed.

So, in addition to the question about what is it that we need to do to be made clean, I’ll add another.
What do we do in response to being made clean?
Naaman goes back to Elisha’s house and rings the doorbell. Elisha gets up off the couch and comes to his front porch. Naaman says, “Now I know that there is no God in all the earth except in Israel.”
Naaman responds to his healing with praise. And his praise is a form of thanksgiving.
Because when you are made clean, you realize that your future is much more hopeful than you had previously believed. When you are made clean, you appreciate your blessings.

Our Gospel story this morning is also a leprosy healing story. But our leper here is nameless and presumably does not have the social or political power that Naaman had. He comes to Jesus and begs him, saying, “If you choose, you can make me clean.”
Jesus reaches out his hand and touches him, saying, “I do choose. Be made clean.” Immediately, he was healed. No bathing in the Jordan for this leper. And this leper doesn’t stop and say “thanks”, exactly, but he went out and began to proclaim it freely. His praise is evangelism. This might be the best model of evangelism I can think of in the New Testament, actually. This nameless man does everything he can do to make sure that everyone else hears the Good News of Jesus Christ. Not to save people from hell or to be able to tell his friends how many souls he’s saved, but out of gratitude for what has been given to him.
I’m not sure that we today can understand the stigma that came with leprosy in those days.
Ancient societies, including 1st century Palestine, operated from the assumption that uncleanness was contagious. In other words, if you touched a person who was unclean, you would also be unclean. So, lepers were among the people who were kept separate from society. And while there may have been a medical component to this uncleanness, the people of the day considered it to be a religious problem. Leprosy was considered a punishment for sin. And if the disease went away, there were rituals at the Temple that were required of the person before they could be made clean again and reenter society. Jesus even tells the healed man to go to the priest.
So, when Jesus reached out and touched the leper, he should have been contaminated by the man’s uncleanness. He should have been made unclean.

But that’s not what happened. When the Son of God touches someone, he makes them clean. The cleanness of Jesus is stronger than any of our uncleanness.
When Jesus reached out, touched, and healed an unclean man, the leper may or may not have consciously grasped the huge change in how the world was ordered. But on some level, he knew it was good news and he went out to proclaim it freely.
As we continue to go through Mark’s gospel, be on the lookout for other places where Jesus’ touch makes people clean. And let us be on the lookout for the times in our own lives when Jesus’ touch makes us clean, so we too, may go out to proclaim it freely. Amen.





Holy Chaos

2 02 2009

A Sermon preached at Southminster Presbyterian Church
February 1, 2009

Mark 1:21-28

There’s a word that the author of Mark’s gospel uses over and over again—immediately. English translators, in an effort to make his language easier on our ears, often leave it out. As they do in this passage. But, as we read through Mark this year, consider that the word “immediately” is providing a drumbeat through this text. Mark wants to make sure we know that time is moving. Time is marching, and quickly, toward the conclusion of this story. Jesus is marching through this Gospel, with no time for dillydallying. When we hear Mark say “immediately”, it should call us back to the moment at hand. It should remind us that following Jesus, becoming people who fish for people, isn’t about something that will happen sometime in the distant future. It is about right now. This very moment.

The newly appointed disciples have just left their nets by the shore when, immediately, they go to Capernaum. Not a big commute. It is town very near the shore of the Sea of Galilee. And the Sabbath arrives, so Jesus enters the synagogue and teaches. On behalf of all teachers everywhere, let me express my dismay that Mark does not record Jesus’ lesson plans from his synagogue teaching. Because the congregation was astounded at his teaching. Just what all teachers everywhere are aiming for. Leaving the crowds ASTOUNDED!

But, in the middle of this astounding teaching, immediately a man with an unclean spirit appears, interrupting the lesson. “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are—the Holy One of God.”

We could get hung up on what it means for this man to have an unclean spirit. But we won’t. Because I don’t have an explanation. And Jesus doesn’t call his disciples to gather around the bedside and make a diagnosis either.

But remember what has already happened in this first chapter of the gospel—the heavens were torn apart and the Holy Spirit descended, until it landed on Jesus. So, Jesus, the man with the Holy Spirit is now, a few verses later, immediately, engaging a man with an unclean, or unholy Spirit.

The heavens have been opened and the battle that is being waged is nothing less than cosmic. From the beginning of Mark’s gospel, it is apparent that the demonic, the unclean spirits, are on their way out. The hold and authority they have had in the world is coming to an end. The beginning of the Good News!

So, this possessed man speaks to Jesus. And notice what he says, “I know who you are, the Holy One of God.” So the first voice in Mark’s gospel who proclaims Jesus’ identity is God’s voice at Jesus’ baptism. The second voice to proclaim it is an unclean spirit. Even the demonic realm knows and proclaims Jesus’ identity. What will become clear to the human characters (or at least to some of them) by the end of the gospel is immediately known by the cosmic realm at the beginning.

But Jesus silences this Spirit and commands it to leave the man. Because when you are possessed by unclean spirits, you are not free to live the life to which you have been called by God. And Jesus’ call is to freedom, and wholeness and new life.

We had an encounter here at Southminster this past week that I saw in new ways because of this text. Last week, as the New Member class was ending, a man named Tim showed up at the church seeking help. He asked if we had clothing vouchers so he could get another set of clothes. He appeared to be carrying all of his possessions on his back. I was actually in another part of the building when he arrived, but by the time I came downstairs and met him, he’d been given some cookies we had left over from the class and people were talking with him about places he could go for shelter. Our congregation does provide gas vouchers to people, but we don’t have clothes laying around. So, some of the people who had met and welcomed Tim told him they would get him a set of clothes and leave them at the church for him in the morning. And they did. And he came back in the morning, changed his clothes and went off. And then he came back that afternoon and I saw him visiting with Martin, who was waiting for the personnel committee meeting to start. Tim wanted to want to warm up and be out of the cold.
There was no exorcism performed on Tim, per se. But what happened was that people from this congregation looked past his unclean spirit and asked him his name. They treated him with dignity and hospitality and grace. And, truthfully, whatever demons he has that led to his homeless status, are probably still in effect. The calling out of demons, in this passage, at least, is what Jesus does. We don’t have his authority.

But we have been called by Jesus to become people who fish for people. So that means that when we encounter people who are burdened by demons of homelessness, as Tim is, we greet them as children of God and set about the work of bringing them into the knowledge of God’s love in Christ.

And here’s the problem. It is awkward and uncomfortable. Tim is a very nice guy, but this church building and staff are not set up to have people wandering through the building all day. There are very real and legitimate concerns when Mary is by herself in the building for a few hours each day.

I don’t think Tim came back to cause problems. I believe Tim came back because people greeted him with dignity and grace. Because he was treated like a beloved child of God. So, there are consequences for us to consider as we follow God’s call.

One commentator on this passage sums it up this way. We are invited to follow Jesus into “Mark’s world of Jesus walking around possessed by the power of the Spirit of God. In such a world, you either go with him and help him create the holy chaos he’s creating or you find a way to do everything you can to stop him so you can get your people back in line.” (Brian K Blount and Gary W. Charles, Preaching Mark in Two Voices (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2003) p. 33.)

If we take seriously Jesus’ command to “follow me, and I will make you fishers of people”, we are walking into holy chaos.

Perhaps this scene with the unclean spirit is the teaching of Jesus that astounded the crowd. Mark doesn’t tell us, so it is possible that Jesus had preached an amazing sermon before this encounter, but I suspect that it was what Jesus did, more than what he said, that left the crowds astounded. “What is this?”, the crowds ask. “A new teaching—with authority!”

And while words do matter, I hope we’ll pay attention to how much more loudly our actions speak. Had Jesus just spoken a message of grace and inclusion but then told the man to leave the synagogue because unclean people weren’t welcome there, nobody would have been astounded. His teaching would have been forgotten.

One of my favorite quotes is by St. Francis of Asissi, who said, “Preach the gospel at all times. If necessary, use words.”

That’s what happened here this week. It is one thing to say that we believe that every person we meet is a beloved child of God. It is a different thing, entirely, to treat each person we meet as a beloved child of God. It is Holy Chaos!

Jesus’ actions and authority were a new teaching for the world. And the news of his actions immediately spread throughout the region of Galilee, Mark tells us. That news is still spreading, friends. We have a community that needs to hear that news. Not because we need our church to be bigger. Not because we think that the state of their salvation is our job. But we have good news to share because we believe that when Jesus acts, things happen. We have good news to share because the unclean and unholy realm no longer has the final say. In a broken and fearful world, the Spirit gives us courage to walk out into our neighborhood, sharing Christ’s Holy Chaos, and giving people Hope for the future and Hope for today. Immediately. Amen.