Reading: Mark 8:27-38
(Jesus and his disciples journey a little beyond their usual territory. They are north of Galilee in the Greco-Roman region of Caesarea Philippi. It's a little more pagan than they are used to in Galilee, with Roman imperial offices and shrines to a variety of Greek and Roman deities dotting the countryside.
Even more unsettling is the conversation Jesus initiates about going to Jerusalem to die, and about the necessity of taking up a cross if anyone wants to follow him. Shortly after this story, a few days later Jesus is transfigured in heavenly glory before three of his disciples, after which they all belong the long, southward journey to Jerusalem.)
Most of us probably have
some experience with selfishness. I’m sure
we all know people absorbed with their own opinions, their own feelings, their
own wants, and their own significance in the grand scheme of things. One way we know them is how hard it is to be
around them for long without wanting to get away. It’s tiring to be just an audience to someone
else’s performance, or an actor just playing a role in someone else’s drama.
Part of the problem,
of course, is we tend to identify selfishness most easily in others. It’s difficult to see our own. Most of us – I include myself in this, can be
completely oblivious to the ways in which we
are absorbed in our own opinions, our own feelings, our own wants, and our
own significance in the grand scheme of things. We don’t notice it, because it’s about us. But I’m guessing we all have some experience
in practicing selfishness, and of having others more aware of it than we are
ourselves.
This may be one
reason our gospel lesson this morning is hard to hear.
In the story, Jesus announces
to his disciples that his commitment to the justice, peace and freedom of God’s
kingdom – what makes him God’s messiah, is going to end him up in Jerusalem to
die, and sooner rather than later. And he
tells those around him if they want to be his disciples, they too must deny
themselves, take up their crosses, and follow him.
Now, a couple of
things about this. This thing about his
going to Jerusalem to die: in the context of this story, this has nothing to do
with any theology of a perfect Son having to die a substitutionary death to
appease the wrath of a righteous Father in order to save us from judgement. That really isn’t part of Jesus’ theology,
and if it were he would not go on to say we too need to take up our cross and
do likewise. It just wouldn’t follow.
He has something else
on his mind here. Rather than some legal-religious
obligation to God, he’s talking about the real-life, down-to-earth consequence of
living the way he is living. The
practical and political consequence of living the kingdom of God as fully and
openly as he is across social and political boundaries, and against the
interests of the ruling classes. People
die when they do that, and he knows he will be one of them. But he is committed enough to the vision and to
the coming of this kingdom for the good of others, the good of the earth, and the
good of himself with others that he is willing to do that – to give himself and
his life for it.
Another thing is, when
Jesus connects the cross we are called to pick up with self-denial, it’s not
the kind of self-denial we are called to practice in Lent. Or that we practice in more secular kinds of
Lent like weight-loss programs or any other self-improvement discipline we might
take up for a while for our own good.
Those kinds of things
are good. But when it comes to the cross
and self-denial, Jesus is talking about something other than
self-improvement. He’s talking about moving
beyond self-interest altogether, and about focusing instead on the interests
and needs of others – whoever “the other” may be, and however “other” they may
be from me. And to accept the cost of
doing that, whatever it may be.
Which is easy to say,
not so easy to live.
Just think of how slowly
self-denial and the way of the cross unfolded for Jesus and his disciples. It starts in Galilee with teaching and
healing fellow Jews. There is risk and
recklessness in the way Jesus does it – in the ways he reaches across the
boundaries that divide people up into sub-groups, and the new kind of community
he establishes. Some people – especially
the poor and the powerless, love it, and others – especially the powerful and
privileged, hate it. But it all takes place
in familiar territory, among their own people, in the midst of traditions, practices
and expectations they share with others around them. As hard as it is, it’s all still just a
family affair.
Until the journeys start
to lead out, bit by bit, beyond the border and into Gentile territory. It starts innocently as a way of reaching the
Jews who live there. But step by step, journey
by journey, it gets to be more. A big
turning-point we looked at two weeks ago is the encounter with the
Syro-Phoenician woman who opens Jesus’ eyes – and his heart, to the place that she
has, and that he needs to honour in God’s kingdom and God’s care. After that, there’s the Gentile man who is
deaf and dumb, whose friends bring him to Jesus for healing, and who Jesus just
can’t refuse.
And suddenly a whole
new world begins to open. A world beyond
self and one’s own circle – a world defined instead by the other – whoever the
other may be, and however other they may be.
A world with globalized rather than localized good news. A universal rather than a national
gospel. An inclusive rather than
exclusive kingdom of God. With Jesus no
longer bound by the limited horizon of his Jewish tribe and Galilean family, opened
to a way of life greater, more satisfying, and more fulfilling than the way of
self-concern can ever be.
We know this in our
own lives, any time something draws us out – any time we have one of those
turning-points towards really caring for someone and honestly caring about something
beyond ourselves. How often do we say,
or hear others tell us, how in reaching out to care for someone else totally
other, often in some alien or scary place, it’s the one doing the stepping-out
and the reaching-out who is the one blessed, saved and made bigger by the
encounter?
We know it here in
our own church life as we try to follow Jesus and the way he teaches us to be
his body in the world. For a small
church we do a lot. And I don’t mean just
peeling peaches and making and selling pies and serving spaghetti to raise
funds, which is a lot. But also making
and serving dinner at the Wesley Centre, collecting for three or four different
Christmas compassion projects at the most expensive and hectic time of the year,
contributing year-round to a food bank, reaching out to support City Kidz in
Hamilton and Banyala in Burkina Faso, and on top of this seeing some of our
members going out to serve the needs of people in Peru, Bolivia, Haiti, the Dominican
and next year in Zambia, just because they have the chance to.
In the name of Jesus
as the Christ, as this little part of the body that he is in the world, we make
the journey over and over again beyond self and into the realm of new and true
life. It’s a journey we make with Jesus
together as a church, and a journey each one of us makes with Jesus in our
personal lives.
And we welcome new life
here as well – into our own little place, as we welcome others in. We’re opening the doors a bit. Inviting folks in, one event at a time, to
have a safe and good place to gather for whatever they need.
Parker Neale – chair
of Council, mentioned Tuesday night at the Council meeting that one thing he felt
bad about was how easy it still is to get into the church and the Upper Room
for the meeting. Ours were the only cars
in the lot. We weren’t having to say “hello”
and “excuse me” to people coming in for some community meeting in the Lower
Hall. We weren’t pushed into the
sanctuary and struggling to be heard over a youth group meeting in the Upper
Room.
He might be glad to
know that on Sunday, Nov 19 – Anniversary Sunday and the day after the
Spaghetti Supper, we’ll be having our annual treat of after-worship coffee and
left-over desserts in the Upper Room, because that day there’s also a party for
a family in the community booked into the Lower Hall.
Good news! In every sense of the word.
Not without cost, to
be sure. Not without giving up and
losing something we used to have. The
pin-prick and sometimes the real nail-pierce of the cross is felt within us as
we open our eyes, our arms, our hearts, our wallets and our building to the
needs of others.
But as long as we
know we are doing this in obedience to him and the way of life he shows us –
going beyond self-interest to take on the needs and interests of others, is
this not what this church –any church, is about? Is this not how we find the new life we are
promised? And is this not why we are
glad to be here?
How does Mother
Teresa put it in the little quote reprinted on the back of our bulletin?
That the sacrifices
we make, the losses we accept, the things we let go of that we used to have
just for ourselves “are nothing but a sign that you have come so
close to Jesus that He can kiss you.”
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