“Cut it off? No, Cut it Out!”

Pentecost 17

September 30, 2012

Mark 9:38-50

 

Can you imagine the side conversations going on between the disciples after Jesus’ teaching here?

What does he mean cut your hand off if it causes you to stumble? Doesn’t he know how much that is going to hurt?  Is he serious?  And what exactly does stumble mean?  What are the rules we have to follow if we are going to do just what Jesus said we should do?   But again, is he really serious?  Cause I gave that other exorcist a dirty look earlier for not following the rules…does that mean I should go take my eye out?  I don’t know if I could do that.

And it all started because John and the disciples were threatened that there was someone outside of the twelve who was able to cast out demons in Jesus’ name…and they had had some trouble with it.  He wasn’t one of them…he hadn’t been in the inner circle…how was he able to cast out demons in Jesus’ name…that’s not fair…Jesus, make him stop…he’s not following us!

Wait us? I thought you were all following Jesus…shouldn’t John have said he’s not following you? Actually, he couldn’t have really said that because it wouldn’t have been true. The man was following Jesus and had apparently picked up some tricks in regards to casting out demons in Jesus’ name. 

So Jesus responds to John “don’t stop him from doing deeds of power in my name.  He’s making a difference, and if you stop him, the deeds of power being done by him in my name are going to end.  And there’s really no reason for you to be worried, someone who does a deed of power in my name isn’t going to be speaking ill of me anytime soon.” 

That’s when Jesus launches into the better than’s…it would be better for you if a millstone were tied around your neck and be thrown into the sea than to make a little one who believes in me stumble…it would be better for you to enter life maimed or lame than to have a hand or foot that causes you to sin…it you would be better for you to have one eye, than two eyes that cause you do things you shouldn’t.   

And we repeat…boy, I really hope he’s not serious.

And Jesus isn’t serious.  He doesn’t want us to cut off our hands and feet or tear our eye out if they cause us to sin.  There would sure by a lot of bloodshed if that happened.  Instead, Jesus takes the opportunity to employ a bit of exaggeration to get the attention of the disciples…and our attention as well.  Be careful of the things we say, the things we do, and the way we look at people sometimes.  It’s easy to be hurtful when we are not careful.  And it happens to all of us, when we get cut off in traffic, when someone participates in an activity that we don’t approve of, we a project we are working on gets messed up, or when someone steals the spotlight from us…when we get annoyed, or frustrated, or become focused solely on ourselves, it gets easy to say and act in ways that we wish we could take back later. 

It’s in these cases that it’s good to know that Jesus isn’t always dead serious when he teaches…that sometimes he bit of a flare for the dramatic when trying to get a point across.  It’s also a good thing that there really is no such thing as a true biblical literalist.  Otherwise, there would be a lot of people out there walking around missing an eye, a hand, a foot…maybe even a tongue.  If we did take everything in the bible literally, then maybe the group of disciples would look like what Pastor Michael Coffey, from Austin, Texas, described in this poem. 

"One of them came in wet with a millstone and a rope

knotted around his throat gasping for air having dragged

the darn thing up from the bottom of the river

where he once was baptized a while back

because he had cursed at a child for high pitched screaming

Another came in with her right hand

hacked off – she was left-handed –

and she dripped crimson drops all the way

down the hall to Jesus' living room

admitting she had used the missing appendage

to flip someone off in traffic for cutting in

One more limped in with a lopped off foot

in his hand and he dropped to the floor sobbing

because he had tripped someone in line

in front of him to get a better seat

at the Bruce Springstein concert

Then there was the disciple who had an eye patch

and fumbled her way through the door

having glared at her next door neighbor with

a rude stare because she looked way too  good

in that new dress and those shoes with red soles

and wished she would trip and tear her ACL

The poem doesn’t end here.  But what comes next really hits what Jesus was trying to get across to the disciples.  And to us. 

They gathered around Jesus, each face

with a seriousness that puzzled the good Lord

except for the one with the plucked out eye –

it was hard to look puzzled with the patch and all.

He looked at them and said,

holding back an uncharacteristic chuckle:

For God’s sake, stop damaging yourselves.

You know I was kidding, right? 

Have you heard of hyperbole, people?

Just don’t do those mean things anymore

and if you do, say you’re sorry, make amends, and move on.

Lift up the lowly and respect the helpless.  

 It’s just not that hard.

Come on, folks!  Get over yourselves!

You're not that bad, and you're not that good."

There’s no actual call for us to damage ourselves when we do wrong by our neighbors…but rather, a call to do our best to be at peace with each other, to keep our actions and our words in check, because we never really know what the reactions will be to them.   None of us are perfect, we’re all going to offend someone at some point, whether we mean to or not…it’s a fact of life.   

And knowing that none of us are perfect and that sometimes it is hard for us to be at peace with each other, Jesus went to the cross and initiated the peace making process.  For in that act, Jesus made peace between us and God, which opened up for us a pathway through which we can to be at peace with one another.  To make amends when we mess up, to love one another and to be that salt that adds flavor to one another’s lives.  That sounds like a much better deal that cutting our limbs off.    

Questions?

Pentecost 17

September 23, 2012

Mark 9:30-37

Have you ever wondered if the disciples are actually paying attention to what is going on as they have been following Jesus?  In the time between last week’s Gospel reading, in which Peter confesses Jesus to be the Messiah and then promptly sticks his foot in his mouth, and this morning’s text, a lot has happened.  Jesus has gone up the mountain with Peter, James, and John and been Transfigured, then upon returning from the mountain, he heals a boy with an unclean spirit that the disciples had been unable to heal because, apparently, they didn’t pray.  And now, Jesus is again foretelling his death and resurrection, and pointing to a child as a model of discipleship.  That’s a lot to process in a couple of days…surely there had to be some questions from the disciples in regards to what was going on…but, then, why is it that all but one of the questions that Mark mentions in this portion of chapter 9 comes from Jesus? 

The only question that comes from the disciples was ‘why couldn’t we cast the demon out?’

But Jesus’ questions are a little more pointed: ‘What are you arguing about with them?’ 

‘You faithless generation, how much longer must I be among you? How much longer must I put up with you? 

‘What were you arguing about on the way?’

I imagine this is the rabbi version of a mother asking her children “do I have to come back there and separate you?”

Why were the disciples so afraid to ask Jesus questions when they didn’t understand what was going on?  Were they afraid that Jesus would rebuke them like he did Peter when Peter stuck his foot in his mouth?  Were they afraid that they would look silly if they asked the wrong question?  Were they afraid that Jesus would just ask another pointed question in return?

My guess is that it was a combination of these things.  They were afraid that they would look silly in front of the other disciples and would be put next to Peter as that other disciple that Jesus rebuked.  But, really who could blame them for being afraid to ask Jesus about something they didn’t understand.  For most adults, it’s a normal reaction.  We want to look like we’re on track with the straight A students in our class, we want to seem like we “get it” even though sometimes we don’t…because pretending to get it is a lot easier than having to admit that we don’t get it.  When I was in college, I didn’t get a lot of what was going on in my science classes…probably the first sign I should have majored in religion all along instead of torturing myself with a biology major.  But I was afraid to ask questions because I was so used to being the kid in high school who got it when it came to science.  I didn’t want to be thought of as that girl who asks the silly questions…did she even study the material?  So I didn’t ask questions…but I was also the kid who, in middle school asked all the questions that drove my classmates nuts because it often meant that we wouldn’t get out of confirmation class or math class early.  And I know I’m not the only one…somewhere between the beginning of middle school and the beginning of high school, questions become taboo…the but why? but why? but why? Stage has ended and self-consciousness takes over. 

And sometimes there’s a reason that we become afraid to ask questions…and that’s because we are taught that to question is to lack faith.  I have friends who were taught as children that it’s not ok to ask big questions about God and the church, because it means that you’re starting to go down the wrong path where faith is concerned.  You don’t want to become a doubting Thomas, do you?  One friend was asked by her pastor. 

But what’s wrong with being a doubting Thomas?  Thomas was the only one of the disciples with the boldness to ask questions, to put himself out there, and in the end he was the disciple that really got it.  Sadly, Thomas doesn’t get much play in the gospel of Mark, but I think that this allows Jesus to offer up a better example to the disciples, and to us, of what discipleship is all about…it’s about asking questions and not being afraid to be who you are, even if that means you don’t get it all the time. 

On the way, the disciples had taken up the argument over which one of them was the greatest…it was a common argument to be had amongst people of the time.  But their arguing went totally against the point of Jesus’ mission. Jesus’ mission and ministry wasn’t about being the greatest, it was about being a servant, it was about building up those around you instead of seeking to be built up.  And so he places a small child in the middle of the group of disciples, perhaps the child of one of the disciples and he says to them, ‘Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.’

The power behind this statement is immeasurable…more so for the disciples than it is for us.  You see, at that time, children were seen as the promise of the future...but in the meantime, they were also a liability.  A child was more likely to become ill and die, a child did participate in the productivity of the household…but not at the level of an adult, and a regardless of the child’s productivity, it was still another mouth to feed.  In other words, a child in the time of Jesus was seen in the same way as a servant…except that the child held a place of honor in the household…which was something that a slave would probably, and could probably, never attain.  The child being held in Jesus’ arms that day was an insider who was placed in the realm of the outsiders until the time in which it was able to be a fully productive member of the household.

But there’s more than that here…have you ever heard a child ask questions?  Why is the sky blue? Why is the grass green?  Are we there yet?  But why? But why not?  Have you ever noticed that it is the questions of a child that have the greatest ability to turn a parent or other adults face bright red? 

Children are not afraid to ask questions when they do not understand…they have a sincere curiosity about how the world works.  Chris and I are already preparing a list of ‘go ask your mom’ and ‘go ask your dad’ questions that, our little one might ask one day.  Children yearn for the special knowledge held by adults.  And I can imagine that if the disciples had been children, Jesus would have been answering but why questions all day when it came to the work that they were on a mission to do.  

 “whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me”

So how do we welcome those who are not seen at the greatest in the eyes of the world, but who have so much to teach us adults about asking questions when we don’t completely understand something?

How do we truly and 100% welcome the little ones around us who may be antsy in the pew on Sunday morning but who are so eager to learn the ways of the big kids? 

How do you see Jesus in the children that we welcome?   For it was Jesus who freed us to be able to be like children, not worrying about getting all the right answers and not afraid to ask the big, and little, questions.  Amen.