A Cross-Shaped Life

A Cross-Shaped Life

Mark 8:31-38[1]

Most of us have some idea of the “shape” we want our lives to take. We all have hopes and dreams, desires and goals. Typically, we direct our hopes for our lives toward things that are good: our homes, our families, and our careers. We dream of building relationships that will last a lifetime. We long for work that is not only productive but also provides us with a livelihood. We plan for financial security so that we may retire comfortably and have the opportunity to pursue new interests. Because they are near and dear to our hearts, these are the things we cherish. Our hopes and dreams, our desires and goals shape our lives.

Seeking what we cherish most in life is only natural for us. And it is a good thing to pursue these good things. But as Christians, we have to recognize that we also have a higher claim on our lives. We are called to seek God with all our hearts, and to follow Christ in the way in which he consistently obeyed God. We are called to lay down our lives in service to others in the same way that Jesus laid down his life for us. That’s not the path most of us envision in our hopes and dreams, our desires and goals. Perhaps one of the greatest challenges we face as Christians is to figure out how to live our lives under the call of Christ to “deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow me.”

Our Gospel lesson for today marks a turning point in Jesus’ ministry. Up to that time, he had mostly occupied himself with proclaiming the good news—that he was truly bringing God’s kingdom of justice, peace, and freedom into people’s lives. That kind of language fired the hopes and dreams of Jesus’ first disciples, but their dreams were very different from what God had called Jesus to do. After Peter made a bold declaration of faith that Jesus was indeed the “Messiah” they had been waiting for, Jesus “burst” the bubble of their enthusiasm. He told them point-blank that “the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected …, and be killed” (Mk. 8:31). Peter’s shocked response only put into words that the others were thinking: this wasn’t what they had signed up for at all!

Jesus pressed the matter home by insisting that those who wanted to follow him must “deny themselves and take up their cross” (Mk. 8:34). I think at this point Jesus’ closest disciples must have been in a daze. They followed him, thinking that he was going to ascend the throne of David, throw off the yoke of the Romans, and restore the people of Israel to their former glory. And I’m quite sure they saw themselves playing an important role in that restored kingdom. Not only did he tell them that was not what he was called to do, he also told them that wasn’t what they were called to do!

Jesus knew that his path of obedience to God would lead him to die on a cross. What he revealed to his disciples at this point was that their obedience to God would lead them to follow him on that path! Some of the early Christians literally faced the same fate as he did.[2] The persecution they endured for their faith in many cases forced them to choose between their faith and their lives. And when the time came, many of them chose to go to their deaths for the sake of their faith in Jesus.

We don’t have to make that kind of sacrifice for the sake of our faith. But the call to “deny ourselves and take up our cross” still pushes us to think about our commitment to Christ in ways that may be uncomfortable. This language cuts so deeply against the grain of how we live I’m not sure we can even comprehend it! The kind of self-denial that Jesus calls us to practice means that we take all the things we cherish most in life, all our hopes and dreams, all our desires and goals, and we lay them all down at the feet of Jesus.[3]

What that means in actual practice is difficult to work out. For some, like Dietrich Bonhoeffer, it means that we make a break with all the ties and attachments we have in this life.[4] That’s what the call to follow Christ looks like for some. But those of us to are allowed to pursue our hopes and dreams in this life still have to figure out what it means to “deny ourselves.” I think part of the answer lies in recognizing that all those things we cherish most in life can lead us to become trapped in the prison of our own selfish interests.[5] But part of the answer also lies in being willing to give up what we cherish most to God, to recognize that “whether we live or die, we belong to the Lord” (Rom 14:5, NLT).

The plain but perhaps startling truth is that we are all called to make following Jesus the focus of our lives. This means “denying ourselves and taking up our cross.” It means devoting our time and energy not simply to fulfilling our own hopes and dreams, our own desires and goals.[6] It means following Jesus’ example by laying down our lives for the sake of serving others, especially those who are “least, and last, and left out” in this world. It means that the shape of our lives is determined by our commitment to follow Jesus on the path that leads to the cross.

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[1] © 2021 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm, Ph. D. on 2/28/2021 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.sh

[2] Cf. Harold W. Attridge and Adela Y. Collins, Mark, 408.

[3] John Calvin, in The Institutes of the Christian Religion, 3.7, defines self-denial in terms of recognizing that we are not our own, we belong to God. David Garland, Mark, 327 says it means learning to say “not my will but thine be done.”

[4] Cf. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Discipleship (DBW, vol. 4, 2001), 86-87. He does discuss the possibility (p. 93-97) that this break may be “visible” (actual) or “hidden,” meaning the disciple continues to live in the normal relationships of life.

[5] Cf. John Caputo, On Religion, 2-3, where he defines self-interest in terms of being “caught up in the meanness of self-love and self-gratification,” and people who “love nothing more than getting their own way and bending others to their will.”

[6] Cf. Luke Timothy Johnson, Learning Jesus, 200, where he insists that nowhere in the New Testament is there “an understanding of Christian discipleship compatible with a life devoted to one’s own success, pleasure, comfort, freedom from suffering, or power at the expense of others.”

In the Wilderness

In the Wilderness

Mark 1:9-15[1]

For all of the popular media around “the wilderness,” I would say it has varying degrees of appeal. For some of us, “roughing it” means spending a vacation in something less than a four-star resort. I for one enjoy spending time in the outdoors. I’ve spent many nights under the stars, and I thoroughly enjoyed most of them (not so much when it was pouring down rain!). And I have been on at least one trek in the middle of a National Forest, with a backpack full of gear and food and a group of several others with me. I’ve never been placed in the “middle of nowhere” and left on my own to fend for myself. I don’t think I’d want to do that. That version of being “in the wilderness” holds no appeal for me whatsoever!

In Jesus’ day, the “wilderness” was not something that was idealized for its pristine beauty or seen as a challenge to go out and overcome. The “wilderness” was as a place to avoid. It was the haunt of bandits and demons, and it is where Jesus encountered “the Satan” and “wild beasts.” Despite all this, in Mark’s Gospel the “wilderness” was the place where the “forerunner” made his appearance to “prepare the way of the Lord” (Mk 1:3-4). And the “wilderness” was also the place where Jesus was baptized (Mk 1:9). Though Jesus spent forty days in the “wilderness,” he was accompanied by the Spirit of God and by angels who “were serving him!”

Mark’s Gospel tells us a different story of Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness than the one we’re most familiar with. If we take the Gospel of Mark seriously as a Gospel, we have to admit that our lesson for today presents us with a riddle. Jesus was in a place most people considered the very heart of danger, and yet he was neither in danger nor was he alone. Despite what the other Gospels tell us about Jesus’ temptation, it’s possible that when the angels were “serving” him, they were feeding him as they did for Elijah on his forty-day journey into the wilderness (1 Kg. 19:4-8). That would suggest perhaps Jesus didn’t fast in Mark’s version of the temptation! In fact, many scholars believe that even the “wild beasts” posed no threat to him, because his presence created peace with them that the Bible only envisions in the kingdom of God (cf. Isa. 11:6-9)!

So, we’re left to wonder how Mark’s account of Jesus’ forty days in the wilderness constituted a “temptation.” It would seem that he was not in danger. It’s possible that he didn’t have to go hungry. Where was the temptation? For one thing, in Mark’s Gospel, wherever Jesus went his very presence provoked a confrontation with the powers of evil. We see this confrontation here with the Satan,” or the accuser. The idea is that it went on continuously throughout the forty days. That in and of itself must have been exhausting for Jesus. Elsewhere in Mark’s Gospel when we see Jesus confronting the powers of evil, we also see him withdrawing by himself for a time of respite and prayer. He had no chance for any such respite here.

Besides the ongoing stress of confronting the powers of evil, I wonder if there wasn’t something more directed toward Jesus personally. I think we might see a hint when we read the rest of Mark’s Gospel. Jesus faced a constant temptation about whether or not he would fulfill God’s purpose for his life. He was continually pressed by the crowds to heal their sick, but that wasn’t his purpose. He was challenged by the religious leaders on every turn, but his purpose wasn’t to straighten them out. I would say that Jesus was tested even by his own disciples who believed he was destined to ascend the throne of Israel. That also wasn’t his purpose.

Jesus made it clear that his mission was to proclaim the good news that he was truly bringing to them the kingdom of God, a kingdom which offered God’s unconditional love, undeserved grace, and unfailing mercy to all. And it’s clear Jesus realized that fulfilling this mission was going to lead him down a path that would end with his death on a cross. In this respect, I would say that Jesus’ temptation lasted more than forty days. Throughout his ministry he faced the temptation to take a path other than the one that God had laid out for him, the path that would lead him to a cross. He was constantly tempted to give in to the cries for him to be a healer, a provider, or a hero, but not a Savior who would die for them and for us all. And at every turn, Jesus demonstrated his unswerving devotion to fulfill the mission for which God had sent him.

In that sense, I think we could say that Jesus spent his whole ministry in a “wilderness” being tested. I find comfort in that. It reminds me that he really was “tested in every respect as we are” (Heb. 4:15). I also find it assuring that Jesus didn’t face this test alone. He was supported by the grace of God and by the presence of the Holy Spirit. I think that’s true for us as well. At times our lives can feel like we’re constantly being tested in the “wilderness.” We all face experiences that push us to our very limits. It can be so intense we may wonder whether God has abandoned us. But I would say that God is always there with us, supporting us with his grace, encouraging us by the presence of his Spirit. Even when we may at times fail our tests, even when we may stumble and fall, we have a compassionate Savior and Lord who “sympathizes with our weaknesses” (Heb. 4:15). More than that, because he overcame every test, he opened the door for us all to receive God’s grace and strength (Heb. 4:16) to face whatever we may confront in the “wilderness” life can be for us.

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[1] © 2021 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm, Ph. D. on 2/21/2021 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Missing the Point

 Missing the Point

Mark 9:2-9[1]

To accuse someone of “missing the point” is one of those “touchy” topics in our society. It’s perfectly acceptable for us to admit to missing the point. But if someone else tells us we’ve missed the point, it’s offensive. So most of us refrain from that rather “in your face” accusation. At least to their face! But then, many of us have become so accustomed to “arguing” with the TV or the radio that we say all kinds of things to ourselves that we would never say in person. Unfortunately, that habit has spilled over into our use of social media, where we seem to have no inhibitions about hurling all kinds of things at people we don’t even know!

The Bible is filled with stories about people who “missed the point.” One of the most obvious ones is the story of the “golden calf.” Despite literally meeting God at Mount Sinai and solemnly vowing to keep God’s instructions, no sooner did Moses go up the mountain than the people of Israel broke their promise. God had made it clear to them that they were not to worship other “gods,” and not even to make images of other “gods.” But when Moses went up the mountain, Aaron and the rest of the people made a statue of a “golden calf” that they worshiped as their “god.” They surely missed the point!

The other dramatic example of “missing the point” in the Bible is found in the Gospels. Time and again, Jesus’ own disciples failed to grasp even the basics of what he was trying to teach them. Here are just some of the “highlights.” When parents were bringing their children for Jesus to bless them, the disciples “sternly” tried to prevent them. Jesus said, “let the children come to me.” When a gentile woman who was begging for healing for her daughter got on their nerves, the disciples asked Jesus to send her away. Instead, he commended her faith and healed her daughter. Jesus not only taught but also modeled the role of a servant for his disciples. But they were vying with each other for the “best seats” in the coming kingdom of God. My personal “favorite” is when James and John wanted to call down fire to consume an entire village! The apostles missed the point on many occasions!

Our lesson from the Gospel of Mark today presents us with another of many episodes when Jesus’ disciples missed the point. It’s the story of Jesus’ transfiguration, something we probably don’t pay too much attention to because we find it hard to understand. I would say we shouldn’t feel too badly about that, because so did Peter, James, and John! The transfiguration was meant to convey several important “points.” First, the “voice” from heaven identifies Jesus as the Son of God. In Mark’s Gospel, however, Jesus’ disciples would not be able to recognize that until after Jesus had died and was resurrected.

The second point relates to the appearance of Moses and Elijah, and the command to “hear him.” Both of those features of this story reinforced Jesus’ teachings as just as important as those of Moses and Elijah, if not more so. Jesus’ disciples were to not only hear them but also put them into practice. But they failed to grasp even the most basic of Jesus’ teachings. The third point was that this was yet another demonstration that the kingdom of God was truly present in and through Jesus’ ministry. They missed that point as well, because they were still looking for the restoration of the kingdom of David.

As usual in the Gospels, Peter is the one who represents the disciples’ obvious failure to grasp what was happening. Overwhelmed by the whole experience, he asks if they should build three “tabernacles”—one for Jesus, Moses and Elijah. Of course, he completely missed the point of the whole event. He wanted to stay on the mountain with the transfigured Jesus, as well as Moses and Elijah. But the real mission, the real purpose of Jesus’ life, was down the mountain, in the push and pull of the real world. Peter and the others missed the point.

When I think about Peter and the other disciples and how badly they misunderstood Jesus, I begin to wonder about the ways we may be missing the point today. One thought that I would like to borrow from our friend Rev. Dr. Christy Dempsey is that we seem to view our faith as an activity rather than an identity that shapes who we are fundamentally and impacts all of life. If so, we’ve missed the point on that one. I think we also get attached to our traditions and customs and forget that the means by which we carry out Jesus’ ministry in our world are always changing. It’s the mission that’s the point. Furthermore, we think the kingdom of God is something “out there somewhere,” not something that makes a difference in our lives here and now. But I would say that wherever any who feel weighed down by their burdens find relief, wherever any who feel left out find welcome and embrace, wherever any who suffer find comfort and support, God’s kingdom is there making a difference.

One of the comforting aspects of the way in which Jesus interacted with his often “befuddled” disciples is that he called them “you of little faith.” It was his compassionate way of gently reminding them what he was about. He continued to work with them to bring them along in their ability to understand what he was calling them to do. I find that comforting because we all have a tendency to miss the point. We seek the comfort and safety of what is familiar to us. But in every situation, God is working in our midst, making a difference in people’s lives. I think the point of our discipleship is that we align our lives with what God is doing in our world through Jesus Christ.

 

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[1] © 2021 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm, Ph.D. on 2/14/2021 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

Among Us And Through Us

 Among Us and Through Us

Mark 1:29-39[1]

I’ve been here long enough for you to recognize that I have certain phrases that I use every week in worship. What you may or may not realize is that I do that on purpose. Each of them makes a theological point that I believe is important for us to be reminded about regularly. One of those phrases occurs in my prayer after the sermon: “Eternal father, creator of all the heavens and the earth, continue to bring your kingdom among us and through us.” There’s quite a bit packed into that short prayer, and it would take more than one sermon to discuss all of it. What I’d like to focus on today is the prayer for God to continue working “among us and through us.”

Everything we do as a community of faith rests on what God is doing among us and through us. Jesus defined what God is doing with the phrase “the kingdom of God.” After all we’ve heard and learned about this, it may still elude us. The kingdom of God refers to everything God is doing in this world to right all the wrongs, to free all who are oppressed, and to fill the lives of those who are afraid or who have lost hope with the joy of a whole new way of living. We may think of it as “salvation,” but it’s not just something that affects us spiritually. It’s about transforming everything and everyone so that God’s will may be done “on earth as it is in heaven.”

As I mentioned last week, Jesus not only preached the message that “the kingdom of God has come near,” he also enacted it. We saw that Jesus had the authority and power to bring the presence of God’s kingdom into people’s lives. This week we see an extension of that ministry in that Jesus heals not just Peter’s mother-in-law, but also “all who were sick.” Our lesson for today tells us that “the whole city” of Capernaum was gathered at the door after the sun went down, marking the official end of the Sabbath day. And while we’re told that Jesus healed “many,” we ought not make too much out of the contrast between “all” and “many.” Very likely, “many” was just another way of saying he healed them all.

Mark’s Gospel is notably brief in recounting Jesus life and ministry. And this episode is no exception. We’re left to wonder what happened. Did he simply “speak the word” and perhaps “wave his hand” over the whole crowd, and they were instantly cured? We might be tempted to think so. But that wasn’t the way Jesus typically operated. Luke’s account of this event says it this way: “he laid his hands on each of them and cured them” (Lk. 4:40). The idea is that Jesus healed each and every person who was brought to him, perhaps ministering to them until the wee hours of the morning!

Now, some of us might have just as many questions about the reports in the Gospels regarding Jesus’ healing miracles as we do about the idea that he expelled the powers of evil. We may wonder why Jesus healed people like Peter’s mother-in-law, but didn’t heal a loved one for whom we may have prayed. I don’t know why our cherished friends and family have to suffer, sometimes for a long time, and may never find healing. Despite the fact that we’re all familiar with various traditional “reasons,” I’ve often said I don’t think there is any way to truly answer the question “Why?” It’s one of those mysteries that rests in the hands of the God who reigns over all our lives with grace, mercy, and love.

What I do know is that the miracles of healing that Jesus performed in his ministry had a purpose. Just like his power to set people free from the evil that afflicted them, so also his ability to heal those who were ill brought the presence of God’s kingdom into their lives. While we may not see “spectacular” miracles today, I would insist that Jesus is still at work among us, bringing the kingdom of God into our lives. And when the kingdom of God comes into our lives, we are transformed by God’s grace, mercy, and love so that we can live new lives of faith, hope and love. God’s work in our lives enables us to become people through whom God works in the lives of others. The presence of his kingdom “among us” leads to the impact of God’s kingdom “through us.”

Our Gospel lesson has a surprising ending. After a night of using his power and authority to release the people of Capernaum from all the ills and the evils oppressing them, Jesus spent several hours alone in prayer. Peter and the others finally “chased him down” to bring him back to the crowd that was doubtless waiting for him back in town. But Jesus knew he had more important work to do: to “go on to the neighboring towns” to preach the good news of the kingdom there. He knew that he had a task to fulfill, and that was to bring the presence of God’s kingdom to all who would receive it.

We here today are among those into whose lives Jesus has brought the presence of God’s kingdom. We have experienced the transforming power of God’s grace, mercy, and love. And we are on the path of discovering what it means to live new lives of faith, hope, and love. But I would say most of us tend to take for granted the presence of God’s kingdom in our lives and the impact that has on our world. While the transformation we witness in the lives of those around us may not seem “miraculous” in comparison with Jesus’ ministry, I would say it is real nonetheless. When take a closer look, I think we will see that God not only continues to work “among us,” he’s also working constantly “through us” to bring his grace, mercy, and love into the lives of those we encounter.

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[1] © 2021 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm, Ph. D. on 2/7/2021 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.