Sunday's Sermon Audio

Sermon from 2-15.mp3

Sunday's Sermon

Mark 1:40-45

Who Are We?

James Sledge February 15, 2009

I recently set up an account on Facebook. For those of you unfamiliar with Facebook, it is an internet-based, social networking site. It’s free and you can post pictures and information about yourself that can be seen by others who are your Facebook “friends.” People with Facebook accounts can send “friend requests” to others on Facebook, who must then confirm or ignore the request. It’s a great way to stay in contact with a lot of people at once. I have found lots of “friends” from my high school, seminary, and from members of Boulevard.

Naturally my Facebook profile says that I am a pastor. And when I become “friends” with people I haven’t seen in decades, it is interesting the assumptions they make about me because I am a pastor. Some assume that I must be conservative politically. Some assume that I want to become part of some anti-gay group. Some assume that I subscribe to a few simplistic, religious formulae and have no use for anyone who disagrees with me. And I’ve taken to posting a few videos or notes on my Facebook profile that skewer some of these religious stereotypes, that hopefully make it clear that I’m not what some folks assume.

But the issue of religious stereotyping doesn’t come up only with Facebook friends. I have a “real” friend who is not religious and who finds me something of an enigma. That is because she tends to assume that Christians are narrow-minded, unthinking sorts. Her image of a Christian is the polar opposite of an intellectual. And while I’m no intellectual, I have tendencies in that direction. Thus I don’t fit easily into the categories my friend has for cataloguing people.

This issue of Christian identity is not simply a matter of the stereotypes that others have about us. Our self understanding of what it means to be Christian is a crucial question. To be a Christian, a follower of Jesus, is to live into some sort of identity, some expectation of what Christians do or don’t do. And of course it is very difficult to talk about Christian identity without first wrestling with who we understand Jesus to be. Who we think Jesus was and is will surely impact what we think it means to follow him.

Not surprisingly, there are a lot of different pictures of Jesus in circulation. Most of us tend to shape our image of Jesus so that he fits with our view of the world, so that he tends to like the things we like and dislike the things we dislike. Most folks tend to be fairly selective in deciding which scripture passages are the key to Jesus’ identity.

We Presbyterians are no less susceptible to these tendencies than others, but nonetheless, I think that one of the true gifts that Presbyterians offer to the Christian family is our desire truly to wrestle with scripture, to enter into it and appreciate all of its nuance and beauty, to seek to understand it on a fuller and deeper level. It is true that we are sometimes guilty of being too much “head Christians,” ignoring things such as mystery and spiritual experience. We do need to get better at attending to God with all of our being, but I hope we never stop loving God with all our mind. I hope we always utilize all that study and scholarship can teach us about the wonder and depth and subtlety and ambiguity and majesty of scripture.

If ever there was a scripture passage that warrants the full engagement of our minds, today’s reading from Mark is surely one of them. In these few verses we encounter a rich vein with endless treasures to be mined. There is so much going on here that we will miss if we treat these verses as little more than literal account of what happened as Jesus journeyed through Galilee.

On the surface, it is a simple enough story. Jesus heals a leper and tells him not to tell anyone, but to show himself to the priest and make the prescribed offering. But the man instead runs around telling everyone; end of story. Seems plain enough.

Yet Jesus encounters this leper only because he has gone out into the countryside where lepers are to be found. Jesus has taught and healed at the synagogue, has healed those who came to Simon’s house in Capernaum, but has then very intentionally, and over the apparent objections of disciples, left Capernaum to journey through the Galilean countryside.

There a leper approaches Jesus and raises the question of Jesus’ disposition toward the him. There is no question about what Jesus is able to do. The question is about what he chooses to do. Lepers were considered unclean. They couldn’t come to the synagogue or to the house. So how would Jesus react when this unclean leper came up to him out in the countryside?

Here’s where the story gets really interesting. Jesus not only chooses to heal the man, but he reaches out and touches him. He touches a leper, and so Jesus himself is made unclean. He takes on this man’s uncleanness when he touches him and heals him. And I read one commentator who suggested that the reason that Jesus could no longer go into town openly was not because of his popularity, but because he was now unclean.

Clearly Jesus is willing to break the taboos of his day, to reach out to those whom others shunned. Jesus has intentionally gone out into the country where lepers may be found and intentionally touched this leper, has become unclean like a leper himself. Clearly this Jesus is filled with compassion and love for people ostracized and cast out by polite society. And that likely accounts for the way this passage is translated when it says that Jesus was moved with pity when he met the leper. But there are ancient copies of Mark’s gospel where Jesus is not filled with pity but with anger, and many scholars believe this is likely what Mark originally wrote.

But why would Jesus be angry? Obviously not with the leper. Rather it seems that Jesus anger is aimed at the priest. In fact the command to the leper that he show himself to the priest is a more likely a testimony against them rather than the testimony to them we heard in our reading this morning. This testimony against them is not against Jews or Judaism but against religious authorities who ignore the weak and the broken and the outcasts, who relegate them to the fringes of society. It is a testimony against religious institutions that seek to make faith the purview of good, proper folk, testimony against all expressions of faith that fail to break down barriers, to reach out to hurting people that the world fears and shuns.

Jesus is angry at this all too common distortion of religion, but the freshly healed leper is too overjoyed for anger. He simply ignores Jesus’ command and begins to proclaim what Jesus has done for him to anyone who will listen. In the language of the New Testament, he becomes a preacher, sharing the good news. Mark’s gospel does not criticize the man. In fact, this is a pattern that repeats over and over in Mark. To be touched by Jesus’ power seems to carry with it a compulsion to preach and to minister to others. Almost no one Jesus heals ever remains silent, at least not until the very end of Mark’s gospel. On Easter morning, the first witnesses to the resurrection are commanded by Jesus to go and tell the others, but they say nothing because they are afraid.

And that brings us back full circle to post Easter people like us who say we know the risen Christ. Who are we because of this encounter? How does claiming we are Christian define us, and what corrections do we need to put on our Facebook profiles so that people don’t misunderstand what we mean?

Who are we as Christians? Consider who Christ is. He left the comfort and security of home and synagogue to go out into the world and share God’s love, God’s healing and transforming power. Consider a leper who was touched by God’s love, God’s healing and transforming power, and could not stop himself, even when Jesus told him to, from proclaiming the good news of what God had done for him.

Consider who Jesus was and is. Consider what it means to encounter God’s love through him. Perhaps then we can answer the question: Who are we?

Musings on the Daily Lectionary

"Whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child..." Today's reading from Mark 10:1-16 contains these words, and much has been written over the years about just what it means to be "as a little child." A lot of popular understandings--innocent, sweet, etc.-- are dismissed by most scholars.

I read these verses today after working on an Ash Wednesday meditation. This meditation recalls the Ash Wednesday liturgy, "Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return." And it speaks of recognizing that God is God and we are creatures, of acknowledging and claiming of our limitations as creatures.

Children tend to realize that they are not in charge of things. We've all known some who thought they were. But most children are painfully aware of how much their lives are determined by other folks, from when to go to bed, when to get up, when to go to school, what to eat, and so on. But as we grow up, we take responsibility for many of these things, and for me, that often includes taking charge of the things that would be handled much better by God.

"Whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child..."

Musings on the Daily Lectionary

Psalm 42 includes the line "I say to God, my rock, "Why have you forgotten me?" It also contains a response from the psalmist. "Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God."

It is hard to say how common faith struggles are among pastors, as we tend not to advertise our personal faith crises. But I suspect they are more prevalent that many would expect. However, we sometimes turn such moments into personal performance crises rather than faith ones. There must be some new program or skill that would fix things if mastered. Focused on performance, it is sometimes difficult to fit God into the conversation, either to cry out for help or to hope.

For me, I regularly need to step back from performance questions and engage in faith questions. Where do I truly put my hope? Can I trust in God, or is everything a matter of my skills and abilities, or the skills and abilities of other staff and volunteers?

First Timothy 1:8 speaks of "relying on the power of God." Rely on God's power? Rather than skills and abilities? Rather than the latest advice found in the latest book? Really?

Musings on the Daily Lectionary

Mark 9:30-41 is an interesting mix of seemingly unrelated events. But as I reflected on these verses, I was struck by Jesus' words on welcoming a child and on tolerating someone who invoked Jesus' name to heal. Both seem to show an open and welcoming pose toward others. Especially telling is the line, "Whoever is not against us is for us."

I tend to be someone who wants to do thing right, whether it be in following the rules and policies, or in getting the theology correct. But I wonder if my own preference of precision and correctness doesn't get in the way of seeing what God might be up to in someone who doesn't conform to my standards.

My prayer for the day is that God open my eyes to see beyond my own definitions of right, correct, etc. Let me see the unexpected and surprising ways that Christ's power is at work in the world.

Thoughts on next Sunday's sermon

Mark 1:40-45 seems to be a fairly straight forward story of Jesus healing a leper. But there is much more here than meets the eye. Much about who Jesus is is revealed in these few verses, showing in his presence in the countryside or wilderness, and his willingness to touch a leper and thus become unclean himself. In addition, there are ancient copies of Mark's gospel where Jesus is described as "angry" rather than "moved with pity" following the leper's request for healing. Exploring why Jesus might be angry may further reveal just who this Jesus is. And as questions about Jesus' identity are answered, deeper insights into our identities as his followers emerge.

Sunday's Sermon

Mark 1:29-39

Raised Up and Freed for Service

James Sledge February 8, 2009

Perhaps because of when I attended seminary, perhaps because of my own personal tendencies, or perhaps because of both, I tend to be very sensitive about gender issues in the Bible and the church. I go to great lengths to avoid using exclusively masculine terms for God since God is clearly neither male nor female. And I will take any opportunity that arises to point out the ways in which the Bible lifts up the role of women, from Deborah as prophet and judge in ancient Israel to women portrayed as disciples in Luke’s gospel to Priscilla depicted as the leader of a house church in Acts and in Paul’s letters. I point out that many Christian stereotypes about women arise more from the Bible’s use by the males who ran the church over the centuries rather than from what the Bible actually says.

Still, it does seem that the Bible was written entirely by men. And while these men were certainly inspired by the Holy Spirit, that doesn’t mean that their own prejudices and biases don’t show up in the words they wrote.

And so my first reaction when I read today’s gospel lesson was to cringe just a bit. We are in the opening chapter of Mark, where Jesus has been baptized by John, and has then begun his ministry of teaching and healing, and he has begun to call disciples, all male of course. And now Jesus returns from teaching and healing at the synagogue and arrives at Andrew and Simon’s house.

Inside this house, we meet Simon’s mother-in-law, although meet is probably too strong of a word. We learn nothing about her other than the fact that she is in bed with a fever. Now considering that Simon has just shown up with a bunch of male guests, this presents obvious problems in the male dominated society of that day. But fortunately Jesus heals her so that she can get up and wait on the guys. And that’s the last we hear of Simon’s mother-in-law. You can see why I cringed, can’t you?

Except that first impressions are not always correct. And when I gritted my teeth and began to listen to this passage, I discovered that Simon’s mother-in-law was not at all the stereotype I had supposed.

I think I missed this at first because I looked only at those few verses you heard me read a few moments ago. We often read the Bible this way, little snippets at a time. A lot of devotional materials are laid out this way. And when I’m thinking about a sermon, I tend to focus on the verses for that day. But in the process the reading sometimes gets separated from the larger story. That is certainly true today. Jesus going to Simon and Andrew’s house is part of a larger story that began earlier that Sabbath day when Jesus went to the synagogue where he taught and healed. And it is still the Sabbath day when Jesus arrives at the house and heals Simon’s mother-in-law.

Now just in case you’re not up on your Jewish Sabbath regulations, you weren’t supposed to work on the Sabbath. Jesus seems to be breaking those rules when he heals, both at the synagogue on now in our reading today. And Simon’s mother-in-law also seems to be breaking those rules when she hops up and begins to serve them.

This word “serve” is a pretty important one in the New Testament. It is the root of our word “deacon,” and it also means “to minister to.” More importantly, it is what Jesus says he comes to do, something his male disciples have a hard time understanding. Toward the end of Mark’s gospel, when these disciples are jockeying for position, wanting important places in God’s coming kingdom, Jesus says, “Whoever wishes to become great among you must become your servant… For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve.” Simon’s mother-in-law seems to realize what those male disciples are still struggling to understand at the end of Jesus’ earthly ministry; encountering the healing, transforming power and touch of Jesus naturally issues forth in service, in ministering to others. She does not wait for the Sabbath day to end. She begins to minister to Jesus right then and there.

Despite her oh so brief appearance in Mark’s gospel, Simon’s mother-in-law seems to embody a true understanding of the Christian life. She seems to understand it better than the crowds or Simon or the other disciples do. The setting of her healing—in the house—seems to illumine this further. In the first century, when Mark wrote his gospel, church and house were nearly synonymous. All churches were house churches. And so, in the story centered on a house, it is interesting to contrast the behavior of Simon’s mother-in-law with that of the crowds and with Simon himself.

The crowds rightly are fascinated with Jesus and recognize his power to heal. When the Sabbath has ended, they come in huge numbers to the door of the house, hoping to he will help them, but we hear nothing about how they respond to this encounter.

On the other hand, we do hear how Simon reacts when he discovers that Jesus has slipped away from the house in the darkness of early morning to pray. Our reading says that Simon hunted for him, but those words do not convey the full emotion of Mark’s original words. The word translated “hunted” is a word that implies hostility such as an army hunting for the enemy. Simon clearly is agitated at Jesus’ absence, as though he expects Jesus to be on call at the house. Simon seems to anticipate a church that possesses the power of Jesus, that is able to set up shop and wait for folks to come.

But Jesus has other ideas. The house, the church, is only a base of operations. Jesus’ ministry of preaching and healing must go out, must reach out to serve those in need. As Simon’s mother-in-law has already sensed, the good news of Jesus contains within it an impetus, a compulsion to share and serve, to reach out, to minister to others.

In the house, Jesus reaches out and takes the hand of a sick woman. He lifts her up, healing her, freeing her from that which confines her. And with no prodding from Jesus, and in violation of Sabbath regulations, she responds in loving service.

In the church, through the power of the Holy Spirit, Jesus is present to us in Word and Sacrament. In the waters of baptism we are washed and made as pure as the new fallen snow. At the table, Jesus once more reaches out to feed, to nourish, to grant us the grace that opens us to true life. And in the words of scripture, Jesus’ life giving Word is proclaimed once more. By this Word, Jesus reaches out and touches us with healing power, freeing us from all that confines us.

In Word and Sacrament, Jesus reaches out to each of us, takes us by the hand and lifts us up, saying, “You are mine. Be made whole.” Jesus raises us up by the hand and we are filled with his healing power, his power to make new and transform, his power to grant full communion and fellowship with God. Just as he did with Simon’s mother-in-law, Jesus takes us by the hand, raising us up to full and abundant, new life.

By water and the Spirit, by Jesus’ touch, we are healed, made whole, transformed. By water and the Spirit, we are joined to Christ and he dwells in us. By water and the Spirit, we become the body of Christ, his living presence in the world. And all around us, people are longing for us to share his touch.