“Buried in the Past; Captive to What Was”: Personal Agony

Luke 18:13d: “‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’”*

Introduction

I know what I’m supposed to say
The lines on the script say that I’m okay
Standing on an island
I can only hear the silence
Deaf to the crowd that I claim to know
Standing in an ocean
I can barely feel the motion
All these waves drag me down
And I feel like I gotta go
I’m a castaway[1]

We are people who would rather grow still and die than move forward and change. We’d rather drown than fall head first in the void, letting go of our grip on comfort and what’s known.

I wish I had better words. But I don’t. One can die before they physically die. A person can drown without water. Death is only the cessation of movement forward and therein it can take many forms. Individually, we all suffer from the virus of the fear of change. We are so afraid of it that we get mad at people for changing (either good or bad). Relationships end because people change, and we are left where we were; I don’t even know who you are any more… We would rather leave beloved communities because too much has changed, it’s all unfamiliar; this isn’t anything like I remember. We cling to dusty relics hoping they will bring us the same joy they once did but no longer can and maybe they never did in the first place. We strive for happiness by thinking that all we need to do is to find that thing that was, that used to be. We valorize former versions of ourselves, thinking that if we want to be happy now, we need to go back to something that we believe used to be but never were.

My face is wearing thin
These thoughts, they chafe against my skin
Lost in the crowd again
And I swear I met this guy who seemed like a friend
Wow, look how far I’ve fallen
Now, everything’s dark
And I don’t wanna fall again
I’m a castaway[2]

We, ourselves, resist change as if change itself is the last word forever forbidding us from comfort and peace. I find this virus in my own flesh. I get stuck in wanting to reach and stretch backward to retrieve some form of me that was something better than I am now. If I could just get back there, be that person, recreate that sensation and feeling, then maybe I can be happy now. Maybe I’ll reach for some music, some habit, some fake mentality to recreate what I am convinced was there. But it’s a lie; a lie that kills the present and thus erases both the future and past. Trying to go backwards to retrieve something and drag it into the present prohibits me from going forward and forces the past (it’s stories and memories, it’s sensations and feelings) to bear a burden it cannot hold; the past can never be the present because it will dissolve into dust I our hands. We even resist change with ever weapon it has when it threated to take from us what we have grown accustomed to and know, what is familiar; we shun off anything new for fear that it will swallow us whole and forbid us from never having comfort again. As we resist change and forbid moving forward, we remain stuck in the past and captive to what was. In other words, WE ARE DEAD.

It’s okay to feel alone right now
I promise one day that we’ll make it out
Disney movies always have a happy ending
But I’m not feeling too happy yet
So I guess it’s not the end
Is there anyone out there
Looking out at sea
‘Cause I’m kinda scared now
That there’s no one there
For me[3]

Should I mention our desire to maintain systems and judgments, ideologies and dogmas, that have long ago expired? Systems and structures starting off well-meaning and decent become septic and toxic when we—in our voracious hubris—would rather die than see something new take its place. We’d rather that people suffer than maybe change the smallest part of the way we think about things because that change would require us to die to something that has brought us (too much?) comfort over the years. We’d rather leave people behind who love us because they’ve changed rather than dare to change with them. We’d rather grow cold than admit defeat or fault.

Isaiah 53: 1-9
He was despised and rejected by others;
a man of suffering and acquainted with infirmity;
and as one from whom others hide their faces
he was despised, and we held him of no account.
Surely he has borne our infirmities
and carried our diseases;
yet we accounted him stricken,
struck down by God, and afflicted.
But he was wounded for our transgressions,
crushed for our iniquities;
upon him was the punishment that made us whole,
and by his bruises we are healed.
All we like sheep have gone astray;
we have all turned to our own way,
and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all.
By a perversion of justice he was taken away.
Who could have imagined his future?
For he was cut off from the land of the living,
stricken for the transgression of my people.
They made his grave with the wicked
and his tomb with the rich,
although he had done no violence,
and there was no deceit in his mouth.
(Is. 53:2c-6, 8-9)

The agony articulated by one of the Isaiahs is our agony.[4] Today, this is where we are. Agony. We are in agony because we are exposed. Exposed to the core. Some how we must hold the goodness of our divine creation and our guilt of complicity in the myriad forms of death swirling all about us. We can be good and guilty. We can be beloved and guilty. (We must ditch the binary of guilty is bad and not-guilty is good. If we can’t, we’ll find ourselves justifying more and more death and violence and our confessions will become more and more false.) We can be good and guilty of participating in systems, narratives, ideologies, theologies, dogmas, doctrines that harm other people and ourselves. I know I am guilty of this. I know you are guilty of this. We are all convicted here.

Isaiah’s prophetic prayer highlights that whether we know it or not, whether we want to admit it or not, we are in agony and are suffering. We are suffering because of our resistance to move forward, our fear of change, our inability to let go and fall into something new. Thus, this suffering is not the product of divine chastisement; it’s the product of our own hands.[5] We are caught up in the muck and mire of the tension between being held captive and being complicit in our suffering and the suffering of others. Isaiah says, all have gone astray, we have all turned to our own way. Each of us is called to account for our complicit and captive actions against the revolution of divine life in the world.

We are in so much agony and suffering that our anger and fear cause us to choose to put God to death than abandon our own comfort security.

Conclusion

We are in agony, we are suffering, we are stuck, we are captive, and we are exposed.

Rather than let Christ’s voice call us, Christ’s actions challenge us, Christ’s presence change us, we clamored for Jesus’s death, and we got it. Because we hate change, hate being challenged, hate being called to move forward, the judgment of God is surely upon us. Today, in this story, we are reminded that Jesus bore our iniquity…because he bore our very, very bad judgment informed by the doctrines and dogmas of the kingdom of humanity and not the kingdom of God. The weight of that judgment, as we watch and witness the death of God by our hand, renders us to our own death. Today, our incarceration to our own comfort, to what makes our own selves feel safe comes to a cataclysmic head-on collision with God; none of us survive.

Today, we get what want, we force the past to be the present and erase the future; by our own hands we realize and affirm our captivity to our own fear and our being stuck in anger. Today, we stop moving; today, we are dead where we are as we were. Because today we killed God.

* small portions of this sermon are found in the Good Friday sermon from 2022.


[1] Kroh, “Castaway (feat. Halfy & Winks),” verse 1. This song was recommended to me by my son, Jackson H. L. Larkin

[2] Kroh, “Castaway (feat. Halfy & Winks),” verse 2.

[3] Kroh, “Castaway (feat. Halfy & Winks),” Chorus and Outro.

[4] Abraham Heschel The Prophets New York, NY: JPS, 1962. 149.

[5] Heschel Prophets 151

“A Hopeless Undertaking”

The following is a quote from Dorothee Sölle’s The Truth is Concrete (1969). It’s from the eleventh (and last) chapter, “Church outside the Church.” I bring this quote to light because it highlights Sölle’s prophetic witness and her keen insight. What she says here, I believe, applies to the C/church today. In 2024, we are in no better spot when it comes to desperate attempts to validate the C/church’s presence in the world. And the worst part, which I find well articulated here in Sölle’s words, is that the church prefers recourse to archaic structures and systems and useless assertions of power and demand, conformance and performance that seem to deny our technological and scientific advancements OR pretend that the human person is all fact and data, pure material truth without need of a reinvigoration of the retelling of our sacred myths (the enlightened and intellectual denominations (so proud) often jettison the very awkward message of the Christian sacred text and, thus, relinquish full interpretive control to the fundamentalist, rightist wing). Anyway, here are some words written about 55 years ago; enjoy and find within a summons to reconsider “Concrete Truth”:

“The main points in the structure are boundaries, danger, fear. The great enemy, the devil in ever new shape, is the world. The Church is always ready to forget that Christ has got the power over the dominions and that his victory is not just personal salvation of the individual but he has also changed the face of the world. We may remark in the last two hundred years that the situation of the Church has become more and more complicated, with the progress of secularization. She can no longer rely on the ancient pre-scientific fear-bound imaginations. She is losing her authority, her dominant position, she has become one power among many, and must therefore defend herself! She defends herself externally by virtue of claims to power which bear more or less weight according to the political situation. Internally she deals with her loss of authority by trying to preserve an outdated social structure. She proclaims that a part of the world, the past world, is unassailable and not subject to historical change. Then she bullies people to perform certain tasks which are made into conditions of membership of the Christian community. Somewhat unwillingly, she builds her walls and demands a way of life whose style and social norms and image are necessarily bourgeois. She demands, which is worse, the sort of community adherence which can no longer be expected, since people have less and less desire for this kind of thing. She demands, finally, that people should be interested in an ancient document, the Bible. These demands clearly constitute high walls. They are attempts to arrest the progress of secularization, at least in this area. It is a hopeless undertaking.”

p. 102-103

“Buried in the Past; Captive to What Was”: Christian Limitation

Psalm 107:1, 21-22 Give thanks to God, for God is good, and God’s mercy endures for ever… Let them give thanks to God for God’s mercy and the wonders God does…Let them offer a sacrifice of thanksgiving and tell of Abba God’s acts with shouts of joy.

Introduction

We’ve spent the last few weeks looking outside at the global, national, and local socio-political tumult, chaos, and turmoil. There are many fires burning right now, and not enough water to put them all out. Some of these problems are so big that it feels like that save divine intervention itself, nothing will stop the death and destruction or ease the fear and anger and bring peace. Maybe God should start over again…*cue the thunder…

With all that is going around us, we can become so caught up with the tumult, chaos, and turmoil that we forget that there’s more here than meets the eye. We can become caught up in feeling helpless, hopeless, pointless, and absorbed by our limitations; we can’t make it better so why bother. It’s here we, a Christian church, forget the rock on which our identity is founded on. God. God The Creator, God the Reconciler, God the Redeemer; God who is the source of divine revolution of love and harbinger of liberation unto life. The same God who creates something out of nothing; God who resurrects the dead into life. It is this God who is fundamentally the source of our life spiritual (visible and invisible) and of our life corporate (spiritual and temporal).

Yet, it is this God we are so quick to jettison and abandon with saccharine desires to “keep the church” or “make the church relevant.” We would rather adhere to institutional order than be oriented toward this radical divine entity eager to flip the cosmos right side up. We grow embarrassed of our awkward proclamations and let the abusers, the power hungry, and the narcissists tell us what we will and will not say. We seem eager to remain silent when Jesus, God’s Word incarnate, is highjacked for violent purposes, baptizing war and genocide, oppression and alienation in the name of our Triune Abba God. We’d rather cling to the rope of the status quo and just fit in than dare to let go and fall into God, become radical, and go against the grain.

In refusing to let go of the rope we find ourselves dangling from provokes our spiritual and existential exhaustion. If you feel spiritually fatigued, this is why. All we want to do (and are trying to do) is climb back up the rope; what if we went back just a few years when things were “normal” and everyone was still here and things were going just fine, wouldn’t that be better than this? We don’t need or want rebirth, we think to ourselves. We just want our old church back. We want to go back to when it didn’t hurt so much to come to church, when decisions were easy, when we could quietly be this church gathered together. There’s a pit in our collective stomach that yells and screams: Go back! Run back to what was! Go back to that shore that was once comfort! Go back to not knowing, go back to when it was easier, go back to when things were better…I don’t care where, just go back to where it’s safe to just live…

Human beings have a hard time fighting against this lure and seduction of the romanticized past; the more we fight the more stuck we become. We are buried in the past, captive to what was.

Numbers 21:4-9

And the Lord said to Moses, “Make a poisonous serpent, and set it on a pole; and everyone who is bitten shall look at it and live.” So Moses made a serpent of bronze, and put it upon a pole; and whenever a serpent bit someone, that person would look at the serpent of bronze and live.

We find ourselves in the book of Numbers, the fourth book of Torah that “…recounts memorable events of the Israelite wandering from Sinai, God’s mountain, to the plains of Moab, just opposite the promised land.”[1] The Israelites are still liberated from Egypt, still murmuring and grumbling, and still following God and Moses through the wilderness.[2] Our particular passage falls in the middle unit of Numbers, titled, “The Generation-long March in the Desert from Sinai to Moab.”[3] And this particular unit about the “Generation-long March in the Desert” demonstrates Israel’s “recurring cycle of murmuring and rebellion against the authority of God and Moses, by individuals or by the community as a whole.”[4] This “murmuring and rebellion” isn’t solely restricted to the people following God and Moses, but includes leaders like Aaron and Miriam—Moses’ sibling; it also include Moses himself demonstrating disloyalty to God.[5] Yet, when the murmuring and rebellion threatens to reach a fever pitch and provoke God’s beloved back to captivity, God acts and acts swiftly (e.g. the Tribe of Korah and Numbers 16).[6]

In our story, we find the Israelites fed up (again! [7]) with spontaneously generating quail, this weird coriander substance, and a lack of water. “There is no bread and no water, and we have come to loath this miserable food,” (aka Manna[8]) (v.5b).[9] God’s response? Snakes on a plain! These “snakes” were poisonous serpents with a burning bite.[10] Rightly, the people—watching “many Israelites” die because of the bites of the serpents—hie themselves to Moses. We sinned against God; intercede for us! Moses—mercifully—intercedes for them. God resolves the issue. Using God’s instrument of punishment, God tells Moses to make a seraph symbol and mount it high on a standard (v. 8). Moses does so, casting one of these serpents in bronze,[11] mounting it on a standard. Anyone who was bitten and looked up at this bronze snake was healed (v. 9). Israel, amid their dilemma and plight, are exhorted to look up at God rather than down at themselves; [12] it is not the snake that heals them, it is their right orientation toward God who is their source of love, life, and liberation. Through this bronze serpent on a pole, they are summoned to remember that God calls them to look to God and to follow God even when it means missing those creature comforts of way back when and following God into the unknown and uncomfortable. God heals Israel as they turn to God; God liberates Israel when Israel follows God.

Conclusion

God is not stuck in the past; God is not captive to what was. God summons and coaxes forward God’s beloved—all creation, from the teensiest, weensiest critter to the biggest, ziggest beast; from the ones that live deep in the oceanic abyss to the ones residing on the peakiest of mountains. God woos the beloved forward, into something NEW, into something new and of God because backward is the stuff of humanity that has long ago expired, gone sour, become septic. Liberation for Israel is not a liberation to go backward, which is a return to captivity. Rather, Israel is liberated to step forward into the unknown, dared to fall into the void of faith and God, knowing that they cannot achieve this depth of liberation and life and love apart from God. They cannot leave God in the past as if God is no longer a necessary hypothesis. For this group of people, God is the beginning and the end of their life, love and liberation…no matter how banal the food has become and how boring the water from a rock.

Beloved in Christ, we are currently in a similar plight. We are surrounded by global tumult, national chaos, and local turmoil—vicious, deadly snakes, nipping at ankles. Now is not the time to jettison God and forsake God’s word. God desires to beckon us forward out of what we know, away from what was, and to lift our heads to God’s self. To forsake any portion of the proclamation of Christ will be the nail in the coffin of the Christian church. When we forget our source of life, love, and liberation we will hand the entire story over to those who are determined to use it to bring death and destruction. If we are dead set on going backward, clinging to our comforts and ease, we will be unable to lift our head to gaze upon God’s standard fixed upon the cross, because we will be too focused on ourselves. We will miss the One who can bring and guide us toward healing, peace, mercy, grace, and justice; we will sell our identity and existence as church for a few pieces of silver. We must let faith lead us to let go of the rope and fall into God, fall into the impossible so that God may bear through us God’s divine possibility. We must each gaze up at God’s standard and sing,

O to grace how great a debtor
Daily I’m constrained to be!
Let Thy goodness, like a fetter,
Bind my wandering heart to Thee.
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
Prone to leave the God I love;
Here’s my heart, O take and seal it,
Seal it for Thy courts above.[13]

Beloved, God calls, may our ears perk up. God comforts, may our souls be soothed. God speaks, may our ears delight in comforting words. God comes, may we run to Abba God. God is doing a new thing in this man from Nazareth, Jesus, the beloved, in whom, by whom, and through whom we are being coaxed forward, released from the past and liberated from what was…


[1] Nili S. Fox, “Numbers, The Jewish Study Bible Jewish Publication Society Tanakh Translation, eds. Adele Berlin and Marc Zvi Brettler (Oxford: OUP, 2004), 281.

[2] Fox, “Numbers,” 281. “Thus, Numbers continues the story begun in Exodus and continued in Leviticus of the escape from Egyptian servitude, the desert journey to Mount Sinai, the revelation at Sinai and giving of the law, and the building of the Tabernacle with instruction on its operation.”

[3] Fox, “Numbers,” 282.

[4] Fox, “Numbers,” 282.

[5] Fox, “Numbers,” 282.

[6] Fox, “Numbers,” 282.

[7] Fox, “Numbers,” 325. “Once again the people revolt against God and Moses.”

[8] Fox, “Numbers,” 326. “This miserable food refers to the manna.”

[9] Nili S. Fox, “Numbers,” The Jewish Study Bible Jewish Publication Society Tanakh Translation, eds. Adele Berlin and Marc Zvi Brettler (Oxford: OUP, 2004), 325. “This incident is the final recurrence of wilderness murmuring. Complaints again center around a lack of water and poor food.”

[10] Fox, “Numbers,” 326. “Seraph serpents, based on the verb, means ‘burning serpents,’ because of the poisonous bite.”

[11] Fox, “Numbers,” 325. A copper serpent more likely refers to one made of bronze, a copper-tin alloy.

[12] Fox, “Numbers,” 326. “Rabbinic interpreters were disturbed by the magical nature of this cure, and suggested that it was the glance of the afflicted to their father in heaven, rather than the snake, which effected the cure.”

[13] Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing

“Buried in the Past; Captive to What Was”: Local Turmoil

Psalm 19: 13-14 Above all, keep your servant from presumptuous sins; let them not get dominion over me; then shall I be whole and sound, and innocent of a great offense. Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O God, my strength and my redeemer.

Introduction

On Lent one, our focus was on the world and its tumult. On Lent two, we turned our attention toward our own nation and its chaos. But all of that, while important, still feels a bit out of reach. Like I mentioned last week, it is easy to blind ourselves to our local problems by focusing more broadly beyond where we live. It is easy to ignore national chaos because of global tumult. And it is easy to forego attention to local turmoil, by focusing on national chaos. Again, it’s worth mentioning that giving some attention to global and national crises and unrest is a good thing. But we cannot lose sight of the fact that large problems start small; the problems we see in the world and in our nation start in our immediate surroundings. Our local communities are fractals of the globe; the problems of the globe are also present in our local communities.

Our communities are as bogged down by deep divides infecting our nation and world. Bumper stickers tell you whose side everyone is on, as well as personal yard signs and church marquees. There are a few spots here on Broadway where I’m certain two houses across the street from each other are intentionally bating the other. “Us v. Them” is a plague locally—as it is nationally and globally. It’s hard to know who to trust, and we vet each other strictly; if there’s one lapse in overlap, there’s no solidarity. Schools are being shut down and religious institutions are closing for lack of being chosen; houses are hard to buy, and so is food for many in our local populations. Neighbors barely know neighbors, or, rather, barely want to get to know neighbors (remember “block parties”?). We are individual units yoked together by a shared street name. Unity seems to be breaking down more and more and faster and faster as invisible segregation lines are drawn between rich and poor, housed and unhoused, fed and unfed, abled and differently abled, young and old.

At times it all feels so pointless. How can I even begin to chip away at barriers when I don’t have the energy to take down my own? It’s easier to be blind to my neighbor and their lives. I want to close my blinds and forget the issues of my local environment. I’m growing weary of repeating the same message…I can only preach to the choir so often before the choir grows tired, bored, and leaves. How many more attempted relationships at solidarity will fall to the ground because of unachievable expectations of a perfect fit? How long before I run out of gas and quit? It’s demoralizing trying to fill in trenches falsely separating humans from humans only to have them dug again. There’s a pit in my stomach that yells and screams: Go back! Run back to what was! Go back to that shore that was once comfort! Go back to not knowing, go back to when it was easier, go back to when things were better…I don’t care where, just go back to where it’s safe to just live…

Human beings have a hard time fighting against this lure and seduction of the romanticized past; the more we fight the more stuck we become. We are buried in the past, captive to what was.

Exodus 20:1-17

Then God spoke all these words:

I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery; you shall have no other gods before me.

In our First Testament passage we witness Israel receiving (directly) God’s Ten Commandments, or, rather, God’s “Ten Words” or “Ten Statements.”[1] The “Ten Words” arrives midway in the story of Israel’s release from Egypt and their journey toward something new. Chapter 15 marks the end of the old life of slavery and captivity and the beginning of Israel’s new life as liberated disciples of God. In chapter 16, the people grumble. It’s been (about) a week since witnessing the great event of water tearing itself apart (once again!) to create a new life of liberation and love on the other side of the Sea of Reeds; a week since “And when Israel saw the wondrous power which the Lord had wielded against the Egyptians, the people feared the Lord; they had faith I n the Lord and His servant Moses,” (14:31). It doesn’t take much to send the people back toward their old disposition, “The Israelites said to [Moses and Aaron], ‘If only we had died by the hand of the Lord in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the fleshpots, when we ate our fill of bread! For you have brought us out into this wilderness to starve this whole congregation to death,’” (16:3). How quickly the past lures and beckons, how quickly old captivity and its pain is forgotten.

In response to the hunger, God gives them quail (in the morning) and manna (at night) (16:13ff). And then in chapter 17 there is more traveling and more grumbling, this time about water (17:1ff). Here Moses strikes a rock and water flows (17:6-7). In chapter 18, Moses elects a council of men to help him administratively lead the people. Then in chapter 19, which seems to be about 3 months (3 new moons, v. 1), the people of God find themselves at the base of Mount Sinai, where Israel’s most defining moment with God occurs.[2] It’s here at Sinai where Moses goes up to commune with God and then bring a message back down to the people. In chapter 20, Moses brings these “Ten Words” of God to God’s people Israel. It’s these “Ten Words” that will forever define and delineate Israel’s new relationship with God.[3] Most principally, “you shall have no other Gods before me,” not yourselves and not the past. Israel shall always keep God front and center and by doing this, they keep the neighbor in their sights, too.

Through the “Ten Words,” Israel is beckoned forward unto God.” This is the Law of God; this isn’t just any law but one elevated and sanctified. These “Ten Words” are the very thing that will shape, grow, and orient Israel in the world toward their divine Creator and King[4] and toward the well-being of their neighbor in ethical praxis.[5] They will shape, and grow, and orient Israel toward God and the neighbor for all generations, in all eras, no matter where they find themselves. These “Ten Words” anchor Israel not in the world as static and stuck, but in God who is dynamic and on the move. Israel is not to go backward to Egypt to find their comfort and safety, this would be to worship other gods thus fracturing all “Ten Words.” Rather, they are called to go forward to follow God who is the God who liberated them from captivity so they can be free to follow God and God free to lead them through the days and nights of faith and love to new and abundant life.

Conclusion

God is not stuck in the past; God is not captive to what was. God summons and coaxes forward God’s beloved—all creation, from the teensiest, weensiest critter to the biggest, ziggest beast; from the ones that live deep in the oceanic abyss to the ones residing on the peakiest of mountains. God woos the beloved forward, into something NEW, into something new and of God because backward is the stuff of humanity that has long ago expired, gone sour, become septic. Liberation for Israel is not a liberation to go backward, which is a return to captivity. Rather, Israel is liberated to step forward into the unknown, dared to fall into the void of faith and God, knowing that their path will be illuminated—step by step—by the presence of God by the divine fire and cloud and formed by the “Ten Words.” With these “Ten Words,” Israel knows—yesterday, today, and tomorrow—how to walk on into God and with the neighbor.

For us, in our situation, looking around at our local situations, looking at the isolation, alienation, loneliness, lack of solidarity, the barriers, and the existential fatigue and exhaustion, we who follow Christ follow a new and different way of God. A way dedicated to and informed by these shared ancient “Ten Words” given to Israel. Through these sacred “Ten Words,” we are exhorted to be bold, to dare to love through barriers, to reach out, to keep trying, to stand up after we fall, and have the audacity not to be intimidated by the local narratives wishing to silence by means of fear and anger. However, we cannot do so if we are dead set on going backward, desperately clinging to our comforts and ease. We must let faith lead us down into the darkness, into the impossible so that God may bear through us God’s divine possibility. We, like Israel, must walk with God by cloud and pillar of fire, step by step.

Beloved, God calls, may our ears perk up. God comforts, may our souls be soothed. God speaks, may our ears delight in comforting words. God comes, may we run to Abba God. God is doing a new thing in this man from Nazareth, Jesus, the beloved, in whom, by whom, and through whom we are being coaxed forward, released from the past and liberated from what was…


[1] Jeffrey H. Tigay “Exodus” The Jewish Study Bible Jewish Publication Society Tanakh Translation. Eds. Adele Berlin and Marc Zvi Brettler. Oxford: OUP, 2004. 148. Ex. 20.1-14. “(‘Decalogue,’ form the Latin for ‘ten words,’ or ‘ten statements,’ is a more. Literal rendition of Heb than ‘Then Commandments.’) They are addressed directly to the people. No punishments are stated; obedience is motivated not by fear of punishment but by God’s absolute authority and the people’s desire to live in accordance with His will.”

[2] Tigay, “Exodus,” JPS, 145.

[3] Tigay, “Exodus,” JPS, 145-147.

[4] Tigay, “Exodus” JPS, 148. “Implicit in this biblical view is that God is Israel’s king, hence its legislator.”

[5] Tigay, “Exodus” JPS, 148. “The items in the Decalogue are arranged in two groups. Duties to God come first. Each commandment in this group contains the phrase, ‘the Lord your God.’ The second group contains duties toward fellow humans, which are depicted as being of equal concern to God.”

“Buried in the Past; Captive to What Was”: National Chaos

For the audio and visual of this sermon:

Psalm 22:22-23  Praise God, you that fear God; stand in awe of Abba God, O offspring of Israel; all you of Jacob’s line, give glory. For God does not despise nor abhor the poor in their poverty; neither does Abba God hide God’s face from them; but when they cry to Abba God, God hears them.

Introduction

Last week our focus was on the world and its mess. In this global chaos and tumult, it’s easy to lose sight of our own national crises. Sometimes, we will find some sort of macabre comfort casting our gazes outward toward wars located across the planet because we it allows us to ignore what’s going on here within our own boarders (or just outside of them). We’re eager to support causes and advocate for cease-fire, we quickly gather money and supplies and send them across oceans, and we pray and plea for an end to the loss of life and carnage. We throw our weight in the ring backing organizations uphold our personal values, sending aid and assistance to war-torn countries.

None of this is wrong; and I am not criticizing it. However, the error comes when our attention is so solidly fixed elsewhere that we forget our nation is also quite chaotic right now. All I have to say is, “election year”; I bet I solicited a cornucopia of feelings and sensations as 2024 begins to draw its political battle lines—each side suiting up to take the victor’s seat. Each election draws these lines darker and deeper. Each election creates new mythologies and falsehoods burying the truth—whatever that is—deeper in the ground. An election year reminds all of us that our bodies and our lives do not really matter in battles for the seat; many of our bodies are just collateral damage in the debates about legitimacy and alterity. Anyone here feel certain they’re seen, heard, and truly represented? Or are we just chips in a wager on the political poker table where winner takes all?

So much feels hopeless. Anyone feel safe? Our classrooms (from preschools to universities) aren’t safe, not with easy access to military weapons. School bathrooms aren’t safe, not with antiqueer and homophobic rhetoric inspiring violence against our queer children. Grocery stores aren’t safe; roads aren’t safe either. We live in a world that is caught on a seesaw of anger and fear; each time one side drops to the ground it sends out tumultuous waves and ripples of violence, death, and chaos killing, maiming, and disorienting everyone. Every day feels like a gamble, will we all come home tonight or will sorrow and grief darken my door? I feel as if I’m striving to cling to anything, but it’s all slipping away from under my fingers. There’s a pit in my stomach that yells and screams: Go back! Run back to what was! Go back to that shore that was once comfort! Go back to not knowing, go back to when it was easier, go back to when things were better…I don’t care where, just go back to where it’s safe to just live…

Human beings have a hard time fighting against this lure and seduction of the romanticized past; the more we fight the more stuck we become. We are buried in the past, captive to what was.

Genesis 17:1-7, 15-16

…God said to him, “As for me, this is my covenant with you: You shall be the ancestor of a multitude of nations. No longer shall your name be Abram, but your name shall be Abraham; for I have made you the ancestor of a multitude of nations. I will make you exceedingly fruitful; and I will make nations of you, and kings shall come from you.’…“As for Sarai your wife, you shall not call her Sarai, but Sarah shall be her name. I will bless her, and moreover I will give you a son by her. I will bless her, and she shall give rise to nations; kings of peoples shall come from her.”

In our story in Genesis, Moses tells us about the third statement of the covenant between God and Abraham. The first one takes place in Genesis 12 where God initially summons Abram to follow God and God will bless him making him into a great nation. The second time is when this covenant is made more specific in chapter 15. Then our text in chapter 17 is another statement with no reference to the previous statements but incorporating two new aspects to the covenant: a sign will accompany this covenant (circumcision) and a direct mention of Sarai.[1] This iteration of the covenant between Abram and God bears more resemblance to God’s covenant with Noah than it does to the other two summons and covenants.[2]

Moses records God’s discourse to Abram opening with “‘I am El Shaddai.’” This name may appear out of nowhere, but it illuminates the dating of the text. There is some belief that this name means, “‘God, the One of the Mountain,’”[3] and is the way the patriarchs (not Moses) would have experienced God; YHWH—the four-letter word translated as the Lord—would be the word for God known among Moses’s era.[4] So, El Shaddai shows up and speaks to Abram. Abram, at 99, throws himself on his face in the presence of God. And God continues to speak by restating the previous pacts with Abraham. However, this time God changes Abraham’s name because of the future fulfillment of this pact; thus, Abram’s name change to Abraham and Sarai’s change to Sarah mark out their shared destiny: they who are childless will be the progenitors of nations and royal dynasties.[5] This is God’s eternal covenant with Abraham and Sarah and all their offspring and this everlasting covenant will not only bless Abraham and Sarah and their descendants but also all the nations.

God summons Abram and Sarai to walk in a new way, to follow God and walk in God’s ways. This is not a backwards motion. They are called further forward and further into the covenant with God. “Abraham threw himself on his face and laughed, as he said to himself, ‘Can a child be born to a man a hundred year sold, or can Sarah bear a child at ninety?’” (v. 17). They are asked to walk forward by faith and love, to take hold of God’s hand and descend into the mysteriously impossibile so that God can birth divine possibility through them. They are summoned to die to what they know, all that is comfortable and familiar, even die to that which is scientifically possible, so that they can proceed headfirst into the void of uncomfortable and unfamiliar, into the unknown. Abraham and Sarah must cling to God and descend into this profound mystery.

Conclusion

God is not stuck in the past; God is not captive to what was. God summons and coaxes forward God’s beloved—all creation, from the teensiest, weensiest critter to the biggest, ziggest beast; from the ones that live deep in the oceanic abyss to the ones residing on the peakiest of mountains. God woos the beloved forward, into something NEW, into something new and of God because backward is the stuff of humanity that has long ago expired, gone sour, become septic. For Abram and Sarai, the only way is forward by faith with God as Abraham and Sarah. God does not desire to do an old thing with God’s people; God desires to do new things with his people in a new way and to have them be known by new names.

For us, in our situation, facing what we are facing in our land, the chaos and tumults, the death and destruction, the fear and the anger, we who follow Christ, follow a new and different way of God. Our land is deeply threatened by the old narratives, desperately trying to keep themselves relevant; but they’re not. To follow in these ways is to walk in the way of hopelessness. Rather, we are exhorted to walk with God, to follow in God’s ways, to follow Christ, to live according to the Spirit of love, life, and liberation so that we can bring God’s liberation, life, and love to everyone caught in captivity, death, and indifference as if their lives were expendable (both young and old). However, we cannot do it if we are dead set on going backward, desperately clinging to our comforts and ease. We must let faith lead us down into the darkness, into the impossible so that God may bear through us God’s divine possibility.

Beloved, God calls, may our ears perk up. God comforts, may our souls be soothed. God speaks, may our ears delight in comforting words. God comes, may we run to Abba God. God is doing a new thing in this man from Nazareth, Jesus, the beloved, in whom, by whom, and through whom we are being coaxed forward, released from the past and liberated from what was…


[1] Jon D. Levenson, “Genesis,” The Jewish Study Bible Jewish Publication Society Tanakh Translation, eds. Adele Berlin and Marc Zvi Brettler (Oxford: OUP, 2004), 37. “Nothing in ch 17 indicates any awareness that the covenant mandated therein has, in fact, already been established two chapter earlier. In our chapter, the two chief innovations are that the covenant acquires a sign (circumcision, v. 10) and that it is Sarah who, despite her advanced age, shall bear the promised son (vv. 15-16, 19).”

[2] Leveson, “Genesis,” 37. “The closest parallel to ch 17 in style and diction is 9.1-17, the account of the covenant with Noah.”

[3] Leveson, “Genesis,” 37. , “El Shaddai is believed to have originally meant ‘God, the One of the Mountain’ and thus to have expressed the association of a deity with his mountain abode well known in Canaanite literature.”

[4] Leveson, “Genesis,” 37. “…the four-letter name translated as Lord was disclosed only in the time of Moses (Exod. 6.2-3), and El Shaddai was the name by which God revealed Himself to the patriarchs.”

[5] Leveson, “Genesis,” 37-38. “The change of name here and in v. 15 signifies change in destiny: The Childless couple will become the ancestors of many nations, including royal dynasties (v. 6).”

“Buried in the Past, Captive to What Was”: Global Tumult

Psalm 25:7-9 Gracious and upright is God; therefore God teaches sinners in God’s way. Abba God guides the humble in doing right and teaches God’s way to the lowly. All the paths of God are love and faithfulness to those who keep Abba God’s covenant and testimonies.

Introduction

Our world is a mess. Or at least that’s what it feels like. I know we have more access to news via our news feeds, time-lines, and favorite broadcast networks and maybe this could be the reason it feels like our world is such a mess at this moment. But I’m not sure about that. While I know that the average person has more access to knowing what is going on in the world than in eras past, I’m not convinced that’s the reason why it all feels like so much right now. I think it is a lot right now.

I don’t claim that this era is unique in comparison to other eras. I’ve studied the history of the Reformation and know that the 15th and 16th centuries were familiar with kingdoms and kings battling other kingdoms and kings for various reasons—often to serve their own vainglory (in the name of God) to assert one’s power over another kingdom to increase their own territory and reign. The only thing I can claim is that with the advancement of weaponry at human disposal, world-end feels prescient, like it really could happen at any time given the right set of conditions and circumstances, and the right wounded egos. The world feels precariously balanced between life and death. Can this earth and its inhabitants handle one more war? Can it actually put up with one more people group being put under the threat of extinction? Can our world stand under the growing and surging weight of hate and violence?

At times it all feels so helpless. What am I to do? If World War III happens, it happens; and, most likely, many of us will only know it started and not if it ended because the threat of annihilation on a global scale is not unlikely (to use a negative to put it as positively as possible). There’s a pit in my stomach that yells and screams: Go back! Run back to what was! Go back to that shore that was once comfort! Go back to not knowing, go back to when it was easier, go back to when things were better…I don’t care where, just go back to where its safe to just live…

Human beings have a hard time fighting against this lure and seduction of the romanticized past; the more we fight the more stuck we become. We are buried in the past, captive to what was.

Genesis 9:8-17

God said to Noah and to his sons with him, “As for me, I am establishing my covenant with you and your descendants after you, and with every living creature that is with you, the birds, the domestic animals, and every animal of the earth with you, as many as came out of the ark. I establish my covenant with you, that never again shall all flesh be cut off by the waters of a flood, and never again shall there be a flood to destroy the earth.”

This week, Moses tells us of a tale of human behavior gone rancid. Righteousness upon the earth was non-existent save a small family. According to Moses, the world was in such a state that God sent a flood to wipe all unrighteousness from the earth; God wanted to start over. And God did start over. After finding Noah and Noah’s family and after the ark was built carrying two of each kind of animal, God sent heavy rains and flooded the earth. Not a piece of land was left dry when the rains were done. Water covered the entire earth, much like the beginning in Genesis 1 when the Spirit of God hovered over the face of the deep.

This story is hard to swallow and engage with; the cruelty of God is palpable. I mean, weren’t all those people just living as they were taught to live, accustomed to their social situations, and going about their normal lives? Isn’t this response a bit dramatic? A bit violent? A bit much? Would a God of peace and love blot out an entire generation of creation in the blink of an eye because none of it was up to God’s self-defined divine standard?

I don’t blame anyone for focusing on that aspect of the story, and I welcome it. And being aware that the violence of the flood is a part of the story, I want to stress that it’s not the only part of the story: God does not wipe away all humanity but saves a remnant and then proceeds to make a covenant with them. It’s this part of the story that functions as the modus operandi for this sermon. Without ignoring the violence, we can ask: why did God save this family and wipe out the entirety of the human kingdom, thus alleviating the world of such pestilence? Well, God doesn’t tolerate human hubris run amok that threatens life on earth—even the life of the earth itself. God also isn’t stuck in the past but is eager to walk forward into the future with God’s beloved, the righteous remnant, and to continue to establish covenants with them,[1] “everlasting” pacts stitched on the hearts of God and God’s beloved by a sign: this time, a rainbow.[2],[3]

An interesting aspect of this everlasting pact/covenant is that it’s not strictly with Noah and his descendants, as if this specific family alone benefits from the promise embedded in the technicolor bow in the sky that God will never again send the waters to cure the world of human hubris. Keeping in mind the totality of the divine cleansing of the earth, Noah, like Adam before him, now represents all humanity. [4] Thus, God vows God’s extraordinary love,[5] God’s self, and God’s eternal promise to all humanity, all flora and fauna, all the earth.[6] And not only for those present, but the bow ringing the sky—bringing assurance and comfort to all eyes resting upon it[7]—is for all generations from Noah onward, for “all their offspring until the end of the world,” to quote Martin Luther.[8]

Conclusion

God is not stuck in the past; God is not captive to what was. God summons and coaxes forward God’s beloved[9]—all creation, from the teensiest, weensiest critter to the biggest, ziggest beast; from the ones that live deep in the oceanic abyss to the ones residing on the peakiest of mountains. God woos the beloved forward, into something NEW, into something new and of God because backward is the stuff of humanity that has long ago expired, gone sour, become septic. As the waters recede for Noah and his barge of beasts, the only direction is forward into God, eyes fixed on the rainbow of divine promise, into the faith.

Beloved, we are being addressed by God in this story. We need to hear and harken to the call of God’s loving voice, beckoning us forward through this global tumult and chaos, forward into God. Martin Luther writes in his commentary on Genesis,

“We, too, need this comfort today, in order that despite a great variety of stormy weather we may have no doubt that the sluice gates of the heavens and the fountains of the deep have been closed by the Word of God. The rainbow makes its appearance even now, to be a sure sign that a universal flood will not occur in the future. Hence this promise demands also from us that we believe that God has compassion on the human race and will not rage against us in the future by means of a universal flood.”[10]

God calls, may our ears perk up. God comforts, may our souls be soothed. God speaks, may our ears delight in comforting words. God comes, may we run to Abba God. God is doing a new thing in this man from Nazareth, Jesus, the beloved, in whom, by whom, and through whom we are being coaxed forward, released from the past and liberated from what was…


[1] Jon D. Levenson, “Gensis,” The Jewish Study Bible Jewish Publication Society Tanakh Translation, eds. Adele Berlin and Marc Zvi Brettler (Oxford: OUP, 2004), 24-25. “Having rescued the righteous remnant from the lethal waters, God now makes a covenant with them, just as He will with the people of Israel at Sinai after enabling them to escape across the Sea of Reeds. The closest parallel to our passage, however, is Gen. 17 (the covenant with Abraham)…”

[2] Levenson, “Genesis,” 25. “In each case, God makes an everlasting covenant or ‘pact’…memorialized by a distinctive sign the rainbow in the case of Noah…and circumcision in the case of Abraham and the Jewish people who, he is promise, shall descend from him…”

[3] LW 2:144. “Moreover, this passage also teaches us how God is wont always to link His promise with a sign, just as previously, in the third chapter, we called attention to the garments of skins with which He clothed the naked human beings as a sign that He wanted to protect, defend, and preserve them.”

[4] Levenson, “Genesis,” 25. “…‘descendants of Noah’—that is, universal humanity…”

[5] LW 2:145. “When the same matter is repeated so many times, this is an indication of God’s extraordinary affection for mankind. He is trying to hope for blessing and for the utmost forbearance.”

[6] LW 2:143-144. “…because the covenant of which this passage is speaking involves not only mankind but every living soul, it must be understood, not of the promise of the Seed but of this physical life, which even the dumb animals enjoy in common with us: this God does not intend to destroy in the future by a flood.”

[7] LW 2:145. “For this is the particular nature of signs, that they dispense comfort, not terror. To this end also the sign of the bow was established and added to the promise.”

[8] LW 2:144. “Careful note must be taken of the phrase ‘for all future generations,’ for it includes not only the human beings of that time and the animals of that time but all their offspring until the end of the world.”

[9] LW 2:145. “It is for this reason that God shows Himself benevolent in such a variety of ways and takes such extraordinary delight in pouring forth compassion, like a mother who is caressing and petting her child in order that it may finally begin to forget its tears and smile at its mother.”

[10] LW 2:146.

“Buried in the Past, Captive to What Was”: Ash Wednesday

Psalm 103:20-22 Bless God, you angels, you mighty ones who do God’s bidding, and hearken to the voice of God’s word. Bless Abba God, all you his hosts, you ministers of God who do God’s will. Bless God, all you works of God, in all places of God’s dominion; bless Abba God, O my soul.

Introduction

We are about a month away from hitting the fourth anniversary of Covid_19 shutting down the world and turning it completely upside down. I can simultaneously believe and not believe that it’s been that long and only that long. It feels like yesterday and so long ago. Time feels thin right now, caught in a paradox of fast and slow, so close and yet so far away, here and not here.

But it’s not only time that feels caught in such a paradox. The atmosphere surrounding our bodies feels caught in its own paradox of familiar and strange. I don’t think I feel all that different than I did on March 12, 2020, but then I feel completely different, like maybe I don’t share one genetic similarity with that woman. But I do! She and I are one, and we did go through and are still going through that massive event that plunged the world into chaos.

And it’s more than just a personal sensation, something unique and private to me. It’s impacting all of us. And not only those of us here in this room, but in our community, in our state, in our nation, and in our world. This entire ball of matter orbiting its sun feels submerged in tumult. One global event after another arises, reminding us viscerally that our lives are short and our bodies fragile and vulnerable. We are not in control, are we? War and violence, genocide and extermination, hate and rage are the fuel motivating bloated egos consumed with power toward global extinction. Our own country grows continually divided over who has liberty and who doesn’t, xenophobia is (re)peaking (if you are not just like us then you are against us), our neighbors are becoming our supposed enemies to our own private freedom and liberty blinding us to the fact that we might be the enemy to ourselves; in short, everything and everyone is a threat. Our many places of worship, those once deemed sacred and safe places, are now battle-ground-zeros for so many people who are sure they know exactly what God thinks and wants, drawing lines thick and dark in the sand, meanwhile fighting terribly to keep their institutional heads above the waters of financial ruin and destitution, afraid to let death come and claim its victims and houses.

Almost four years ago we were thrown into a rupture in time and space, and—I don’t know about you—but it doesn’t feel like we’ve been rescued from it just yet. In fact, I’ll say it boldly, we have not been rescued; we’re still in the rupture. We are further in and further down, but not up and not out.

So, what do we do? Well, the tendency for human nature is to go backward, return to the shore of familiarity and comfortable, swim back to what was, and to ignore that our memory of the past silences malicious secrets and covers over terrible deeds. Humans are convinced that what we know is easier to battle than what we don’t know. We love to look backward with rose colored glasses and reminisce with fondness about things that, frankly, never truly existed as remembered. Our minds lie to us, lure us backward toward images of yesterday that are (actually) images of never-where and never-when. We are easily seduced by thoughts that somehow the past was better, more vibrant, simpler, without difficulty; wasn’t it easier back then…

Human beings have a hard time fighting against this lure and seduction of the romanticized past; the more we fight the more stuck we become. We are buried in the past, captive to what was.

Joel 2:1-2,12-17

Blow the trumpet in Zion;
sound the alarm on my holy mountain!
Let all the inhabitants of the land tremble,
for the day of the Lord is coming, it is near–
a day of darkness and gloom,
a day of clouds and thick darkness!
Like blackness spread upon the mountains
a great and powerful army comes;
their like has never been from of old,
nor will be again after them
in ages to come.

It seems Joel’s ancient, prophetic words ring true today. There is trembling among the people, darkness and gloom feel real while clouds and thick darkness taunt us from above. The day of God comes, and we’re yet to be saved from it. There is fear here, in Joel’s words. The people should be afraid of God, says Joel, but not of humanity.[1] But this fear is not because God’s principle characteristic is anger or wrath because God’s character is foremost longsuffering and patient, forgiving and merciful. [2],[3]

Yet even now, says the Lord,
return to me with all your heart,
with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning;
rend your hearts and not your clothing.
Return to the Lord, your God,
for he is gracious and merciful,
slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love,
and relents from punishing.
Who knows whether he will not turn and relent,
and leave a blessing behind him,
a grain offering and a drink offering
for the Lord, your God?

The people should fear this day of God’s arrival because God will come and expose that what the people have created as a sham: mere phantoms of good; things built in the image of humanity and not by the divine inspiration of God’s loving and gracious Spirit. Joel’s pronouncement of God’s coming judgment and anger summons the people out of themselves—their egos, their power, their pleasure, their comfort—and redirects them to a proper relationship to God (one of dependence and trust, one of reverence and forgiveness). Joel makes it clear, the people have gone astray, they must return to God because in this return God’s displeasure is (potentially) fleeting; it is a moment in time that happens, it will not last forever. [4]

Blow the trumpet in Zion;
sanctify a fast;
call a solemn assembly;
gather the people.
Sanctify the congregation;
assemble the aged;
gather the children,
even infants at the breast.
Let the bridegroom leave his room,
and the bride her canopy.

God loves God’s people; however, according to all the prophets of Israel and including Joel, God does not love it when the people forfeit their relationship with God for a relationship with power and privilege thus obstructing the wellbeing and livelihood of their neighbors. God does not deal kindly with such mischief. Thus, with their society on ethe edge of judgment and being engulfed by the divine pathos for the Beloved, according to Joel, God’s people can do something to mitigate this coming moment of wrath: they can turn to God because God is merciful and gracious[5] and this turning to God will turn away God’s displeasure,[6] especially if they return in time before God’s day of judgment arrives.[7]

Between the vestibule and the altar
let the priests, the ministers of the Lord, weep.
Let them say, “Spare your people, O Lord,
and do not make your heritage a mockery,
a byword among the nations.
Why should it be said among the peoples,
`Where is their God?'”

The Spiritual Leaders of God’s people, according to Joel, are to weep and pray. This is the beginning of a restored orientation toward God. The Spiritual Leaders petition God for God to spare the people and to honor God’s “heritage” thus establishing God’s people among the nations from this time forward. Therein God’s presence among the people will be sustained, letting the world know that God has not abandoned God’s people. Thus, Joel’s question posed by the mouths of priests, “Where is their God?” is moot because God is with them. However, if there is no return to God, then the bitter question remains on the mouths of Israel’s adversaries: where is the Lord your God?[8]

Conclusion

What direction should God’s people turn to return to a right relationship and orientation toward God? Not backward. Israel must not turn backwards to seek God because God is not located in the past, like a relic, stuck in the time and place of yesterday. By going backward, Israel would be betray just how deep is their alliance with their own image. To return to what is known and familiar is always to return to what is human, comprehended with the eyes and ears, to that which is known. To return to what is familiar to deprive God of faith and honor, trust and glory. Thus, it is the way of stagnancy and the status-quo, the way of fearing humans and not God. Going backward, for Israel, will seal their death sentence, hammer in the last nail in their coffin.

To return to God is to move forward into the unknown, to jump into the void, to dive into the rupture. It is all about facing the chaos and discomfort of that which is unseen and yet held by faith and hope. To hear the summons of God from the void, to sense the prophetic summons of God beckoning from the rupture, is to trust and to account to God that which is God’s: worthy of trust and faith; it is to proclaim that God is the truth and the way, thus God is the life. To move forward by faith and trust is to declare to the people and the world that God has not abandoned God’s people; to dive into the void is to affirm that even in this chaos God is present and able to bring order; to jump into the rupture is to render trustworthy God’s promises that all things are possible with God and that God can and will create out of nothing, once again.

So, today we stand at the edge of the void, on the precipice of the rupture, daring to hear the divine summons to enter this darkest of dark nights, and to hold on, by faith, to the presence of God as we tumble into what appears as death and nothingness. All the while we are beckoned to keep looking forward, holding God’s hand as God brings us to God and God’s new thing in the world—not an old thing, not a familiar thing, but a new thing. Tonight, we are brought deep into the divine womb to be born again of God by faith (trust) with thanksgiving into the divine light, life, and liberation. Born again as God’s people resurrected from the past and liberated from what was…


[1] Abraham K. Heschel, The Prophets, (New York: JPS, 1962), 209. “To fear God is to be unafraid of man. For God alone is king, power, and promise.”

[2] Heschel, Prophets, 285. “It is impossible to understand the meaning of divine anger without pondering the meaning of divine patience or forbearance. Explicitly and implicitly, the prophets stress that God is patient, long-suffering, or slow to anger…”

[3] Heschel, Prophets, 285. “Patience is one of the thirteen attributes of God,’ yet never in the sense of apathy, of being indifferent. Contrary to their thinking was the idea of a God who submits to the caprice of man, smiling at the hideousness of evil The patience of God means his restraint of justifiable anger.”

[4] Heschel, Prophets, 290. “Anger is always described as a moment, something that happens rather than something that abides. The feeling expressed by the rabbis that even divine anger must not last beyond a minute seems to be implied in the words of the prophets.”

[5] Heschel, Prophets, 290. “Merciful and gracious, rahum ve-hannun…are qualities which are never separable in the Bible from the thought of God.”

[6] Ehud Ben Zvi, “Joel,” The Jewish Study Bible Jewish Publication Society Tanakh Translation, eds. Adele Berlin and Marc Zvi Brettler (Oxford: OUP, 2004), 1166. “As the text leads the readers to sense that human society and culture in Judah are at the brink of obliteration, it asks them to identify with a prophetic voice that calls on them to return to the Lord, to fast and lament. Then the book moves to Judah’s salvation and the rangement of passages dealing with the ideal future, in which the fate of the nations figures prominently.”

[7] Ehud Ben Zvi, “Joel,” 1170. 2.12-17, “On the need to turn back to the Lord, and for a communal lamentation. This must be done before the arrival of the Day of the Lord, which is near or close…otherwise Israel too will be the victim of God’s power.”

[8] Heschel, Prophets, 292fn17. “Anguished by the blows of enemies, Israel was the butt of stinging sneer: ‘Where is the Lord your God?’”

The Paradox of Christian Existence

Psalm 147: 1, 3, 12, 21c Hallelujah! How good it is to sing praises to our God! How pleasant it is to honor God with praise! Abba God heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. God has pleasure in those who fear him, in those who await God’s gracious favor. Hallelujah!

Introduction

When I became Christian, I remember feeling liberated. Really and truly free, living in the light of God’s love for me in Christ that I felt—truly felt—by the power of the Holy Spirit. It was like being in love for the first time, nothing could dampen that sensation of liberation. Everything felt great. Until.

One day I was driving down 1-95, going somewhere to fetch something, and my eye locked on to the speed-limit sign. For the first time (ever?), I felt compelled to check my speed and slow down. When I normally wouldn’t flinch towards 5-10…ish miles over the speed limit, but this time I did flinch, I did care.

I wish I could say that was the only and last time that ever happened. It wasn’t; it kept happening. I started noticing more and more laws. But it wasn’t like I was noticing the laws and that they infringed on my liberties, but that I saw the law doing something bigger than condemning me (how could it? I was free in Christ from the condemnation of the law!). What did I see? The people being protected by these laws. I remember my heart growing heavier; it was no longer just me on those roads or in that place, I was very aware there were others. My liberation in Christ was now tainted with a burden. A burden to give a heck about my neighbor; a burden to resist myself; a burden to love like I was loved by Christ.

Everything felt different, shifted, big, heavy, real. While I knew and felt that my liberation in Christ wasn’t gone, it was now yoked to this burdened-ness. My inner world shifted from levity to serious. Why hadn’t I seen this before? Why am I seeing it now? 1 Corinthians explains this well,

1 Corinthians 9:16-23

For being free/not under restraint of all things, I am brought under subjection to all, so that I might gain more of them.…For the ones under the law [I made myself] as one under the law, not that I myself am under the law, so that I might gain the ones under the law. For the ones who are lawless, [I made myself] as a lawless one, not being lawless of God but subject to Christ, so that I might gain the lawless. I made myself as the [socio-politically] weak[1] for the [socio-politically] weak so that I might gain the [socio-politically] weak. For all people I have become all things, so that I might save some by all means. Now, I do all things through the good news, so that I might partake jointly of it. (1 Cor. 9:19, 20b-23)[2]

How does this explain what I was experiencing all those years ago as a new Christian? Let me show you. First, Paul tells the Corinthians that his boasting is not in his preaching the gospel. The reason why he doesn’t boast is because a constraint is pressed upon him. He doesn’t have a choice, he is compelled to preach the gospel not for vainglory but for the glory of God which imposes itself on him.[3] Because Paul loves Jesus, he is compelled to proclaim Christ crucified and raised to everyone who will listen, to spread the announcing of God’s good tidings for the beloved.

In fact, Paul is so compelled that if he doesn’t preach the gospel it is woe, or better yet, it is agony forhim.[4] Paul elaborates further with a relatively awkward comment about wages. For if I do this entirely by personal choice,[5] then I have my wages/reward; but, if [I do this entirely] unwillingly, then I have been entrusted with stewardship. Only those who are able to choose to do something earn a reward or “wages”; those who must, who cannot do otherwise, are called and sent, summoned and wrapped up in the divine pathos like the prophets of old.[6] Paul is so commissioned that he refuses payment for preaching the gospel; he forgoes his rights to serve his neighbor.[7]

Then Paul declares that he’s free, not under restraint, and delivered from obligation. Um, what? Paul is talking about the paradox of Christian freedom and responsibility. By faith in Christ, Paul is free, under no obligation, having no restraints laid upon; he is wrapped up in God’s love, mercy, grace, and good pleasure. However, in being so wrapped up by this God means that Paul is also taken by the Holy Spirit of God and caused to love those whom and that which God loves. By this divine Spirit of love, Paul is liberated unto God to be in service to his neighbor, God’s beloved. In this way, Paul will forgo his right to his own liberty to put himself in service to his neighbor by means of the “law of love.” He loves because he has first been loved and cannot do otherwise.

Conclusion

In the beginning of his 1520 treatise, The Freedom of a Christian, Martin Luther offers this about Christian existence:

A Christian person is a free lord above everything and subject to no one.
A Christian person is a devoted-peer servant of everything and subject to everyone.[8]

I bring this up not because I’ve been trying to process the full extent of what this paradox means for Christian faith and praxis in the world before God and before humanity. I bring it up because Christian existence is a paradox. It is a paradox of real, true liberation that is gifted in Christ by the love of God and it brings the believer into true and real life, consummated by the power of the Holy Spirit. But, it comes with a burden. Because, to be so wrapped up in God’s gift of love, life, and liberation, enveloped in God’s grace and mercy through Christ and by the power of the Holy Spirit means that I am no longer my own, refused access to the law of autonomy; it necessarily means being for my neighbor, whoever they are, to serve them, to bring them the same love, life, and liberation I have. It means to feel the love of God and feel the love of God for the neighbor. It means to see them as God sees them. It means to feel their pain with them as God so feels their pain through Christ’s identification with the oppressed and lowly.

Beloved, you cannot have freedom without responsibility. You cannot have liberation without burden. To have freedom means to be responsible, to use that freedom to serve others is evidence of your freedom. To have liberation means to be burdened with bringing that same liberation to others. To be loved is to love. To be a Christian and to become as Christ, to follow Christ, is to become as one of these others just as he did. To try to have one half of the paradox and not the other is to remain in captivity—you cannot have just liberation and no burden, freedom without responsibility. As soon as you eliminate either part of Luther’s and Paul’s paradox, you lose everything. Beloved, you have been set free to set others free.


[1] Anthony C. Thiselton, The First Epistle to the Corinthians, NIGTC, eds. I. Howard Marshall and Donald A. Hagner (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000), 705. “…the weak is a designation which derives from how ‘the strong’ perceive the social relationship, in addition to denoting an objective social contrast between the influential and the vulnerable In this context the weak may mean those whose options for life and conduct were severely restricted because of their dependence on the wishes of patrons, employers, or slave owners.”

[2] Translation mine unless otherwise noted.

[3] Thiselton, 1 Corinthians, 695. “Paul has explained that he can glory of boast only where the principle of ‘freely you received, freely give’ operates, and when a renunciation of ‘rights’ is entirely voluntary. This cannot apply in this particular case to the act of preaching alone or to proclamation itself, for, like Jeremiah, in every account of his call Paul insists that God’s compulsion presses upon him.”

[4] Thiselton, 1 Corinthians, 696. Woe to me is more about pain, “misfortune, trouble…or agony for me. It is agony if Paul tries to escape from the constraints and commission which the love and grace of ‘the hound of heaven’ presses upon him.”

[5] Thiselton, 1 Corinthians, 696. ἑκών “entirely by personal choice” because it is position against compulsion.

[6] Thiselton, 1 Corinthians, 696. “Hence Paul makes a logical point that only acts carried out from self-motivation or self-initiative belong to the logical order of ‘reward’; and thereby his own irresistible commission excludes such logic.”

[7] Thiselton, 1 Corinthians, 697. v. 18 “This verse explicates the point just made above. Only by gratuitously proclaiming the gospel gratis can Paul go beyond the preaching which God has pressed upon him as an inescapable, not voluntary, task, and thereby go ‘the second mile.’ To do this, however, he must forego a right, as he pleads with ‘the strong’ among his readers to do.”

[8] WA 7:21; LW 31:344. Translation mine.

Shut Up and Come Out of Them!

Psalm 111:1-3  Hallelujah! I will give thanks to God with my whole heart, in the assembly of the upright, in the congregation. Great are the deeds of God! they are studied by all who delight in them. God’s work is full of majesty and splendor, and righteousness endures for ever.

Introduction

When you think about an encounter with Jesus, what do you think of first? You might think of wisdom. For surely encountering Jesus would be bringing you face to face with the wisdom of the ages. Jesus is a true teacher, one who can enlighten hearts and open minds. Maybe you’d think of healing. This would also make sense; there are so many stories in the Gospels about Jesus healing people, adults and children, living and dead. So, maybe you’d think of possibility… for truly this one is the Son of God and with God all things are possible. Maybe, being really good church school students, you would think of grace, mercy, love, and forgiveness. These, too, would be spot on; many stories about these very things confront us on every page of the Second Testament. Some of you might think about kindness, gentleness, and comfort; again, good thoughts and biblically solid. Maybe some of you—the stout hearted, the tell-me-like-it-is folx—would think about the way Jesus exposes us, like a bright light shining into the marrow of our bones type of exposure, yet a safe type of exposure, an exposure into life and love.

To all of these I say YES! An encounter with Jesus would carry all of these things. But we are still missing one more, the one that wraps up all of these: Liberation.

To encounter Christ in all of these ways—in wisdom, healing, possibility, grace, mercy, love, forgiveness, kindness, gentleness, comfort, and exposure—is to encounter Christ as the liberator, the one who sets captives free. Christ brings liberation to the people who are stuck, not only spiritually stuck but physically stuck. Christ comes to identify with humanity stuck in its plight and to set them (all!) free from those things that torment and haunt, oppress and possess.

Mark 1:21-28

And then at once there was a person with an unclean spirit in the synagogue crying out, “Go away! You leave us alone, Jesus of Nazareth![1] Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God!” And Jesus admonished the unclean spirit saying, “Shut up and come out of him!” And then after convulsing the man, the unclean spirit called out in a great voice and came out of him (Mark 1:23-26).[2]

Mark uses a story about Jesus’s teaching in the synagogue to demonstrate the depth of his divine power and authority. Mark’s use of ἐξουσία is potent here. This was a word normally used of kings and God is being applied to Jesus. He has authority in his teaching and in his deeds. [3] Mark moves the story from the shore of the sea of Galilee (Mk. 14-20) to Capernaum (v.21). Mark’s normal fast pace is heightened: as soon as they entered Capernaum, Jesus immediately taught in the synagogue on the sabbath.[4] Jesus didn’t force himself to the front to teach, he was invited to do so; this reinforces that Jesus was known and respected for his authority to interpret the scriptures and teach the people of God.[5] As Jesus teaches, the crowd was astonished/amazed regarding his teaching, for he was teaching them as having authority and not the authority of the scribes. Mark lets his audience know that not only does Jesus have authority to teach, his teaching exceeds that of the scribes; this truly is the Son of God (1:1).[6]

Then, in the midst of it all, the dramatic focus shifts[7] from Jesus to a person with an unclean spirit who enters the synagogue crying out and saying, “Go away! You leave us alone, Jesus of Nazareth![8] Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God!” (vv.23-24). It’s worth pointing out that a person with an unclean spirit (being ritually impure) was not to be in the sacred space of the synagogue.[9] And this, too, is worth pointing out that they make themselves the center of attention by yelling… at Jesus; not that this person is yelling, but the unclean spirit(s) inside them are yelling at Jesus because they recognize who Jesus is (as they always do).[10] Jesus—the ultimate non-anxious presence—responds with authority to the unclean spirit and admonished it saying, “Shut up[11] and come out of them!” With this type of divine command, the unclean spirit has no choice but to obey this superior spiritual power[12] and leave; however, not without first yelling in a loud voice and then convulsing the person as it leaves. The crowd was already astonished at his teaching, and now with this exorcism, they were amazed, almost terrified at Jesus’s ἐξουσία to liberate this person from such oppression. The people turn to themselves and begin wondering, what is this new teaching according to authority and commanding unclean spirits, and they obey him?! This new teaching is about profound liberation for the oppressed, the burdened, the lowly, the possessed, the ones who don’t belong in the synagogue, and the unclean. This is the new thing that God is doing in the world among God’s people: authority to teach and authority to liberate as one divine activity. Surely, the truth will set you free. And this freedom, if taken seriously, will provoke to anger everyone who is in power. What happens to the system if it is undone from the bottom? Even the top falls.

Conclusion

Beloved, in your encounter with God in Christ by faith you… you are liberated, inwardly and outwardly. When we go about conformed to the image of who we should be according to the world, we are no better than the unclean spirit storming into sacred places, hooting and hollering. We must dare to be fully “exorcised” of whatever vision we have of ourselves that is tied to things that are not of God, we must dare to (fully) step into the liberative encounter with God by faith in Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit and be ushered into our deliverance into and unto divine life and light. Mark is desperate to bring his readers, you, to the feet of this Jesus who sets the captives free, releases the bondages and fetters, and commands unclean spirits to be shut up and be gone so that the reader will be liberated into the world to participate in this great mission of the revolution of divine love in the world, to assist the divine Spirit seeking and searching for the beloved, bringing lightness and life out of the depth of darkness and death.

I’ll close with this quote from Dorothee Sölle talking about “renewed praxis” for those who encounter God in faith,

What the theologian should learn here is to dream and to hope. Our imagination has been freed from original sinful bondages, and we are empowered to imagine alternative institutions. We become agents of change. Prayer and action become our doing. The literary form is now the creative envisioning. We find new language. Only this last step discloses the text and makes us not only into readers but into ‘writers’ of the Bible. We say to each other ‘take up your bed and walk,’ which is a necessary step in any liberation theology.[13]


[1] France, Mark, 103. v. 24 “τί ἡμῖν καὶ σοί; is an OT formula of disassociation…When addressed to an actual or potential aggressor it has the force of ‘Go away and leave me alone’… The demon assumes, without any word yet from Jesus, that his mission but be ἀπολέσαι ἡμᾶς; there is instant recognition that they are on opposite sides.”

[2] Translation mine unless otherwise noted

[3] William C. Placher, Mark, Belief: A Theological Commentary on the Bible, eds Amy Plantinga Pauw and William C. Placher. (Louisville: WJK, 2010), 37. “Twice in a few verses observers remark that he has authority. Exousia, the word for ‘authority,’ was often applied to kings and especially associated with what God would have when his reign came. This section mentions no opposition, but there are hints of things to come. He has authority, not like the scribes. His fame begins to spread.”

[4] R. T. France, The Gospel of Mark: A Commentary on the Greek Text, NIGTC, eds. I. Howard Marshall and Donald A. Hagner (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002), 101.

[5] France, Mark, 101. “Mark’s καὶ εὐθὺς τοῖς σάββασιν ἐδίδασκεν might suggest that this unknown man of Nazareth took the initiative in imposing himself on the congregation, but the right to teach in the synagogue was controlled by its leaders (Acts 13:15), and the fact that Jesus was invited or allowed to do so suggests that, despite the orle of this pericope in Mark’s narrative as Jesus’ first public appearance, he had already been active in the area long enough to be known and respected.”

[6] France, Mark, 102. Stunned/amazed ἐκπλήσσομαι [these types of words] “…indicate the recognition of something out of the ordinary, and keep the reader aware of the unprecedented ἐξουσία of Jesus, and of the surprising and even shocking nature of some of the things he said.”

[7] France, Mark, 103. v. 23 “καὶ εὐθύς here serves to introduce a specific dramatic event within the more general scene set up in vv. 21-22.”

[8] France, Mark, 103. v. 24 “τί ἡμῖν καὶ σοί; is an OT formula of disassociation…When addressed to an actual or potential aggressor it has the force of ‘Go away and leave me alone’… The demon assumes, without any word yet from Jesus, that his mission but be ἀπολέσαι ἡμᾶς; there is instant recognition that they are on opposite sides.”

[9] Placher, Mark, 37. “A man with an unclean sprit did not belong in a synagogue. He was ritually unclean, and this was a sacred space.”

[10] Placher, Mark, 37. “…he promptly disrupts things by yelling his head off. The spirit or spirits within him recognize Jesus as ‘the Holy One of God.’… Evil spirits never have any problem knowing who Jesus is…”

[11] Placher, Mark, 38. “English translations usually water down the blunt forcefulness of Jesus’ response: ‘Shut up’ or ‘Muzzle it’ and ‘Get out.’ The evil spirit(s) spoke truly enough, and Jesus’ insistence on secrecy about this identity is a theme in Mark…”

[12] France, Mark, 104. Son of God “Here it serves…to convey the demon’s awareness that he has come up against a superior spiritual power. If it is not yet a direct ascription to Jesus of the title ὀ υἰὸς τοῦ θεοῦ, it suitably prepares the reader for its use in 3:11; 5;7.” And, ἐπιτιμάω “In Mark the verb is used for Jesus’ authoritative silencing of unwelcome human utterance in 8:30, 33, and, strikingly, with reference to the natural elements…in 4:39…ἐπετίμησεν here therefore describes the effective command expressed in the direct speech which follows … rather than representing a separate element in the encounter,” 104-105

[13] Dorothe Sölle, On Earth as In Heaven: A Liberation Spirituality of Sharing, trans. Marc Batko (Louisville: WJK, 1993), xi.

The Divine Whisper: “Beloved”

Psalm 62:6-8 For God alone my soul in silence waits; truly, my hope is in God. Abba God alone is my rock and my salvation, my stronghold, so that I shall not be shaken. In God is my safety and my honor; God is my strong rock and my refuge.

Introduction

There are voices that will turn your head no matter where you are, no matter how old you are, and no matter how long it’s been since you heard that voice. You hear it, you know it, and you look in its direction eager to see the one who spoke. What makes your head turn and your body fill with warmth, and turn? Love. A voice that caused fear would make you stop for sure, but not in the same way. You wouldn’t turn with eagerness but freeze out of fright or send you running to hide. But the voice of Love is different. Even if this voice were to be frustrated with you, there would be the unyielding synthesis with love that would soothingly resonate with our nervous systems reminding us—even here and now—we are safe with this one who speaks.

The one who bore you into the world can have the voice loaded with this substance of love. We all know the voice of this one who carried us, whose voice was the auditory backdrop as we came into existence. The voice of the children we bear into the world can also carry this substance of love. No matter how many changes they go through, how deep their voices get, or how infrequently you hear them as they drift into their own adult lives, you know it—in the cacophony of the crowd, you can locate it. Their mature voices carrying those same idiosyncrasies and inflections they had when they were no higher than your knee.

Apart from these two specific relationships, others participate in this special distinction of being a voice that stops you where you are—no matter when and no matter what. Dear friends spanning eras of life and lovers here with you or from a different era can speak to you now and you would feel the weight of the substance of love that is the marrow of their words. Humans know when they are loved by the voice of love targeting their heart, mind, soul, and body. It’s to love that our ears harken and our head turns, it’s love that sends our feet to follow this voice.

Mark 1:14-20

And then when Jesus was passing by the sea of Galilee he saw Simon and Andrew the brother of Simon casting nets in the sea, for they were fishing. And he said to them, “Come behind me, and I will make you become fishers of people!” And Immediately, leaving their nets they followed him. (Mark 1:16-18)[1]

Mark begins this story telling us that after John was handed over (by some unnamed person), Jesus went into Galilee proclaiming the good news of God and saying, “The time has been completed and the kingdom of God has come near; repent and believe in the good news,” (vv. 14-15). What John started, Jesus took up[2] and ushered in a new era of fulfillment of God’s promises made known in the exhortations to “change the inner person”/repent and believe the good news of God (v. 15).[3] It is here, amid proclaiming God’s good news and the inauguration of a new era, according to Mark, where Jesus begins his public activity.[4]

And how does Jesus inaugurate this public activity? Neither with pomp and circumstance nor with displays of power and might but with meager, human words summoning humble people out from the fringes unto the light of God.[5] From the edge of the sea of Galilee and from a dingy floating in water, Jesus summoned the lowly into the majesty of the liberating presence of God. And what happens when Jesus called out, “Come behind me!”? Those who were called go. There’s no time lag between the call and the response of the (now) disciples; there was no arguing, waffling, hemming and hawing…they just went (immediately!).[6] They heard Jesus summon them, and they dropped their nets and followed after him without any delay. They obey the call of God for no other reason than just because; they simply follow.[7]

As simple as Jesus’s summons, so was the disciples’ response. No grand gestures, no cleaning up, no getting right with God first…they heard and they went. All four summoned fishermen—Simon/Peter,[8] Andrew, Jacob, and John—radically departed what they knew, what was comfortable, and what was familiar to follow Jesus and receive a brand-new beginning filled with what would become uncomfortable, unknown, and strange.[9] In following when Jesus called, they were guided into a new beginning that started and will end with love. When Jesus called these humble men, Love beckoned them into the light of God by the divine voice of Love, which is none other than the divine Spirit, hovering over the deep eagerly seeking and summoning the beloved out of the deep.

Conclusion

I don’t know about you, but this story gets me every time I read it. I mean, they just followed!?!? Isn’t that beyond comprehension. I’m left with a lurking question: would I go? Would I follow this man who summoned me to come follow him? Suspending for a moment my 21st century mind, my “stranger danger,” my engrained fear of sinister, windowless vans and the large quantities of candy harbored behind those doors, would I follow Jesus? Would I give up everything and follow after this one proclaiming the kingdom of God come? Would I, could I recognize the voice of divine love summoning me out of the chaos and the deep?

To be a disciple of Christ starts with hearing, hearing the divine summons, the divine call of God to you, Jesus calling your name, the Spirit luring your heart toward this one who is the “Son of God” (Mark 1:1). To be a disciple of Christ is to hear and (immediately) follow, even if it means leaving everything behind that once defined you but no longer can because you’ve heard God’s voice in Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit,[10] because you’ve heard the voice of love and can never unhear it.

Beloved, God calls you—day and night—summoning you unto God’s self, eager to bathe you in the love filling that loving, divine voice echoing throughout the halls of time, calling for you. I pray you hear the call of God in Christ, and that you drop your nets and follow this voice of love. For here, in this love is life and light, here is God, and here is your rest and comfort. No longer striving in the way of the world, desperate to fill an empty void to validate yourself or feel loved, here in the summons and in following you find the entirety of God, the very one who spoke the cosmos into existence and who now speaks to you, whispering to every fiber of your being: Beloved.


[1] Translation mine unless otherwise noted.

[2] R. T. France, The Gospel of Mark: A Commentary on the Greek Text, NIGTC, eds. I. Howard Marshall and Donald A. Hagner (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002), 90. “The role of the forerunner is over; the time of fulfillment has come.”

[3] France, Mark, 93. “With the beginning of Jesus’ ministry, therefore, a new era of fulfillment has begun, and it calls for response from God’s people. That response is summed up in the twin imperatives μετανοῖτε καὶ πιστεύετε.”

[4] William C. Placher, Mark, Belief: A Theological Commentary on the Bible, eds Amy Plantinga Pauw and William C. Placher. (Louisville: WJK, 2010), 31.

[5] France, Mark, 94. “The kingdom of God comes not with fanfare but trough the gradual gathering of a group of insignificant people in an unnoticed corner of provincial Galilee.”

[6] Placer, Mark, 36. “No discussion or explanation, no packing, no good-byes to family and friends.”

[7] Placer, Mark, 36. “Because it is Jesus who calls, they obey. Nor do they understand any particular content to that obedience other than simply following….”

[8] France, Mark, 95. “Mark will consistently refer to the first named disciple as Σίμων until he formally introduces the name Πέτρος as given to him by Jesus (3:16); thereafter he will consistently use Πέτρος…”

[9] France, Mark, 98. “The use of ἀπέρχομαι, rather than the simple ἕρχομαι as in 8:34, adds to the sense of radical departure and a new beginning.”

[10] Placer, Mark, 35. “John’s arrest is a signal: after the prologue the director is opening the curtain on the first scene.” Mathetes, “It was a rare enough word that Mark’s first readers/listeners would have had to learn its meaning by what followed. Being a disciple of Jesus, it emerges, means receiving his call, physically following him (and thereby giving up job, home, and normal ties to family), and risking the suffering that may ensue.”