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Lent 2B
February 28, 2021
Genesis 17:1-7, 15-16
Mark 8:31-38
INTRODUCTION
If I had to choose one word to describe our readings today, it would be TRUST. We’ll hear the Abrahamic covenant, which is the quintessential story of trust, in which God tells Abraham, who is 99 years old, that he and Sarah, his spritely 90-year-old wife, will be father and mother of a great nation, even though they have until now been barren. Paul will tell us in the reading from Romans how remarkable Abraham’s faith and trust in this covenant is. And in our Gospel reading, just before it, actually, Jesus has asked his disciples to declare who they believe him to be, and then (and we will hear this) what that declaration implies. This may seem like no big deal, except for the location of this conversation. Just before today’s reading, Mark will have told us that they are in Caesarea Philippi, which is big-time Gentile country, pagan country. In other words, a place where confessing Jesus as the Messiah could get someone killed! And yet Peter does: when Jesus asks, “Who do you say that I am?” Peter responds, “You’re the Messiah.” Gutsy! For moment, Peter is a hero, but once Jesus starts telling them what that means (which is what we will hear today), Peter is not so sure Jesus should be saying these things, and well, we’ll see what happens next. Point is, this is a story about trusting God, trusting Jesus, even when the going gets tough – a lesson that the disciples, and we, are still learning!
As you listen, watch for those trust images, and consider what it means to trust God in whatever difficult situations you might be facing in life right now. Let’s listen.
[READ]
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
Here’s a bit of news from the Rehbaum family: we have started looking at some houses because we are interested in moving sometime this spring. This is a hard decision because while we don’t love our current house (hence the desire to move), we do love our location – its proximity to so much of what we need, walkability to a lot of things including schools, playgrounds, groceries, parks, library, awesome neighbors… It has been really hard, especially in this market, to not only find a great, affordable new house, but to find one that has some similar perks to our current location!
Of course, anyone in real estate could tell you the importance of that: location is everything. What you may not have realized is that this is also true in biblical interpretation! And this is particularly true for today’s Gospel reading, which cannot be understood apart from both its geographic and its narrative location. Last week I talked about how Jesus in Mark is all about crossing boundaries, from that first moment when the heavens are torn apart at his baptism, to his last moment when the temple curtain is torn at his death. Today’s story is another boundary-breaking one. As I mentioned, this exchange takes place in Caesarea Philippi, basically, “Caesar-ville of Herod” (Herod Philip) – the land of Gentiles, pagans and allegiance to the Roman Empire. The disciples here are WAY out of their comfort zones, having crossed into a place that is the very essence of the oppressive Empire – that is, the Roman Empire. In other words, here is where this life of faith, of following Jesus, suddenly gets quite a bit riskier. Following Jesus is not just about miraculous healings, stilling storms, and feeding 5000 people with a few loaves of bread. In this place, in the heart of The Empire, is where a life of faith get serious.
If this doesn’t make you uncomfortable, let’s take a look at how Peter responds. Remember, he has, just before today’s reading, confessed that Jesus is the Messiah. We might miss the magnitude and impact of that statement from where we stand, knowing the whole story as we do, but remember again the location: here, in a city named for the current political leaders, Peter says that Jesus is the Messiah, a title usually reserved for royal triumph, and for the restoration of Israel. Like, King David was called Messiah, which means, anointed one. By calling Jesus the “Messiah,” Peter is in essence suggesting he wants the ruling government overturned. He is expressing his hope that Jesus will be a kingly ruler who will overcome the current political rulers, beat back the oppressive Empire, and restore Israel – and he says this right there in the city of Caesarea Philippi! Woosh! That is some serious guts, as well as deep faith, from Peter!
But even though Peter’s confession is true, Jesus doesn’t want this information out just yet. “Don’t tell anyone,” he says. Then he goes on, and this is the part that we heard a moment ago. Jesus starts talking about himself in the 3rd person, but the title he uses for himself is the opposite of what Peter has just confessed: he calls himself, “Son of Man.” The human one – who will suffer, be rejected, and die at the hands of that very Empire Peter had assumed Jesus was there to destroy.
Boy oh boy, if I were Peter, I would be… scared, reactive, and indignant! I would do the same as Peter does here, and rebuke Jesus! “No, Jesus! What are you talking about? You’re the Messiah, the winner, the one who defeats all those people! You can’t suffer and die if you’re the Messiah!” And there would probably also be a bit of doubt and frustration: “If you’re just gonna suffer and die like the rest of us, then why did we give up everything to follow you?” Yes, I can certainly feel Peter’s pain here. I, too, often jump to rebuke when I feel scared, or lack understanding.
Of course, in my case and in Peter’s, that tendency toward rebuke is a reaction, and not always fully thought-out. And Jesus calls him on it, first calling Peter “satan,” meaning adversary, and then adding, “Step back, dude, you’re thinking like a human. You need to set your mind not on human ways, but on divine ways.” Ahh, another thing Peter and I have in common! Especially when the going gets scary or demanding, we so often retreat into ourselves, trusting our own, human ways rather than the ways of God! But Jesus has a different way of doing things.
Jesus’ next words, Mark tells us, are directed to “the crowds.” Remember, Mark is always leaving room for us to enter into the story ourselves, and so when Jesus “calls the crowd,” we can assume Mark intends for us, the readers, to be a part of that crowd. To them, and to us, Jesus says, “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 find it.” This is one of Jesus’ most well-known statements, and also one of the most misused and misunderstood. So often we hear this as a call to “suck it up” and bear our suffering without complaint, like Jesus did. It has been used to send women back into abusive relationships, to keep slaves submissive to their masters, to quiet those who would speak up about their abuse, instead insisting that, “This is just the way it is. It is your cross to bear. Now don’t rock the boat.”
But this could hardly be further from what Jesus is saying here! Jesus is not asking us to endure suffering for the sake of suffering, nor to endure it for the sake of keeping the status quo. In fact, I’d argue he is saying the opposite! Jesus teaches that true life comes when we live for others, when we pursue love, justice, peace, and life – just like he did. Love, justice, peace, life – that’s the gospel. Yet this way of living was contrary to life under the Roman Empire, so much so that anyone who spoke out against this Empire would be punished by death, even death on a cross. Rome used the threat of the cross, of crucifixion, to silence and execute dissidents.
So when Jesus says, “Take up your cross,” the original audience would have heard that as a direct reference to Rome’s ways. It would have even sounded like a rally cry, like, “So Rome wants to threaten our way of life with a cross, to subdue our teachings of love and justice with violence? Bring it on. Take up your cross, and do not return their violence with more violence, because that violence will never bring peace.” The myth of redemptive violence – the belief that evil must be punished by violence – is indeed a lie, and contrary to the gospel of Jesus. Almost always, violence only begets more violence.
Turns out, Jesus was quite the revolutionary! And, an original proponent of non-violent resistance, the sort that we saw during the Civil Rights Movement and in other movements since. And, Jesus was not afraid to stand up to an oppressive government if that was what was required in order for people, especially people on the margins, to have life. Be willing to lose your life “for the sake of the gospel,” he says, for the sake of love, justice and peace. Be willing to give everything you’ve got for this gospel of life.
And this is as contemporary a message today as it was then. This week in Rochester we learned that there will be no indictments in the Daniel Prude case that played out in our Rochester streets, because the police followed protocols. That doesn’t mean we put this story away and move on – it means we work to change protocols, train police for mental health crises, anything to keep something like this from happening again, to create systems in which people get not violence, but they get what they need. A few weeks ago, a frantic and emotional 9-year-old girl in Rochester was pepper-sprayed by police and handcuffed. 9 years old! Again, even if they were following protocols, this is an abysmal protocol, and something needs to change.
Take up your cross, Jesus bids us, and do what I would do. Stand up to the ruling powers for the sake of those in need, for the sake of love, for the sake of the gospel. Work not to keep the status quo, but toward bringing peace to this world, and if those in power would threaten you with the cross, with punishment, stand by the values of your faith in Christ. Be willing to lose something of this fleeting life, if it is for the sake of bringing greater life to God’s children. Because that sort of risk, finally, is what Jesus makes possible. He shows us, by his own willingness to go to the cross for the sake of our life, that such loss is no punishment to one who believes in the resurrection. Because he shows us that, even in death, God wins. It’s a difficult call, to be sure – much more difficult than marveling at the abundant bread, or the stilled storm, or the incredible healing. Jesus does those things, too. But ultimately, it is all for the sake of life – for us, and for all those whom God loves.
Let us pray… Life-giving God, you do not want anyone to suffer. And so you call us into your mission, to bring life to all those in need, in whatever way we are able. Embolden us to accept your call, for the sake of the gospel. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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