Pentecost 3B
June 10, 2018
Genesis 3:8-15; Mark 3:20-35
INTRODUCTION
Last week
when we began working through Mark, I talked about how Mark’s Gospel is a
little rough around the edges because Mark is in such a great hurry to get this
story out. This week I want to expand a bit on that. Part of his rush was that
the world was in turmoil. Mark was writing right as the Great Revolt was coming
to a close – the Jewish people had revolted against the oppressive Roman
Empire. This Revolt culminated with the destruction of the 2nd
Jewish Temple, which is right when Mark is writing. Because of his particular
context, Mark has a very apocalyptic feel to it.
Now, usually
when we say “apocalypse,” we think, “end of the world,” or “final judgment.”
But the original meaning of that word, apocalypse, was, a big hope-filled idea
that dominant powers are not ultimate powers: the message is, when empires fall
and tyrants fade, God is still around. The word actually means a sort of
pulling away of the known, to reveal what’s underneath. [See this video with Nadia Bolz Weber about this understanding of apocalypse.]
And so when
I say Mark is apocalyptic, I mean that Mark shows us how Jesus is pulling back
the reality of the empires and oppressive systems in which we find ourselves,
and showing us what is underneath, showing us that there is another way. For
the first century Christians, this was good news, to hear that the bad guys
wouldn’t win, that the terrifying situation in which they found themselves was
not the final word. But for the powers that be, it was not such good news – and
that is why they push against Jesus’ message, dismissing it and undermining it
however they can.
In our first
story today, we will hear about how from the beginning of time, people have
been quick to point fingers and cast blame elsewhere, and about how this
behavior damages even our most important relationships. In our Gospel reading,
we will see how quick we are to dismiss that which would challenge our beliefs,
that would dare pull back what we have know to reveal something different. We
see this as Jesus’ adversaries are so put off by this that they say he is
possessed by the devil himself. Let’s see how these stories can guide our lives
of faith.
[READ]
 |
| Adam and Eve hide from God |
Grace to you and peace from God our
Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
From the
beginning of time, humans have pointed fingers, dismissed each other’s pain,
and been divided. Since the very first humans, we have hidden ourselves from
one another and from God, hoping that no one else will have to see our
insecurities, that if we put up a strong front and deflect any blame, then we
can continue to hold onto our beliefs, no matter how misguided.
It’s no
wonder division has been a mark of human society from society’s very inception.
I have
always loved this scene in Genesis, where the insecure Adam and Eve hide
themselves from God, and as soon as they are called out on their shenanigans
they point fingers anywhere else to keep themselves safe. I just see so much of
my own experience in this story. Because don’t we all want to be safe?
Physically safe, sure, but I mean, emotionally, intellectually, and spiritually
safe. We don’t want our deeply held beliefs to be challenged, we don’t want to
admit that someone else could be right, and we definitely don’t want to admit
that we are wrong, especially not in front of anyone else. And so we blame,
blame, blame, even if it means throwing someone else under the bus, and cast
people’s attention anywhere else to discredit the thing that might accuse us.
The behavior
is very obvious in the Adam and Eve story. But it’s pretty clear in our story
from Mark, too. Jesus has been pretty busy, healing a lot of people, casting
out demons, and most recently, appointing his twelve disciples. Now they are
back to business, having headed to Jesus’ hometown. And people are watching.
And they are getting nervous, because what Jesus is saying and doing these days
is an affront to the powers that be, and does not jibe with their understanding
of God. As I said in the introduction, Jesus’ message is an apocalyptic one,
pulling back the cover and revealing the truth about how Roman rule is not
ultimate rule, and that in fact God’s power is not revealed in domination, but
rather in reaching out to and serving those on the fringes of society. They had
expected the Messiah to be a military power, to overthrow the government by
force, but here is this carpenter, reaching out to the fringes!
In response to this counter-cultural
message, what do the religious authorities do? Do they thank him very much for
directing their attention back to the God they love? No… Do they say, “Tell us
more about that. It’s intriguing, and we realize we might be missing something
in our understanding of the world.” No.... They do just as Adam and Eve did and
more: they hide from the truth and instead offer false information. “He’s
crazy,” they say. “He’s lost his mind. He’s clearly possessed by the devil.”
Discredit, dismiss, do whatever you need to do in order to protect your
understanding of the world, no matter how misguided it may be, from being
challenged.
Jesus’ response to this is a very
logical one: “a house divided cannot stand,” he says. Basically, how could he
be using the spirit of Satan to cast out Satan? Why would Satan work against
himself? It doesn’t make sense.
And yet, the irony in his response is
that working against ourselves is exactly what we humans do all the time. We
choose what does not bring life. We let the voice of the devil convince us we
are unlovable, even though we know ours is a God of love. We drive wedges
between ourselves and other children of God by casting blame on one another,
labeling and dismissing each other, and clinging to false truths. When we feel
the movement of the Holy Spirit blowing us in a way that scares us, or that requires
us to let go of a belief that does not bring life but does provide us a sense
of safety, we shut it down, and convince ourselves that we know better than the
Spirit.
I keep going
back to Mark as apocalyptic, about how Jesus’ ways and words pull back what we
thought was true, and, if we are humble enough to see it, reveal to us a
different way that is of God. What is that different way?
Our keynote
speaker last week at Synod Assembly was Ruben Duran, who works out of the
Churchwide office with new congregations throughout the ELCA. In his address,
he talked about being “detectives of divinity” – willing to really look for God
not only in our congregation, but out in the public arena. Sometimes this is
pretty easy – whenever we see good happening, we assume God must be there! Where
being detectives of divinity gets a lot harder is in those Adam and Eve
moments, those Mark moments, when we are suddenly confronted with the
possibility that everything we previously held true might in fact be wrong, or
at least not completely right, and we are immediately inclined to blame, point
fingers, name-call, discredit, dismiss, and continue to hold onto whatever view
it is that makes us feel safe.
These are very human defense
mechanisms. They are “safe.” But they
are not life. And that, in the end, is what our faith is based on: it is a
story that is rooted in death but does not stay there. The story of our faith
is one in which the government put to death a man who challenged what they held
dear, thinking that this would put him out of sight and mind, that it would
silence this opposing and resistant power, that it would keep safe their
beliefs and way of life. But it didn’t
work. Instead, Jesus rose from the dead and showed the world once and for
all that trying to stifle God’s Word of life would get us nowhere, that no
human actions can stop God from being a God of life, a God of new life that emerges out of death. We
can’t stop it!
So yes, recognizing we are wrong can
feel very much like a death – it is death to something we held dear. It is a
death I have experienced many times in my life! But what if instead of leaning
into the death by jumping to the human tendencies to blame, discredit, and
dismiss, what if we looked rather to the possibility of new life, by taking a
moment to ask ourselves, “Where is God in this? What is God pulling back to
reveal to me in this? What belief of mine is being threatened, and why do I
insist on holding to it even more tightly, even at the expense of my
relationships? Where is life trying to emerge here?”
If we did this, I wonder what would
happen to our relationships with those from whom we feel divided? Because Jesus
is right – a house divided cannot stand. Neither can a church divided, or a
country divided, or a family divided. The breach must be healed. So let us seek
to be “detectives of divinity,” brothers and sisters, finding God in one
another. Let us, when we feel challenged, seek to find how God is working
there, not to shame us, but to bring about new life. If we did that, we might find
we are able to overcome division. We might even find ourselves to be a new sort
of family, united by our shared desire to do the will of God
I think I’m willing to take the risk
– even if someone thinks I’m out of my mind for it! Are you willing to take
that risk with me?
Let us pray… Uniting God, we are prone to discredit and dismiss people and ideas
that challenge our beliefs. Yet we also know you are at work in everything,
taking what feels like a death, and turning it into life. Help us to be
detectives of divinity, always searching for the ways you are bringing about new
life. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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