Heaven Opened
Mark 1:1-11[1]
There is a sense in
which we have all closed ourselves off in this modern world. Our lives have
become so complicated, so unpredictable, and so “different” from what we were
used to that we naturally want to protect ourselves. That’s especially true
when it comes to “strangers.” We tend to close ourselves off from those whom we
may perceive to be a threat. That is, I think, part of the cause for the
impasse in our country right now. We surround ourselves only with those who
confirm our own biases, and we don’t even listen to those who have a different
take on things. We all, to some extent, live in a world we have closed off to
what is “other.”
In some ways, we get
this from the Bible. There are passages and even whole books of the Bible that
convey the idea that “we” have to protect ourselves against “them,” whoever
“they” may be. Reading those parts of the Bible leads us to think that God’s
purpose is not at all the broad, inclusive gift of love we hear Jesus talking
about. Rather, it sounds much more constricted, reserved for a very few who
practice certain well-defined standards of living. It seems rigidly
uncompromising in that there is no tolerance for any kind of “falling short.”
With that kind of a view of heaven itself as basically “closed,” it’s easy to
transfer a “closed” mindset to life in general.
You may
be asking what this has to do with our Gospel lesson for today. I can’t say for
sure, but I wonder whether Jesus’ baptism may have been a formative experience
for him, providing at least some inspiration for his unique message that God’s
love is open to us all. Mark tells us that when he was baptized, Jesus saw “the
heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him” (Mk. 1:10).
Then a voice came to Jesus: “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well
pleased” (Mk. 1:11). I’ll be the first to admit that these aren’t ordinary
experiences for us, and it may be hard to understand what it all means.
In the
first place, I think we have to notice that, in contrast to the account of
Jesus’ baptism in the other Gospels, here everything that happens is directed
toward Jesus. He sees the heavens
torn open; he sees the Spirit descend
on him as a dove. He hears the voice
that addresses him: “you are my Son,” and “with you I am well pleased.”
If we remember that Jesus was “fully human,” I wonder whether this kind of
experience may have been crucial for someone who was about to launch a
reorientation of people’s whole relationship with God! We tend to assume that a
“fully divine” Jesus wouldn’t need that kind of assurance. But if he truly was
“fully human,” perhaps he did!
In Mark’s
Gospel, the opening of the heavens, the descent of the Holy Spirit upon Jesus,
and the divine voice all point to the message that Jesus is “the son of God”
(Mk. 1:1). Ironically, however, in Mark’s Gospel that message is only
recognized after Jesus dies on the cross—and by a Roman Centurion! I think the
main reason for this is Jesus fulfilled the role of “son of God” in a very
different way than most people expected. They expected Jesus to reinforce their
idea of heaven “closed” to all but those who, like them, were “righteous” in a
very particular way. But Jesus “opened” heaven by extending God’s grace to
those who seemed undeserving.
To a
significant degree, that also had to do with the message Jesus proclaimed. In
the next few verses, he says it this way: “The time is fulfilled, the kingdom
of God has come near; repent and believe in the good news” (Mk 1:15). That in
and of itself wasn’t unique. But the way Jesus filled out what that meant for
people was very different indeed. It meant that he had come to offer God’s
grace and mercy and love to the least and the last and the left out.
Again,
when you listen to Jesus, it seems that he is talking about God from the perspective
of heaven “opened” rather than closed. We may never know, but it’s interesting
to wonder whether Jesus’ vision of heaven “opened” at his baptism inspired his
ministry and his message.[2] It
would explain how he was able to fulfill his ministry of reorienting people’s
whole relationship with God, despite all the pressure he faced from those who
wanted to keep the doors to heaven shut tight. It also helps us understand how
he was able to continue to pursue that goal of “opening” heaven even when it
led him to the cross.
As we
think about what this means for us, I believe we who claim to follow the one
who opened heaven for all people must offer that same openness to the people in
our lives. I know that’s not easy. The appeal of a closed heaven in which only
those who are righteous “like me” are included is that it is predictable and
safe. We can get so overwhelmed at times that it’s only natural for us to
respond with fear and anger. And we “close” ourselves to those whom we see as
“other.” That’s not the way Jesus lived, though. He offered a heaven opened to
all—including his enemies who were working to have him killed. Again, I know
that’s not easy. If we are going to open ourselves like Jesus did, like God
did, we have to be willing to take the suffering and pain that people endure on
ourselves—just like Jesus did.[3] Though it can be a hard road, I believe Jesus called those who know the
blessings of heaven opened to share that same spirit of openness with others.
[1] ©
2021 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm, Ph. D. on 1/10/2021 for
Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.
[2]2 Cf. Jürgen Moltmann, The Way of Jesus
Christ: Christology in Messianic Dimensions, 89–91. Among other things, he
says that Jesus baptism shaped his message that “in the kingdom of Jesus’
Father, what rules is the justice of mercy for all the weary and heavy-laden.”
[3] Cf. The Study Catechism, question 45, answer the question, “Why did
Jesus have to suffer as he did?” In part the answer is, “In giving Jesus Christ
to die for us, God took the burden of our sin into God's own self to remove it
once and for all. The cross in all its severity reveals an abyss of sin
swallowed up by the suffering of divine love.”
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