Psalm 116: 1,10 I love Abba God, because Abba God has heard the voice of my supplication, because Abba God has inclined Abba God’s ear to me whenever I called upon Abba God. How shall I repay Abba God for all the good things Abba God has done for me?
Introduction
Our journey through Lent to Holy Week has brought us to the reality of our situation. We have seen that we’re prone to forsake and give up following the way of the reign of God; we have seen that we’re prone to tromp and tread on the land, on our neighbor, on God, and on ourselves; we have seen that we’re eager to estrange ourselves and become strangers to God, thus to our neighbor, thus to ourselves. While we would love for the exposure of Lent to be over, our exposure is, only now, getting personal.
Maundy Thursday isn’t really about “foot washing” or about finding ways to make yourselves smaller and more servant-like to your neighbor—even though such acts are exposing and can bring a certain (healthy) amount of humility. Rather, Maundy Thursday is about Peter being exposed for what he doesn’t understand about who Jesus is and what his mission on earth is all about. And, thus—if it’s about Peter being exposed—it’s about us being exposed for not really getting what Jesus is truly up to. While we claim all year to know what God’s mission is in Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit, we don’t really know and we often forget what it is once we’re told, and we conflate it and force it to conform with our own desires, and (then) walk away from it completely. Maundy Thursday is designed to drive some of those final and big nails into our coffin of exposure. As we gaze upon Christ in the gospel story, watch him remove his clothes and don only a wrap around his waist and begin to wash the feet of his disciples, we should feel the urge building up to blurt out, with Peter, “‘You will never wash my feet!’” A simple statement meant for respect yet exposing how much we really don’t understand what is happening or why Christ is here. On Maundy Thursday, our judgment is called to account for itself, and it will be found lacking.
We are prone to bad judgment because we are prone to wander from our God of love.
Exodus 12:1-14
Here in our First Testament passage from the book of Exodus, Moses and Aaron receive the instructions for the Passover event. The Passover marks the beginning of a new era for Israel. While the exodus event through the Sea of Reeds is the tangible component of Israel’s promised liberation, it is the meal that marks the beginning of the new era defined by redemption. [1] It is this Passover event that is, for Israel, the break in time and space between what was and what will be. Their liberation begins in believing God, trusting God’s word—faith manifesting in action; this is why the Passover event of liberation becomes the mark of a new year for Israel and will always be a mark of a new year: each new year will solicit a new faith to enter the dusk setting on yesterday and dawn rising on tomorrow.[2]
The response of Israel built on faith in God’s trustworthiness and truthfulness is to prepare, eat, and perform a meal in a specific way. God informs Moses and Aaron that on the tenth day of the month all of Israel is to take an unblemished, one year-old, male lamb (one per household or one per a couple of small households), and on the fourteenth day they must slaughter their lambs at twilight. The blood from this sacrifice is to be painted onto the doorposts and lintels of the households where the Passover lamb must be eaten. God then gives very specific instructions regarding the eating of the lamb and the Passover meal:
“They shall eat the lamb that same night; they shall eat it roasted over the fire with unleavened bread and bitter herbs. Do not eat any of it raw or boiled in water, but roasted over the fire, with its head, legs, and inner organs. You shall let none of it remain until the morning; anything that remains until the morning you shall burn. This is how you shall eat it: your loins girded, your sandals on your feet, and your staff in your hand; and you shall eat it hurriedly.” (Ex. 12:8-11)
This isn’t any other meal; it’s a meal that’s refusing enjoyment, merriment, and lingering. Every part of this meal must take place with intention and presence; it’s to be done in haste as if the threat of death looms on the boundary of the meal—because it does loom.[3] “The blood shall be a sign for you on the houses where you live: when I see the blood, I will pass over you, and no plague shall destroy you when I strike the land of Egypt,” (v.13). They will eat this meal, putting all their faith in God and that God is faithful to God’s promises that those who follow what has been told to Aaron and Moses will be exempted from this final curse of the passing over of God and the execution of divine judgment on all the firstborns of the land.[4]
The Israelites must suspend their own judgment. They must step into the void from where God beckons them and faith lures them. They must not pause and consider what is common sense or what aligns with what they know to be good and right. In this moment, human judgment comes under attack by the unstated, whom do you love? The Israelites, individually and as a community had to give their answer. That night, as the angel of death swept over Egypt striking down all the firstborn of the land, divine judgment was executed; that night as families woke up human judgment received its verdict.
Conclusion
Would you? Put yourselves in Israel’s shoes. Would you kill the lamb, paint its blood on your door frames, and eat that meal in haste? Would you risk the life of your child, the life of your sibling, the your own life to appease what made the most sense to you? While we read this as a myth, it’s still a myth with a purpose to expose us. The question comes to us through these Ancient Israelites stuck in captivity and oppression. Would each of us, would we as a community, be able to see the depth at which God is doing a new thing in our lives to liberate us from captivity? Would we be able to trust that God is doing this thing and that God is truthful and trustworthy and will make good on God’s promises? Would we be able to suspend our judgment long enough to let God be God?
I’m neither advocating for “blind” and “uninformed” faith no affirming that voice in your head you think may God’s Spirit telling you to do something a bit uncharacteristic (always have those ideas checked by scripture and teaching!). What I am advocating for is this: are we able to suspend our human informed judgment long enough to see when God is doing something new in the world even when it contradicts our conception of what should be done in the world? Are we able to suspend what we think is right and good long enough to see when God is working a new thing for the wellbeing of our neighbor, which ends up being (ultimately) for our own wellbeing? Are we able to unplug our eyes and ears from what we have grown accustomed to seeing and hearing long enough to see and hear when God is calling us into liberation, into love, and into life and away from captivity, away from indifference, and away from death? Would we be able to learn something new about God’s divine mission in the world so to echo Peter’s eager and desperate response to Jesus, Wash not only my feet but my whole body, inside and out!? Would you be able to suspend your judgment long enough to let God be God?
The bad news is that we, as fleshy meat creatures prone to wander, will deliver our answer; the good news is that God knows this and comes to do something about it.
[1] Jeffrey H. Tigay, “Exodus,” The Jewish Study Bible Jewish Publication Society Tanakh Translation, eds. Adele Berlin and Marc Zvi Brettler (Oxford: OUP, 2004), 125. “Preparations for the exodus” “Israel is to prepare for the coming redemption with a sacrificial banquet while the final plague is occurring and is to commemorate the event in the future on its anniversary by eating unleavened bread for a week and reenacting the banquet. This banquet became the prototype of the postbiblical Seder, the festive meal at which the exodus story is retold and expounded each year to this day on the holiday of Pesah (Passover), as explained below.”
[2] Tigay, “Exodus,” 125. “Since the exodus will be commemorated on its anniversary every year…the preparatory instructions begin with the calendar. Henceforth the year will commence with the month of the exodus, and months will be referred to by ordinal numbers rather than names….Since the number will mean essentially ‘in the Xth month since we gained freedom,’ every reference to a month will commemorate the redemption.”
[3] Tigay, “Exodus,” 126. “The Israelites are to eat while prepared to leave on a moment’s notice.”
[4] Tigay, “Exodus,” 126. “In most European languages, it is also the name of Easter (as in French ‘Paques’). The translation ‘passover’ (and hence the English name of the holiday) is probably incorrect. The alternativity translation ‘protective offering’ is more likely…”
Psalm 126:6-7 Those who sowed with tears will reap with songs of joy. Those who go out weeping, carrying the seed, will come again with joy, shouldering their sheaves.
Introduction
In continuing our Lenten theme, “Prone to wander,” let’s look at verse two of the hymn, “Come Thou Fount,”
Here I raise my Ebenezer; hither by thy help I’m come; and I hope, by thy good pleasure, safely to arrive at home. Jesus sought me when a stranger, wandering from the fold of God; he, to rescue me from danger, interposed his precious blood. [1]
In this season of long, sober, and honest self-reflection, we must come to terms with what verse two is suggesting: our voluntary estrangement from God, from our neighbor, and from ourselves. This isn’t a simple and innocent wandering away because we’re just absent minded or aloof. There’s no space here for that “oopsies, my bad” as we lift our head and realize, we have no idea where we are. There’s no way we can claim, “not guilty.” We are guilty. We’ve estranged ourselves from God, from our neighbor, from the created world because we’ve prioritized me and mine (my comfortableness, my pleasure, my rights, my power, my privilege, my whatever) over and against what might be better for bringing God glory, health to the earth, well-being to my neighbor, and (ultimately) wholeness to myself.
To estrange ourselves is to put on a “stranger” status. In being a stranger toward God, toward our neighbor, toward the earth, and toward ourselves we act as if we are not a part of God, as if we are not a part of a society filled with other human beings, as if we’re not a part of a created realm of flora and fauna that has an equably respectable existence of its own right, as if we’re not a part of ourselves but souls stuck in flesh suits. What verse two is saying is that we elect, we choose, we opt for this “stranger” status even as we point fingers and declare other people to be strangers worthy of expulsion. In other words, and to be blunt about it, we aren’t seeking God and God’s love, life, and liberation. Rather, we’re actively seeking our demise: building up silos of the indifference, death, and captivity of the kingdom of humanity that will only lead to our destruction. We need intervention, we need help; we’re not as capable as we like to think we are.
We are prone to become strangers and to estrange ourselves because we are prone to wander from our God of love.
Isaiah 43:16-21
Zooming out a bit, chapter 43 is a great litany of personal statements about God and God’s activity in the world on behalf of Israel. Israel is exhorted, at the beginning, not to fear because God is with them, “Do not fear, for I am with you; I will bring your offspring from the east, and from the west I will gather you; I will say to the north, ‘Give them up,’ and to the south, ‘Do not withhold; bring my sons from far away and my daughters from the end of the earth—everyone who is called by my name, whom I created for my glory, whom I formed and made,’ (vv. 5-7). Also, Israel is to come to terms with the reality that they have wandered away, forgotten this God whom they are not to fear who is with them. Their love has grown cool, and they’ve estranged themselves from this God, “Yet you did not call upon me, O Jacob; but you have been weary of me, O Israel! You have not brought me your sheep for burnt offerings or honored me with your sacrifices. I have not burdened you with offerings or wearied you with frankincense. You have not bought me sweet cane with money or satisfied me with the fat of your sacrifices. Rather, you have burdened me with your sins; you have wearied me with your iniquities,” (vv. 22-24). By the hand of a talented seamstress, a subtle thread is sown throughout the chapter holding it all in place: the image of a courtroom. If Israel so desires, they can bring God to court, if they so wish. But, Israel should be warned, it won’t go very well: both the nations will affirm (vv. 8-10) and Israel will be found guilty (vv. 25-28) in light of God’s faithfulness to God’s beloved and (not shoved off or pushed away but) restored perfectly.[2]
If we were to break chapter 43 into quarters, our portion is the third quarter and the second time the prophet exhorts Israel to remember who this God is with whom they are in relationship.[3] Isaiah says, “Thus says the Lord, who makes a way in the sea, a path in the mighty waters, who brings out chariot and horse, army and warrior; they lie down; they cannot rise; they are extinguished, quenched like a wick…” (vv. 16-17). For Isaiah, this “the Lord” of “Thus says the Lord” is none other than the Great Liberator of the people[4] and, therefore, must be listened to and heeded. By recalling the liberation of Israel from Egypt, Isaiah wants Israel to remember what is known as the greatest event of liberation in their history. But then God, through Isaiah, says this, “Do not remember the former things or consider the things of old. I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth; do you not perceive it?” (vv. 18-19). In other words, according to the flow of thought offered here, Isaiah brings to Israel’s mind the greatest event of liberation in their history and then tells them that the liberation from Babylon that is to come will be something even bigger and better.[5] Israel, while having an eye to the past, must turn their heads forward and dare to believe through an unknown future that not only will God act again as God did but that God will do so in a new way.[6]
This “new way” will be so great that it is compared to a “way” in the wilderness and a “river” in the desert, making passage easy through challenging, strenuous, and deadly environments. So, the new thing will be big and grand, it’ll be easy (an established path in the wilderness) and refreshing (accessible water in the desert), but it will also solicit praise from creation. God promises through Isaiah, “The wild animals will honor me, the jackals and the ostriches, for I give water in the wilderness, rivers in the desert, to give drink to my chosen people…” (v. 20). As God prepares a way and provides for Israel, the “wild animals” will honor God because of God’s deeds. And all this is oriented toward inciting Israel to praise God, “…the people whom I formed for myself so that they might declare my praise,” (v. 21). What is to come will eliminate Israel’s self-induced and self-destructive estrangement; the children of Israel, God’s beloved, will no longer be strangers to God but brought through chaos, tumult, and the threat of death into order, peace, and a very real and thriving life in and with God. All that Israel has known and does know will be shattered and rendered void in what God is going to do.[7] God will come to God’s estranged beloved and reorient them to God’s self and they will have love, life, and liberation to the fullest.
Conclusion
Unlike previous weeks, this passage from Isaiah is completely about Israel estranging itself from God. In fact, it’s about God making Isarel very aware of how far they have (in fact) strayed from God and voluntarily postured themselves as strangers toward God. Isaiah has proven the point through divine inspiration that Israel is prone to wander and will choose to do so when given the leash to do so. And this is why these words of Isaiah’s are presented to us during Lent. We are brought into the story to witness to the fact that the ones whom God liberated from Egypt have estranged themselves from this same loving, life-giving, and liberating God. I say this not only because Isaiah has said it; I say this because all the other prophets following Isaiah will also say it. They will highlight that Israel—no matter what type of liberation is experienced—will (voluntarily) turn, wander, and estrange themselves from God. And in estranging themselves from God, Israel will estrange themselves from their neighbor, the surrounding nations, and in this they will also forsake the calling they have to be a conduit for divine blessing to the nations—to be estranged from God is to close the door on their divinely given mission to be the ones who correct the wrongs in the world. In becoming estranged from God, their mission, and their neighbor, they will turn in on themselves and becomes estranged from who they are and are intended to be. Israel will forget God is the source of their identity and create their own identity by their own means, completely disconnected from God and their neighbor, and they will propel themselves into manifold danger. Being convinced of their own power, they will credit their liberation to themselves. Isaiah knows this, God knows this.
So it is with us. And as we go through this fifth week of lent, let us consider our times of our own voluntary estrangement from God, from our neighbor, from the earth, from our divinely given mission in the world that is to bring glory to God and well-being to the neighbor. In our estrangement from our God, our neighbor, our earth, and our mission, let us consider how we’ve become estranged from ourselves, not knowing who we are, whose we are, or for what we were created. As wonderful and miraculous as we are, we are fleshy, meat creatures prone to wander. The good news is, God knows this and comes to do something about it.
[2] Benjamin D. Sommer, “Isaiah,” The Jewish Study Bible Jewish Publication Society Tanakh Translation, eds. Adele Berlin and Marc Zvi Brettler (Oxford: OUP, 2004), 871. “…God recalls the sins of the Israelites (especially of the exiles’ ancestors), focusing on their failure to conduct proper sacrifices. The passage underscores the justice of their punishment and hence emphasizes that God is neither uncaring toward Israel nor too weak to save it. Once the punishment has been completed, there is no impediment to Israel’s restoration.”
[3] Brevard S. Childs, Isaiah: A Commentary, The Old Testament Library (Louisville: WJK, 2001), 336. “The promises of the passage are divided into two parts, both introduced by a messenger formula. In the first, the emphasis falls on the merciful intervention of God for Israel’s sake to shatter Babylon’s power and to free the prisoners…In the second, there is a conscious allusion to the former deliverance from the captivity of Egypt…Of course, this event had become for Israel the example par excellence of God’s great redemptive power, which was continually celebrated in song and worship from its inception.”
[4] Sommer, “Isaiah,” 871. vv. 16-17 “A reference to the parting of the Reed Sea and the defeat of Pharaoh’s army there.”
[5] Sommer, “Isaiah,”871. “Long ago God took Israel out of slavery and defeated the mighty Egyptians. The liberation from Babylonian exile will prove even more impressive than the exodus from Egypt.”
[6] Childs, Isaiah, 337. “The rhetorical point of v. 18 is the contrast between the old and the new things. The coming salvation will completely transcend any experience of the past. The way in the wilderness will climax in the honoring of God not only by the wild beasts, but above all by his chosen people who declare his praise.”
[7] Childs, Isaiah, 337. “In spite of a broken text, the author interpret the Isaianic text as pointing to an eschatological new creation that shatters the old order.”
Psalm 63:7-8 For you, Abba God, have been my helper, and under the shadow of your wings I will rejoice. My soul clings to you; your right hand holds me fast.
Introduction
I mentioned recently that, “Come Thou Fount” is not only one of my favorite hymns but is the inspiration for my messages through out Lent. As our sign out front says: “Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it; Prone to leave the God I love.” While the third verse is my absolute favorite, the other two are remarkable. For this week, the first verse aligns well with our First Testament passage.
Come thou fount of every blessing, tune my heart to sing thy grace! Streams of mercy never ceasing, call for songs of loudest praise. Teach me some melodious sonnet, sung by flaming tongues above. Praise the mount! Oh, fix me on it, mount of God’s unchanging love.[1]
Remember that the season of Lent is about taking a deep, long, hard look in the mirror. The reality is, while we may not think about it often, we are prone to wonder from God. And by “we” I mean *all of us*–you, me, and whoever is sitting next to you. And this verse exposes us in a very subtle yet real way. The verse weds the concept of teaching through singing and music making with being fixed on God’s mountain. The solicitation of the fount of every blessing—God—is the source of our blessing, of our singing, and the ground of our sure foundation. As in, as our feet are anchored in and on the “mount” of God’s unconditional, never stopping, always and forever love, we find ourselves on terra firma. God’s love for us is the solid ground from which our life, love, and liberation spring eternal; from this place, we should not wander.
But we do. Sometimes we wander because we forget that where we stand and on what we stand matters. Forgetting that we stand in and on the firm foundation of the proclamation of the gospel of Jesus Christ, leads us to treat the very ground under our feet—the ground from which springs our very sustenance (food, shelter, clothing)—as if it has no essence of its own and is *only* there to be an object in our grand schemes to acquire power, prestige, and privilege, mere product for our grist mills. In forgetting where and on what we stand, we find ourselves tromping about and treading all over other people (our neighbors, the beloved of God), devaluing their alterity, their identity, their irreplaceable presence, demanding that they look and act more like the dominant group. When we forget that the mount on which we are fixed is the mountain of God, we desecrate sacred soil, leaving our shoes on as we step wherever and on whomever we need and want.
We are prone to tromp and tread about because we are prone to wander from our God of love.
Exodus 3:1-15
Moses was keeping the flock of his father-in-law Jethro, the priest of Midian; he led his flock beyond the wilderness, and came to Horeb, the mountain of God. There the angel of God appeared to him in a flame of fire out of a bush; he looked, and the bush was blazing, yet it was not consumed. Then Moses said, “I must turn aside and look at this great sight, and see why the bush is not burned up.” When God saw that he had turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, “Moses, Moses!” And he said, “Here I am.” Then God said, “Come no closer! Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.”
The First Testament text is from Exodus and highlights God’s calling of Moses. An interesting story in its own right; nothing beats a spontaneously combusting bush from which God’s voice beckons a person minding their own business. In my research, I discovered that this story is not a smooth, cohesive unit. Rather, it’s a merger from two different sources according to the Hebrew words—there’s different names for God and Pharoah, textual redundancies, and a textual intrusion.[2] I know that sounds like mundane, academic chatter; yet, knowing this actually helps the goal of this sermon. This splicing together of the text indicates that there’s an important theme being preserved and emphasized: God’s self-identification to Moses, Moses collision with God, and Moses’s subsequent sending by God.[3] From this moment on, the ground under Moses’s feet is going to be the mount of God’s unchanging love for God’s beloved, the people of God whom Moses represents and to whom Moses will (soon!) represent God. For it is there on Horeb—“the mountain of God”—where Moses comes face to face (flame?) with God on sacred, holy land.[4]
The text tells us that as Moses is on Horeb, he notices a bush that’s burning. This isn’t just any spontaneously combusting flora; it’s God’s presence,[5] and it’s intentionally trying to get Moses’s attention.[6] As the bush burns and doesn’t burn up, Moses is curious and comes closer. Then the text tells us that this is part of the reason for the flame: to get Moses’s attention—not just anyone but this one, the son-in-law of Jethro, the one called Moses. So, the bush calls out to Moses using his name twice. (The double use being an affectionate calling.) After Moses responds to the divine voice coming from the bush, God stops Moses from coming any closer and commands him to take off his shoes. Why? Because there are some places that are holy and sacred where one must walk carefully and tenderly; places where one must come and enter humbly and vulnerably. Everyone walks a bit different with shoes on, faster and with less concern for where they place their feet. But as soon as shoes come off, we walk slowly and with more concern for where we place our feet, being aware of both our ability to damage and be damaged.
In this sacred place and in this vulnerable position, Moses receives God’s self-disclosure. God tells Moses, “I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.” In this self-declaration, God also becomes the God of Moses. Standing on the mountain of God, face to face with the divine flame, shoeless and vulnerable, Moses received not only God’s self-declaration thus God’s self (coming into personal contact and experience with God like his forefathers[7]), but also his calling. After explaining that God has heard (and felt! cf. Ex. 2:25) the painful and tormented cries of Israel dying under oppression and alienation, God is going to deliver God’s people into liberation, and Moses will be the one through whom God will conduct this promised exodus. Here, Moses goes from shepherd to prophet.[8] Everything Moses does and says—from this moment onward—will work toward the liberation of God’s people from the oppression of Pharoah. From this day forward, everywhere Moses walks is sacred ground for God promises to be with Moses[9] for God will be who God will be:[10]that is, the one who will go with Moses and Israel.
Conclusion
None of what is in this passage from Exodus is about Israel forgetting where and bon which they stand. In fact, it’s about Moses being made aware that he’s on holy ground and will be as he walks into Pharoah’s throne room and demands the children of God be released and all in God’s name for God is with him. But here’s the thing, the bulk of Exodus is about exhorting Israel to stay with God, to keep their eyes on God, and walk with God thus walk with their neighbor and correct the wrongs in the world. But why? Why is this story a focal point in Israel’s history? Because, well, Israel has a history of finding themselves tromping about, shoes on, causing violence to the neighbors and to themselves, eager to bring glory to themselves, and forgetting the holy ground on which they stand with God. They will forget that their ground is hallowed and that they should tread tenderly and vulnerably. I say this not only because I’ve read the book; I say this because in a few chapters in this text, Israel will be liberated and will rejoice with singing and dancing and then swear that Moses is trying to kill them by leading them into this wilderness. Whether intentional or unintentional, Israel will begin to forsake God, to forget, and to wander away from their God whom they love and thus to also begin to see their neighbor as a threat, their land as theirs, and live as if they (and the promised land) weren’t intended to be a blessing through whom all the world (including other nations) will be blessed. Israel will get caught up in the lie that power and military might equal peace and safety, tall walls and ethnic purity equal security and blessedness. They will forget God is the source of their identity and create their own identity by their own means, with their shoes on, disconnected from the hallowed ground, the mount of God’s unchanging love. They will stand on their own land and wander from God and thus from their call. Moses knows this, God knows this.
So it is with us. And as we go through this third week of lent, let us consider our times of forgetting the hallowed ground we stand on, the times we forgot that there is tender earth under our feet, the very ground God walks with us as our neighbor. Let us consider how we’ve forgotten our calling to be a blessing of love, life, and liberation to our neighbors especially the least of these. Let us consider how we’ve forgotten the good story, forgotten that our terra firms is, was, and always will be God, and that without the heart of our Christian identity (Christ, God of very God) we cannot bear such an identity. As wonderful and miraculous as we are, we’re fleshy, meat creatures prone to wander. The good news is, God knows this and comes to do something about it.
[2] Jefrey H. Tigay, “Exodus,” The Jewish Study Bible Jewish Publication Society Tanakh Translation, eds. Adele Berlin and Marc Zvi Brettler (Oxford: OUP, 2004), 110. “The current narrative is the result of an artful combination of the two early sources, J and E. This is intimated by the different names used for God in 3.4a and b, but the clearest indication is the fact that 3.9-15 seem intrusive: vv. 9, 10, and 15a are redundant with, respectively, vv. 7, 18b, and 16a; the people never ask for God’s name as Moses expects in v. 13; and vv. 10 and 18 describe the goal of Moses’ mission to Pharoah differently and use different terms for the Egyptian king. VV. 16-18 in fact read like a direct continuation of v. 8.”
[3] Tigay, “Exodus,” 110. “The consistent use of the name ‘God’ (‘elohim) in 3.9-15 identifies its source as E; the remainder of this section is mostly from J with a few other passages from E (such as vv. 1, 4b, 6b, and 20b). By incorporating material from both sources the redactor preserved important themes, such as the explanation of God’s name in v. 14 € and the fact that God both ‘appeared’ to Moses (3.2, 16; 4.1, 5 from J) and ‘sent’ him (vv. 10, 12-15, from E).”
[4] Tigay, “Exodus,” 110. “Horeb, alternate name for Mount Sinai (in E and in Deuteronomy). It is generally thought to be located in the Sinai Peninsula, though some believe it is in northwest Arabia, near Midian. Its designation mountain of God may indicate that it was already considered a sacred place, or it may be anticipatory. The first possibility may gain support from Egyptian inscriptions of the 4th century BCE that refer to an area, apparently int his region, as ‘land of the nomads, Yahwe’; this might also be understood as ‘land of the nomads who worship Yahwe.’”
[5] Tigay, “Exodus,” 110. V.2 “a manifestation of God. Angels (lit. ‘messengers’) usually take human form, but this one takes the form of fire, a substance evocative of the divine because it is insubstantial yet powerful, dangerous, illuminating, and purifying.”
[6] Tigay, “Exodus,” 110. “The burning bush is both a means of attracting Moses’ attention and a manifestation of God’s presence.”
[7] Tigay, “Exodus,” 110-111. “The God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob: This phrase later became the way that God is addressed in the ‘Amidah prayer. The repetition of ‘God’ before each patriarch is explained in ‘Etz Yosef a commentary on the Jewish prayerbook, as meaning that, like the patriarchs, each person should believe in God on the basis of personal investigation, not merely tradition.”
[8] Tigay, “Exodus,” 111. “I will send you as a Prophet, Moses’ primary roles is to serve as God’s emissary. Phrases with ‘send’…typify the selection of prophets…”
[10] Tigay, “Exodus,” 111. “God’s proper name, disclosed in the next verse, is Yhvh (spelled ‘yod-heh-vav-heh’ in Heb; in ancient times the ‘vav’ was pronounced ‘w’). But here God first tells Moses its meaning: Ehyeh-Asher-Ehyeh, probably best translated as ‘I Will Be What I will Be,’ meaning ‘my nature will become evident form my actions.’ (Compare God’s frequent declarations below, that from His future acts Israel and Egypt ‘shall know that I am the Lord [Yhvh]’…Then he answers Moses’ question bout what to say to the people: ‘Tell them: ‘Ehyeh’ (‘I will Be,’ a shorter form of the explanation) sent me.’ This explanation derives God’s name from the ern ‘h-v-h,’ a variant form of ‘h-y-h’, to be.’ Because God is the speaker, He uses the first person form of the verb.”
Psalm 36:5-7 5 Your love, O Abba God, reaches to the heavens, and your faithfulness to the clouds. Your righteousness is like the strong mountains, your justice like the great deep; you save both human and beast, O Abba God. How priceless is your love, O God! your people take refuge under the shadow of your wings.
Introduction
I saw a meme recently that referred to January as a big MONDAY. Like, the whole month is just one Monday. Now, as someone who prefers Monday to Tuesday, I wasn’t displeased with this idea—though, it did make me consider if March or February was the big TUESDAY of the year… No matter my opinions on the meme or the days, the feeling holds. Think about it. We are two weeks out from many parties, festivities, celebrations, and feasts. We are more than two weeks out from opening presents and receiving cards and picture in the mail. We are two weeks into houses and business slowly removing their festive lights from public view. We are two weeks into feeling the lean and the austere as we pull back from the Christmas season back to the “normal” day in and day out. We’re two weeks into the cold feeling colder and the dark seeming darker.[1]
It feels like one big Monday.
Sometimes the temptation in the Monday (no matter how long or short it is) is to pull in and away, hide, and burrow in deeper under those duvets and comforters. There are times when this is exactly what we (I?) may need to do, but it can’t and shouldn’t be our only response to Mondays mondaying. Here’s why: because it’s in our lack, in our weak, in our exhaustion, in our want, in our empty, in our sad, in our “I can’t even” where God shows up. In the Mondayest Monday that ever Mondayed, God shows up. When we can’t, God can; when all that’s left is water, God brings wine.
John 2:1-11
Now Jesus says to them, “Fill the water pots full of water.” And they filled them up to the brim. Then he says to them, “Now draw water and bring [it] forth to the superintendent of the banquet.” And they brought [it] forth. And as the superintendent of the banquet tastes the water it has become wine! And he had not perceived from where it came… (Jn 2:7-9b)[2]
John brings us to a very familiar story; one we all know quite well: Jesus turning water into wine. While always an excellent argument about why wine is “okay,” there’s more to the story here than an argument for drinking and to why it’s included in our lectionary.[3] This story and its embedded miracle, are an “Epiphany” story and miracle.[4] While not all that original to the Christian narrative (there is some intersection with the legend of Dionysus[5]) the story features the revelation of the glory of God in Christ; the son of humanity Jesus Christ’s acceptance and revelation as the son of God. This one is no ordinary one, John is saying in this miracle story; both Jesus’s humanity and divinity are being exposed here by John.
The human part is designated by the story opening on Mary and Jesus and the disciples at a wedding in Cana (vv. 1-2)—a rather regular human affair. Noticing that the wine has fallen short (there’s no more), Mary, Jesus’s mother, brings this to Jesus’s attention, “They do not have wine,” she says to him (v. 3). And Jesus’s response is quite sharp and frank, “What [is it] to you and me, woman? My hour has not yet arrived” (v. 4) The tone is “stop bugging me,”[6] and, frankly, if there ever was a more real and human interaction between a mother and her eldest son, I know not of it. But Jesus’s use of “Woman” (γύναι) is unique here and places a certain distance between himself and Mary[7] exacerbating the tension that’s building toward the miracle as incredible. In other words, Jesus dismisses the request, but the story isn’t over.[8] Mary then dismisses Jesus’s curt reply and declaration that it’s not time for him to be public and pushed into the confrontation with the status-quo and the powers and rulers of the kingdom of humanity.[9] She tells the servants at the wedding banquet, “Whatever he might say to you, you do.” (v. 5). Mary’s aim, or, rather, John’s aim is to get Jesus to do a miracle.[10] And so the story moves on.
John tells us that there were six large waterpots appointed for purification rites according to the children of Israel; [these pots] holding two or three measures of 8.75 gallons (v. 6). (That is, max, 26.25 gallons per waterpot and thus, 157.5 gallons total.) Then John tells us, Jesus says to/commands [the servants], “Fill the waterpots full of water.” And they filled them up to the brim (v. 7). Then a second command, Jesus says to/commands [the servants], “Now draw water and bring [it] forth to the superintendent of the banquet.” And they brought [it] forth (v. 8). At this point the narrative shifts from Jesus and the servants to the superintendent of the banquet. John writes, Now as the superintendent of the banquet tastes the water, it had become wine(!), and he had not perceive from where it came. But those who have drawn the water had perceived (v.9-9c). John keeps the miracle relatively obscured, only the reading audience knows that Jesus did this miracle. Thus, for John, God’s divine activity is celebrated but cloaked. [11] God is glorified not by direct praise but by the concrete miracle of water turning into wine[12] in the midst of a people being made happy,[13] celebrating, and coming together;[14],[15]
John continues, And the superintendent of the banquet calls out to the bridegroom and says to him, “All people appoint the good wine first, and whenever [the people] were drunk with wine [appoints] the lesser; you, you keep the good wine until just now!” (vv. 9d-10). A miracle has occurred, the best wine is brought out last, and, according to John, this illuminates Jesus as the promised messiah[16] and that this event is just the first of the signs in Cana of Galilee that reveal Jesus glory and his status with God and among humanity (v. 11a). God’s glory is made known in and through Christ, and this is the goal and object of John’s material–specifically around the miracle stories. For John, there is no way to mistake it, Jesus is the son of God, the promised one, the long awaited Messiah, the one who reveals God in his flesh and God’s will through his words and deeds[17] and thus solicits faith from people—and his disciples believed in him (v. 11b). This is the point, to come into contact with the Holy One of Israel, to find oneself face to face with God in Christ and to believe, to receive grace and truth thus to be saved and rescued from one’s dead self unto a new alive self to be in the world for the neighbor, the beloved of God, to the glory of God just like Jesus. [18]
Conclusion
Jesus took six empty waterpots and some water and turned it all into a reason to continue the party. This is a real and true miracle. And John’s point is how this miracle, demonstrates Jesus’s divine glory, his relation and representation of God as God’s son. This is what Jesus does, he takes what is empty, fatigued, worn out, dead and renders it full, rested, fresh, and alive. While we could wax eloquently in defense of partying and celebrating with wine, now isn’t the time for that. The real thing to focus on is how Jesus can bring to life ordinary objects and send them into the world for the robust divine purpose of bringing God’s love, life, and liberation to the people.
As I said at the beginning, it’s in our lack, in our weak, in our exhaustion, in our fatigue, in our want, in our empty, in our sad, in our “I can’t even” where God shows up. When we can’t God can. When all that’s left is water, God brings wine. When it all seems and appears to be nothing and gone and ready to be washed up and closed down, God shows up and reinvigorates that which is dead because that is what God does: God is the strength in our weakness because when we are weak and can’t God is strong and can. The radical thing is that God is glorified when, in spite of ourselves, God’s will, mission, and revolution of love life and liberation are not only participated in, but moved forward through us and our weakness by his soundness. We are the waterpots, we are the ones taken, filled, and made to be glorious instruments of belonging and God’s glory. Beloved, in this mega-Monday of a January, be assured God is still at work in and through you.
[1] I credit my son Quinn with giving me this idea that there is “December Winter” and “January Winter” and the two are very different.
[3] Did you know that all three Epiphany 2s have a reading from John either first or second chapters according to our lectionary?
[4] Rudolf Bultmann, The Gospel of John: A Commentary, trans. GR Beasley-Murray, Gen Ed, RWN Hoare and JK Riches (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1971), 118-119. Originally published as, Das Evangelium des Johannes (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1964, 1966). “The source counted this as the first miracle. It is easy to see why it put it at the beginning of its collection; for it is an epiphany miracle…There can be no doubt that the story has been taken over form heathen legend and ascribed to Jesus. In fact the motif of the story, the changing of the water into wine, is a typical motif of the Dionysus legend.”
[7] Bultmann, John, 116. “The refusal is a rough one…What is surprising here is the form of address, γύναι, where one expects ‘Mother’. Even though it is not disrespectful or scornful, it sets a peculiar distance between Jesus and his mother.”
[8] Bultmann, John, 116. “The purpose of the preparation is precisely to bring out the character of the miracle as παράδοξον by raising the tension. This is done here, as elsewhere, by making Jesus at first refuse the request, but in such a way as to keep the expectation alive.”
[9] Cardenal, Solentiname, 77. “Carlos Alberto: ‘…By doing this he was already pushing himself into his public life, I mean, into struggle, and now he was going to be persecuted…I see that right after this in the following passage, Saint John already has Jesus driving the money changers out of the temple, and also talking about his death. So it’s clear that this miracle speeded things up.’”
[10] Bultmann, John, 116. “When the wine runs out, Jesus’ mother brings it to his notice; of course she does this with the aim of getting him to perform a miracle, as can be seen from Jesu’ answer v. 4, and as was also to be expected from the style of the miracle story, in which everything is related with an eye on the main point of the story and must be understood in relation to this point.”
[11] Bultmann, John, 118. “It is in accordance with the style of the miracle stories that the miraculous process itself is not described; the divine action remains a mystery.”
[12] Bultmann, John, 118. “As in other miracle stories, the greatness of what has happened is emphasised by a demonstration or acclamation by the public. Yet here the παράδοξον is not brought out by a generalized phrase, but by a concrete scene: the water had been turned into the most excellent wine!…This saying marks the end of the narrative proper: any further words would only detract from the effect.”
[13] Cardenal, Solentiname, 78. “Oscar: ‘It seems to me that the wine means joy, a party. To be happy. Enjoyment. Also love. He wanted to make us see that he was bringing enjoyment, happiness, a party.’”
[14] Cardenal, Solentiname, 78. “Olivia: ‘Joy. And also unity. Wine unites. He was coming to bring about unity among people. But liquor can separate too, and lead to quarrels, stabbings…’”
[15] Cardenal, Solentiname, 79. “Marcelino: ‘We see then that he was coming to bring unity and brotherhood among people. That’s the wine he brought. If there’s no brotherhood among people there’s no joy. Like a party where people are divided, where they don’t all share alike, it’s a party without joy….So a society with quarrels, with social classes, can’t have a true banquet, a true party.’”
[16] Cardenal, Solentiname, 78-79. “The prophet Amos had said that when the Messiah came there would be great harvests of wheat and grapes, and that the hills would distill wine. Isaiah says that God was going to prepare a banquet for all the peoples, with very good meat and very good wines. And he had also prophesied about the Messiah, saying that “they would not be sad.” By the miracle Christ is making it clear that he is the promised Messiah.’”
[17] Bultmann, John, 120. “For here, as elsewhere, the Evangelist’s figurative language refers not to any particular gift brought by the Saviour Jesus, but to Jesus himself as the Revealer, as is true of the images of the living water, the bread of life and the light, as well as of the shepherd and the vine; equally the wine refers not to any special gift, but to Jesus’ gift as a whole, to Jesus himself as the Revealer, as he is finally visible after the completion of his work.”
[18] Bultmann, John, 119. “For the Evangelist the meaning of the story is not contained simply in the miraculous event; this, or rather the narrative, is the symbol of something which occurs throughout the whole of Jesus’ ministry, that is, the revelation of the δόξα of Jesus. As understood by the Evangelist this is not the power of the miracle worker, but the divinity of Jesus as the Revealer, and it becomes visible for faith in the reception of χάρις and ἀλήθεια; his revelation of his δόξα is nothing more nor less than his revelation of the ὄνομα of the Father (17.6).”
1 Samuel 2:8a-b Abba God raises up the poor from the dust; Abba God lifts the needy from the ash heap to make them sit with princes and inherit a seat of honor.
Introduction
Our relationship with our ideologies will be the end of us.
I know that’s not the greatest way to begin a sermon in a place that should bring comfort, but it is the truthiest way I know how to begin. (This place is as much about comfort as it is about truth.) While I think there are good ideologies and worse ones, the reality is—and to quote last week’s sermon—we do this. There are ideas we have and ideals we strive for; then there is the calcification of those ideas and ideals that we turn into ideologies; we do this. They aren’t inherently embedded in the universe, waiting for our exploration and discovery. Let’s go on a thought journey: imagine earth making its way about the sun without humanity anywhere. In this image, what is happening on the face of the earth? Flora is flora-ing, fauna is fauna-ing, Things get warm, things get cold; things enter night while things enter day. Things are just going. Are animals fighting, sure. Are trees dying because of beetles, sure. But it’s all just going, organically, day in and day out.
At no point in that image is there a discussion about “good” and “evil”, of “progress” and “conserving”, of “individual” and “communal”, of “this” and “not that”. Why? Because we bring that stuff into the mix. To be clear, I’m not arguing for a human-less world; I very much enjoy my time here as a human, doing all my humany things. I’m also not arguing that those discussions, dialogues, and dialectics aren’t important; don’t forget, I’m a theologian and political ethicist, my academic career depends on such things be engaged with and vigorously. But what I want you to see is that part of being human is making and creating systems and structures that reflect ourselves into the world, materializing what we hold most dear. Did you catch that emphasis? What WE hold most dear, how WE see the world, what WE think is best. Every philosophy, theology, ethical program, religious expression carries a certain amount of personal bias that then resonates with others experiencing the world. Every. One.
The problem is that we don’t see these ideologies as things we make, like tables and chairs. We see them as parts of us worth defending as if our lives depended on it. Here, three things happen, a). (individually) we lose ourselves to them (as in, they become a part of our personhood, being, and identity); b). (corporately) we lose the number one thing that makes us most human: relationships with others, with our kin and with our neighbor (as in, we will cling to ideologies harder than we will cling to each other because we have allowed them to define us more than our relationships); and c). because we have invested so much in these ideologies, we can’t let them be wrong because then we become bad (as in, we’ve succumbed to the false binary that right=good and wrong=bad). In other words, too close an identification with what we believe to be the way will mean that we lose others and in losing others we lose ourselves. In other, other words, we lose our humanity and let the very things we created have domination over us, and we are thrust back into captivity; our ideologies are none other than immaterial golden calves causing us to curve in on ourselves more and more, forsaking our neighbor, thus forsaking God. We will become so turned in on ourselves that we won’t even know God’s left the building.
Mark 13:1-8
And then, while they were leaving out of the temple, one of [Jesus’s] disciples says to Jesus, “Teacher, behold(!), how magnificent the enormous blocks of stone and how magnificent the sanctuary!!” And Jesus said to him, “See these great buildings? Not one stone here will be left stone upon stone, not one at all(!); all will be overthrown.”
Mark opens chapter thirteen with Jesus leaving the temple—the one he’s been in for a while teaching. This leaving functions in two ways: 1. it provides a conclusion to the teaching of the disciples that has been ongoing for chapters now; and 2. Jesus physically severs his connection with the temple (he’s not thrown out; he leaves as the “unquestioned winner in the contest”).[1] In other words, Mark sets up an important visual for his audience: God is leaving the building (recall Mk. 1:1).
As Jesus and his disciples are leaving the temple, one of them (who goes unnamed) marvels, to Jesus, about how magnificent the building is and the stones! “Teacher, behold(!), how magnificent the enormous blocks of stone and how magnificent the sanctuary!!” These structures were fantastically remarkable, the place you’d go if you’re touristing about Jerusalem. One scholar explains, the temple “occupied a platform of over 900 by 1, 500 feet, and the front of the temple building itself stood 150 feet tall and 150 feet wide, made of white stone, much of it covered with silver and gold”; don’t forget, his disciples aren’t city mice, they’re country mice[2]—what they witnessed firsthand as the sun played with the precious metals, stones, and cuts was truly marvelous and awe inspiring.[3] But even though a building is remarkable and speaks to the beautiful ingenuity of human minds and hands (and conjures horrifying images of the many oppressed bodies that were used to build it…), and even if it is dedicated to the most upright purposes, it doesn’t mean that somehow God is trapped therein, obligated to reside (forever) among the stone and precious metals.
So, Jesus says, “See these great buildings/sanctuaries? Not one stone here will be left stone upon stone, not one at all(!); all will be overthrown.” What the unnamed disciple saw as magnificent, Jesus sees as the cite of God’s revolution of love, life and liberation in the world. For Mark’s Jesus, there’s nothing of the temple that is glorifying to God;[4] rather, it’s a testament to human glory, and the leadership therein is dead set on their one way to do things, the one way that brings them the most power and the most glory (remember Mk. 12:38-44). Like the pharisees in other instances and the scribes just before this, this is nothing but a well decorated tomb of human made ideologies[5] destroying God’s beloved, oppressing them, tearing them apart, rendering them grist for the mill of the corrupted authority. As Jesus leaves the temple and promises its destruction, he emphasizes that the temple is going to be replaced with something new.[6]
Jesus then, according to Mark, goes to the Mount of Olives and sits down. It’s assumed he leaves the temple by the east gate. The imagery here would not have been lost on the original audience, but it might be lost on us. Mark is harkening back to the book of Ezekial and God’s abandonment of the temple through the east gate and resting on the mountain to the east of the city.[7] Thus, Mark positions Jesus going out of the east gate to the Mount of Olives and sitting down opposite the temple (a position of judgment).[8] According to Jesus, Jerusalem and the temple are no longer the primary focus of the divine government.[9] God has (definitely) left the building.
And the next part of our passage is Jesus’s cryptic reply to Peter’s question (on behalf of James, John, and Andrew) that speaks to “‘the end of the old order’.”[10] Peter asks, “Answer for us when these things will be, and what the sign [will be] whenever all these things will intend to be accomplished.” Jesus’s response is a (prophetic[11]) litany of various wars and skirmishes, lies and deceits, none of which are literal signs that are predictions; Jesus knows that his disciples will be prone to being misled by wars, rivalries between nations and kingdoms, and even by false messiahs.[12] Rather, these things will happen not because they are signaling something divine (the collapse of the temple) but because they are the fruit of humans being human; we cause wars, we intentionally deceive others, we allow our anthropocentric megalomania to dare to believe we can save ourselves (politically and spiritually). WE DO THIS! The collapse of the temple is because of human intoxication with itself; the temple will collapse under the weight of human made ideologies and God’s refusal to be held captive by them. As we said last week,Unless Abba God builds the house, their labor is in vain who build it. Unless Abba God watches over the city, in vain the watcher keeps their vigil.
But Jesus doesn’t leave them without hope. For Jesus, part of the economy of the kingdom of God is that death precedes life, just as incredible trial and pain precede the birthing of new life.[13] The promised destruction of the temple is but one of those things that will liberate the people into something new [14] and the disciples need not get caught up in conspiracy theories and false messiahs[15]. They are to stay the course,[16] they will need to keep their head about them and refuse the temptation to be driven and controlled by cultic conspiracies. They must fix their eyes on something else, someone else who came to liberate them—yesterday, today, and tomorrow.[17] And it is this fixed focus on Jesus, the source of love, life, and liberation that the disciples will participate in liberating all of God’s beloved from captivity (to the temple, to religion, to philosophy, to theology, to dogma, to doctrine, to law, to themselves, to their power, privilege, and prestige) into real liberation that brings with it robust love (for God and for the neighbor), vibrant new life focused on pulling together and not apart, uplifting and not tearing down, listening and not dismissing. Here in, in this pulling together, in this community, in this solidarity within humanity is the temple to be found.
Conclusion
If you’re tempted to think this is a first century Palestinian problem, please think again.[18] The Church, the Christian Church, the American Christian Church is not the new temple; we are as at risk of turning this building into an empty tomb as our ancient siblings. The new temple will always be in Christ and where Christ goes; and it will be those who follow Christ (by faith and in action) who live within the new temple of the reign of God in Christ by the power of the Holy Sirit. It is these who will be with Christ who bring Christ to others and participate in God’s diving mission of the righteous revolution of love, life, and liberation.
So, for us here today, Beloved, we need liberation, we need interruption, we need to get our heads on straight. We must heed the words of Christ to his disciples and think clear and smart and always choose that which brings much love, that which produces the most life, and that which causes the greatest amount of liberation—about these we must also be adamant, these are our guiding ideas and ideals, these are our dives and motivations. If our ideologies cannot do that or have stopped, we must—must—choose love, life, and liberation over our ideologies…we don’t have a choice; God’s about to leave the building, if God hasn’t already left.
[1] 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), 494. “…already in 12:1-12 and increasingly since 12:34…Jesus has taken the initiative, posing the next question himself (without receiving a reply) and going on to denounce the representatives of religious power and to overturn conventional values of importance an status. It is thus appropriate that the whole episode ends not with the authorities taking action against Jesus…but with Jesus now the unquestioned winner in the contest, himself severing the connection by leaving the temple and pronouncing its down fall.”
[2] France, Mark, 496. “The unnamed disciple’s admiration of the temple buildings would be typical of a Galilean visitor to Jerusalem.”
[3] William C. Placher, Mark, Belief: A Theological Commentary on the Bible, eds Amy Plantinga Pauw and William C. Placher. (Louisville: WJK, 2010), 184-185. “It is understandable that Jesus’ disciples, mostly from the countryside, would have been impressed by the temple Herod had built. It occupied a platform of over 900 by 1,500 feet, and the front of the temple building itself stood 150 feet tall and 150 feet wide, made of white stone, much of it covered with silver and gold, by far the most impressive building any of them had seen, glowing int eh sunlight. Little wonder they were amazed by it all—and then little wonder at Jesus’ frustration that they had not yet understood his teaching that God was not present in him and not in the temple.”
[4] France, Mark, 496. “Splendid as the structure may be, its time is over.”
[5] France, Mark, 494. “The unnamed disciple’s superficial admiration for the magnificence of the buildings, contrasted with Jesus’ declaration of their ultimate bankruptcy, furnishes yet another example of the reorientation to the new perspective of the kingdom of God to which the disciples are committed but which they remain slow to grasp, and which Mark expects his readers to embrace.”
[6] France, Mark, 494. “The old structure of authority in which God’s relationship with his people has hitherto been focused, is due for replacement…As Mt. 12:6 has it, ‘Something greater than the temple is here’. The discourse which will follow in vv. 5-37 will fill out the nature of that ‘something greater’.”
[8] France, Mark, 495. “Moreover, he goes from the temple onto the Mount of Olives (v. 3), presumably leaving by the east gate. it does not take a very profound knowledge of the Book of Ezekiel to recall the dramatic description of God’s abandonment of his temple as the chariot throe of God’s glory rises up from inside the temple, pauses at the east gate, and comes to rest on ‘the mountain east of the city’ (Ezk. 10:18-19; 11:22-23). So now again the divine presence is withdrawn from the temple, and it is left to its destruction.”
[9] France, Mark, 497-498. “The mutual hostility between Jesus and the Jerusalem establishment has now reached it culmination in Jesus’ open prediction of the destruction of the temple, with its powerful symbolism of the end of the existing order and the implication that something new is to take its place. This is to be a time of unprecedented upheaval in the life and leadership of the people of God. Jerusalem, and the temple which is the focus of its authority, is about to lose its central role in God’s economy. “the βασιλεία τοῦ θεοῦ, is to find a new focus.”
[11] France, Mark, 508. “What we know from Josephus of the forty years or so between Jesus’ ministry and the destruction of the temple amply illustrates these warnings.”
[12] France, Mark, 508. “The disciples, and those who following them will read these words, are called to discernment and warned against the sort of superficial impressions of ‘fulfillment’ which have been the bane of students of apocalyptic and eschatological literature ever since. Sometimes false impressions are self-inflicted, as people naively read off from world events the ‘signs of the end’ (vv.7-8). Sometimes, however, they are deliberately fostered by those who have something to gain by working on the credulity of the faithful (vv. 5-6). Jesus’ disciples will be liable to both kinds of misinformation as they look for the fulfilment of his words about the destruction of the temple. They must be on their guard.”
[13] France, Mark,509. “There is a birth to be looked forward to, but the wars, earthquakes, and famines of vv. 7-8 show only that it is coming, not when it will come. Even to speak of a birth at all is perhaps to press the metaphor too far, in that such an expression as ὠδῖνες τοῦ θανάτου does not seem to envisage a birth, only pain; but as the discourses proceeds, we shall see that the coming destruction of the temple will bring with it a new beginning.”
[14] France, Mark, 509. “The answer given to the disciples’ questions in the first four verses of the discourse is thus a negative one, clearing away the natural tendency to look for signs of the temple’s destruction in the stirring and ominous events of the coming years, in the areas both of politics and of natural disaster. The disciples must not allow themselves to be misled. They will have enough to do to maintain their own witness to the truth through these difficult days…”
[15] France, Mark, 510. Those claiming to act in Jesus’s name, “So we must assume some meagre contextual guidance is that they were not so much claiming to act on Jesus’ authority as in fact aiming to usurp his place, not by claiming to be Jesus redivivus (surely too far-fetched a concept in this context) but by arrogating to themselves the role which was rightly his, that of Messiah…”
[16] France, Mark, 511. “The disciples are to be calm and not to jump to hasty conclusions.”
[17] Placher, Mark, 185. “They want to know what is going to happen, and Jesus says that many terrible things will happen (a safe bet in first-century Palestine), but that they should not jump to the conclusion that bad times announce the immediate end of the present age.”
[18] Placher, Mark, 185. “Christians in any period who see the end at hand need to remember that such predications came within a generation of Jesus’ death and have been coming, on and off, ever since.”
Psalm 127:1-2 Unless Abba God builds the house, their labor is in vain who build it. Unless Abba God watches over the city, in vain the watcher keeps their vigil.
Introduction
We’re marching forward here in the gospel of Mark and learning, in every which way, what it looks like to be a disciple of Christ. And while I’ve stressed (because Mark has stressed) that it’s hard and can be (very) uncomfortable, the actual point is that following Christ, being a disciple of Jesus, is really and simply about being human…fully, and totally, materially and spiritually, from the inniest parts of our souls to the outiest surfaces of our body. For Mark’s Jesus, being fully and totally human requires a few things, full dependence on God through faith in Christ by the power of the indwelling divine Spirit. It’s this triune foundation that nourishes us in the amniotic fluid of divine love, bears us into the world swaddled in divine love, and continues to grow us toward divine love that is faith making itself known in the world through acts of love for God’s beloved. As the psalm tells us this morning: “Unless Abba God builds the house, their labor is in vain who build it. Unless Abba God watches over the city, in vain the watcher keeps their vigil.”
In other words, when left to our own devices and to our own cleverness we create kingdoms and orders that remove us from not only God but from our own humanity. It is not some evil force that makes even well-intentioned systems and structures inhuman, it’s our own doing. We create hierarchies, in groups and out groups, uses and thems; we determine who is worth saving and who isn’t; we fabricate narratives elevating some above others because of wealth, skin, gender and sex, religion, age, abledness… We do this. And Jesus came, according to Mark, to expose these tendencies of the inhabitants of the kingdom of humanity and to usher them into the reign of God as citizens who make a difference in the world just by being willing to be utterly and completely human by loving (in word and deed) those whom God loves. By faith in Christ and by the power of the Holy Spirit, disciples of Christ become those human beings—fully dependent on God—who see through elaborate presentations of power and prestige and dare to imagine another way, a better way, a more human way defined by the reign of God and to the wellbeing of the neighbor.
Mark 12:38-44
And then [Jesus] was saying in his teaching, “You perceive from the scribes, those who desire to walk around in the apparel of the elite and [be] greeted deferentially in the places of assembly and [desire] the most honorable seat in the synagogue and the chief place at the table at dinner, the ones who take material advantage of the households of widows and for pretexts pray for a long time; they, they will receive a greater judgment…” (Mk. 12:38-40)
Apart from what we experienced last week between Jesus and the scribe who “got it,” we are back with Jesus’s continual denunciation of self-aggrandized power run amok.[1] Literally. Jesus has zero tolerance for these scribes[2] and exposes their “general character” manifesting as “ostentatious, exploitative, and hypocritical”.[3] Jesus proposes to his disciples, in this passage, another way of being (and leading) in the world, a way he, Jesus, the Son of God and of Humanity, will take which is the way he expects his disciples[4] to take, too.[5]
If you thought that the politics of Jesus emphasized being nice and tolerant, this passage blows that notion to smithereens; Jesus is thoroughly polemical[6] right now, and that’s why he broad brushed an entire group of Jewish authority[7] when he says: You perceive from the scribes those who desire…. The “you perceive” is a command, meaning YOU look….LOOK! And the “those who desire” modifies the scribes as those who have the ambition to abuse their power and to exploit the people. In other words, Jesus is saying, Look, LOOK!, look at how the scribes not only exploit the people but that they desire to do it… They desire[8] the glory their fancy/celebratory robes[9] bring them, the deferential greetings[10] their rank demands from those who are inferior, the best seats, and to siphon the livelihood from widows through being paid for their long prayers.[11] And when it comes to leaders who opt for arrogant self-involvement at the expense of God’s people—especially the weak and least of these in society like widows[12]—God takes massive issue and divine judgment comes…not for the people so deceived and duped, but for those in authority who capitalized on and benefited from such deception. This is quite literally what the major and minor prophets are all about, and this is why Jesus then says, they, they will receive a greater (divine[13]) judgment!
Then, according to the text, Mark tells us, And then after sitting down opposite the treasury he was looking at how the crowd is throwing money into the treasury. And many wealthy people were throwing in much. And then a poor widow came and threw in two of the smallest amounts of money[14] (which is a quadrans). This scene is jarring, it doesn’t seem to fit with what has just come before. Or is it? Seems there’s some ostentatious public[15] demonstrations of the rich throwing large sums of money[16] into the various thirteen “trumpet chests” [17]. It’s here where there’s an overlap: Jesus, again, has zero tolerance for ostentation and zero tolerance for exploitation. Thus, it’s not so much an attack on the rich per se but on the desire to show off how much one can and is giving thus drawing attention to oneself (like the Scribes in the marketplaces in their robes).[18] In this way, it can also be (potentially) an attack on institutions that allow the exploitation and extortion of widows their business for their own benefit—donations for the poor were done elsewhere apart from these trumpet chests.[19]
Jesus, in response to witnessing the widow’s offering, according to Mark, says, Truly I say to you—so take notice—that the poor widow threw much more into the treasury than all others; for all others threw in out of that which abounds, but she threw in out of her poverty all she was having, her entire livelihood. We’ve often made this offering a type of virtue even to the extent that some churches have suggested that you must give all you have to prove your faithfulness. It is possible that Jesus is glorifying her self-sacrifice and even honoring her heartfelt gift. It could be, too, that Jesus is placing a certain amount of emphasis on the reality that this widow just gave to the temple the means of her next meal when it may have been better for her to eat and live another day.[20] It is possible that Jesus is calling out the narrative justifying stealing from such people their very livelihood.[21] Thus, like the scribes, the human religious authority, consumed by the ideologies of the kingdom of humanity, have turned the temple into a money making institution, granting more and more power and privilege to the themselves (thus the cycle repeats from the beginning).
Conclusion
What do we take away from this? It is not to give all you have, though, during pledge month…give what you can! But more importantly, the point of this passage for us, today, is that humility carries way more currency in the economy of the reign of God than self-aggrandizement. This isn’t about not tooting your horn once in a while because you did something great or something great happened—you need not resort to just saying, “It’s all Jesus!”, Jesus wants you to receive the credit, too! This is about how we participate in systems and institutions that are prone to extorting and taking advantage of the least of these (and some of these least of these includes you). It’s about our faith in Christ and the power of the Holy Spirit, that we, as disciples of Christ, become human beings—fully dependent on God—who see through elaborate presentations of power and prestige and dare to imagine another way, a better way, a more human way defined by the reign of God and to the wellbeing of the neighbor. We are to be truly and fully human in a world demanding to grow ever more inhuman.
[1] 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), 489. “Apart from vv. 28-34, it is true, all the scribes we have met in this gospel have been critics, if not openly enemies, of Jesus, and here in Jerusalem their hostility has come to a head as Jesus had predicted…But there is no comparable denunciation of the priests or elders.”
[2] France, Mark, 491. “In that case the subjects of these participles are not a new group, or even a subgroup of the scribes, but must still be the scribes in general.”
[4] France, Mark, 490. “These remarks, too, are addressed specifically to the disciples….and do not form part of the public denunciation of the scribes. Jesus again calls those who follow him to abandon the world’s conventions of importance: the first are to be last and the last first.”
[5] France, Mark, 489. “But the warning here is not related to what they. May have in mind to do to Jesus, but to their general character as ostentatious, exploitative, and hypocritical…In this context the effect is to offer the crowd a choice as to the sort of leader they will follow, and Jesus pulls no punches in exposing the shortcomings of scribes in general.”
[6] France, Mark, 490. “What is now recorded, however, is not so much teaching as polemic.”
[7] France, Mark, 489. “…this is polemics in the context of a highly charged and potentially fatal confrontation, and a suitably broad brush is applied.”
[8] William C. Placher, Mark, Belief: A Theological Commentary on the Bible, eds Amy Plantinga Pauw and William C. Placher. (Louisville: WJK, 2010), 181. “Beware of those who hold the chief seats, Augustine writes, ‘Not because they hold them, but because they love them.’ Those who are condemned put on a good appearance of piety praying long prayers, but what they seek is honor and wealth.”
[9] France, Mark, 490. “a στολή is not an everyday garment, but a festive or celebratory robe…and suggests ‘dressing up’.”
[10] France, Mark, 490. “Deferential ἀσπασμοί are a mark of social standing…”
[11] France, Mark, 492. “…προφάσει would naturally describe the fraudulent means by which it is achieved. In that case the reference cold be to the sort of payment for the prayers of a religious professional which became common in mediaeval Christianity.”
[12] France, Mark, 491. “The vulnerability of widows is a recurrent theme in biblical literature, so that to defraud them is particularly despicable.”
[13] France, Mark, 492. Κρίμα a reference to “….God’s eschatological judgment, of which Jesus has spoken so vividly…”
[14] France, Mark, 493. “The λεπτόν was the smallest denomination of currency in use, a copper coin less than a centimetre in diameter and worth less than one hundredth of a denarius (which was itself half the value of the half-shekel temple tax).”
[15] France, Mark, 489. “The scene is in the Court of the Women, so-called not because it was a specifically for women but because it was the nearest point to the temple building proper which was open to women. Here stood a range of thirteen ‘trumpet chests’…designed to receive monetary offerings, including not only the half-shekel temple tax but also ‘freewill offerings’. The half-shekel was obligatory for men, but any contribution to the other chests was voluntary, and would be noticed by anyone who, like Jesus and his disciples, was watching…perhaps it was a recognised tourist attraction.”
[16] France, Mark, 492. “χαλκός is strictly ‘copper’ or ‘bronze’, and the widow’s two coins would be of copper.” And, “But the large sums donated by the rich would presumably be in silver or gold coins… so that χαλκός is here used in its more general sense of ‘money’.”
[17] France, Mark, 492. “γαζοφυλάκον…its reference here to the collecting chests in the Court of the Women is demanded by the context…”
[18] France, Mark, 489-490. “Jesus’ comment on the widow’s offering is not an attack on wealth or the wealthy as such, but rather on the scale of values which takes more account of the amount of a gift than of the dedication of the giver. It develops further the new perspective of the kingdom of God which Jesus has been so assiduously teaching his disciples on the way to Jerusalem specially his comments responding to their astonishment at his treatment of the rich man in 10:23-27.”
[19] France, Mark, 493. “All contributions were therefore for the work of the temple; charitable donations for the poor were made separately.”
[20] France, Mark, 493. “While Jesus was not averse to exaggeration to make a point, it is quite possible that in first-century Palestine the donation of two [copper coins] would have left a poor widow without the means for her next meal.”
[21] Placher, Mark, 182. Alt reading: the widow mistakenly gives into a system that is bleeding her dry “Jesus lamented the widow’s contribution”
Psalm 146:4, 6 Happy are they who have the God of Jacob for their help! whose hope is in Abba God…Who gives justice to those who are oppressed, and food to those who hunger.
Introduction
If we’ve learned anything from the gospel of Mark it’s that being a disciple of Christ isn’t easy and comfortable, it demands reconsideration of things familiar and comfortable, it conflicts with the way the world works and the kingdom of humanity operates, it can rupture relationships, it will force you into an inner crisis of identity. What we’ve gleaned from Mark’s Jesus about what it means to follow him clashes with common notions that being a Christian means worldly prosperity, power, popularity, and privilege (often defined by the kingdom of humanity); it clashes with the idea that being a Christian means being nice and happy; it clashes with the idea that being a Christians means allegiance to a flag or nation; it clashes with the idea that being a Christian means doing one set of things on Sunday and spending Monday through Saturday doing whatever you want.
To follow Christ as one of the disciples—those baptized and partaking of the cup—is to render one’s whole life in service to the mission of God’s revolution of love, life, and liberation in the world for the wellbeing of God’s beloved (you, me, us, and especially all who suffer and are heavy laden outside of these walls). There isn’t one part of us that isn’t claimed by the Spirit of God that descended on Pentecost and now lives in us, yoking us to God by and through our faith in Christ. Mark’s Jesus takes very seriously that you are the fragile, breakable vessel of God, working through you as the epicenter of divine judgment and justice—condemning that which promotes death, indifference, and captivity and exalting that which nourishes, life, love, and liberation. This is the demand on the faithful disciple of Christ (then and now); it is the pursuit of divine love that lets them know we are Christians of the reign of God. Nothing else qualifies but to love God and love those whom God loves.
Mark 12:28-34
And then the scribe said to him, “Well said, teacher! You spoke on the basis of the truth that God is one and there is not another except this one. And to love God out of the whole heart and out of the whole intellect and out of the whole strength and to love the neighbor as oneself is greater than all of the whole burnt offerings and sacrifices.”[1]
This entire discussion is rather banal.[2] Since there are (about) 613 mitzvot (separate commands) within Genesis to Deuteronomy, discussions about which commandments were seen “as more essential” and even debates about which ones were “light” and “heavy” happened regularly among the local scholarly network (Pharisees, Scribes, and Sadducees, etc.).[3] Even a “summary” of the law—some idea that ties up the Torah—was expected.[4] Thus, Jesus’s summary fits in with other Jewish summaries of the law (causing absolutely no surprise) and is extended to include the prophets.[5] The only thing that is interesting (and considered unprecedented) is that Jesus links two well-known first testament texts: Deuteronomy 6:4-5 and Leviticus 19:18.[6]
So, why include this story in the gospel and in our lectionary? Because the most central feature of a Christian’s life of faithful discipleship is love. Fullstop. Love God and love your neighbor. Jesus answered, “The first is, ‘Hear O Israel, the Lord your God the Lord is one, and you will love the Lord God from your whole heart, and from your whole soul and from your whole intellect and from your whole strength.’ The second [is] this, ‘You will love your neighbor as yourself.’” The entirety of the Christian life is defined by love that is born by the reign of God and made known in the kingdom of humanity (vertical and horizontal, divine and human, spiritual and material). Not only is the disciple exhorted to love God with their whole self, but they are also to love the neighbor (whoever and wherever they are[7]) in the same way; this is the way for the disciple of Christ. To prove this point and to drive it home, Jesus adds, There is no other command greater than these. Here things get a bit more interesting. Jesus has, first, not given one command but two when the scribe asked for what command is first of all? And, second, Jesus created a hierarchy between the love of God and the love of neighbor and the other commandments. According to Mark’s Jesus, there is a preferred way,[8] subjecting all other commands to these two.
The scribe’s response—“Well said, teacher!You spoke on the basis of the truth that God is one and there is not another except this one. And to love God out of the whole heart and out of the whole intellect and out of the whole strength and to love the neighbor as oneself is greater than all of the whole burnt offerings and sacrifices”—reveals two things. The first is implicit, the scribe gets something that the disciples are still trying to ascertain and understand[9] and the other scribes (and Pharisees and Sadducees) refuse to get.[10] The scribe affirms the fact that Jesus’s words are founded on truth thus revealing his own inherent disposition toward Jesus and also Jesus’s mission in the world (thus why Jesus can say to him later, “You are not far from the reign of God.”; #notallscribes[11]).[12]
The second is explicit, there is nothing within religiosity and religious traditionalism that rival these two commands. Nothing—no ritual, no tradition, no pilgrimage, no vigil, no quiet time, no eucharistic celebration, etc.—absolutely nothing is more important to the Christian life in the world before God and among the neighbor than love, love, love. Everything else is not only subverted[13] to these two commands to love God fully and completely and to love the neighbor as one loves themselves but should be viewed in support of this demand for love in two directions, vertically and horizontally. Thus, for Mark’s Jesus and this humble scribe, to love God is to love the neighbor and to love the neighbor is to love God. [14] What is essentially and primarily ruled out here is any conception of a privatized relationship between one person and God as if that’s all that matters. A disciple of Christ cannot love God and ignore their neighbor because to ignore their neighbor is to ignore God. You don’t get the option to do half of the chief commandment; it’s either both or its nothing.
Conclusion
If you’ve ever wondered what God’s will is for your life as a disciple of Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit, wonder no more. The entirety of your life is summoned into a robust and vigorous relationship fueled, inspired, and sustained by God’s love for the cosmos. We love because we have first been loved; we love our neighbor because God loves us, and we love God and thus love what God loves. To love God with our whole selves is a definitive mark of a disciple of Christ because it manifests as loving our neighbor as if we are loving ourselves the way God loves us (and loves our neighbor). Thus they truly will know we are Christians by our love…
To go further, and to put darker lines around what it means to love God and love the neighbor, it must be stressed that to love God is best expressed not only in devotion through prayer, worship, and glorifying, but specifically expressed in loving that which and those whom God loves. This means loving God’s justice—God’s mission of life, love, and liberation[15]—that seeks to right the wrongs created and promoted by the kingdom of humanity. Thus, to quote Felipe from Ernesto Cardenal’s The Gospel in Solentiname, “‘To love your neighbor then is to love God. You can’t love God without practicing justice. And you can’t love your neighbor without practicing that justice that God commands.’” [16] In other words, the systems of the kingdom of humanity oriented toward injustice–those systems and ideologies oriented toward death, indifference, and captivity—are to be categorically rejected by those who claim to follow Christ by faith as his disciples by the power of the Holy Spirit.[17]
I can’t stress it enough that we are so very, very loved by a good, good God—a God who is love. This is worth celebrating. But if it never goes further and farther than that, then we will find ourselves distant from the reign of God. God’s love can’t be purchased and owned privately as if it can be just for ourselves. God’s love is always on the move, always seeking the object of God’s desire: God’s beloved, you, me, and more importantly, those who have been cast off and pushed to the margins by the ideologically inspired actions of the residents of the kingdom of humanity. We love because we have first been loved; we strive for justice on behalf of the neighbor, because God’s love strives for justice.
[2] Placher, Mark, 174. “Just as it is important to note that Mark portrays this scribe in a sympathetic light, so it is worth remembering that Jesus was not saying anything radically new or at odds with the Jewish tradition.”
[3] 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), 477. “Given that there are, according to scribal reckoning 613 separate commandments in the five Books of Moses…the question of priority could not be avoided. The rabbis discussed which commandments were ‘heavy’ and which ‘light’, and sometimes ranked certain categories of law as more essential than others.”
[4] France, Mark, 477. “There was a natural desire for a convenient summary of the law’s requirements, a single principle form which all the rest of the Torah was derived…”
[6] France, Mark, 477-478. “But for his explicit linking together of these two very familiar OT texts [Lv. 19:18 and Dt. 6:4-5] we have no Jewish precedent.”
[7] Placher, Mark, 174. “Further, we should love our neighbors, and there should be no limits on who counts as a neighbor.”
[8] France, Mark, 478. The “evaluative language is not typical of the rabbis, who spoke of ‘light’ and ‘heavy’ commandments, but on the understanding that all are equally valid, and who, while they might look for summarizing principles, do not seem to have ranked individual commandments as ‘first’ or ‘more important.’”
[9] France, Mark, 482. “In Mark’s previous mentions of the kingdom of God we have repeatedly noted a contrast between the divine and human perspective, and a sense of surprise, even of shock, as the unfamiliar values of God’s kingship are recognised. It is a secret given only to those who follow Jesus and hear his teaching (4.11). But here is a man who Is already a good part of the way through the readjustment of values which the kingdom of God demands and which the disciples have been so painfully confronting on the way to Jerusalem.”
[11] William C. Placher, Mark, Belief: A Theological Commentary on the Bible, eds Amy Plantinga Pauw and William C. Placher. (Louisville: WJK, 2010), 173. “The question is sincere, the scribe’s response to Jesus is wise, and Jesus tells him, ‘You are not far from the kingdom of God.’ Mark….goes out of his way to indicate that not all Jewish scholars where corrupt or were Jesus’ opponents.”
[12] France, Mark, 482. “…the scribe’s reply has assured Jesus that his mind is well attuned to the divine perspective. This place him οὐ μακρὰν ἀπὸ τῆς βασιλείας τοῦ θεοῦ, not yet a part of it apparently, but unlike the rich who will find it so hard to enter the kingdom of God…this man is a promising potential recruit.”
[13] Cardenal, Solentiname, 530. “I: ‘But here he’s not talking only about false rites but true rites. He says that love is worth more than all religious rites.’”
[14] Cardenal, Solentiname, 529. “You can say, then, that those that obey the second, it’s as if they’re obeying the first. Those who don’t love God, for example, because they don’t believe in God, but love their neighbor, according to Christ it’s as if they’re obeying the first commandment.”
[15]Ernesto Cardenal, The Gospel in Solentiname, translated by Donald D. Walsh (Eugene: Wipf & Stock, 2010), 528. “So to love [God] is to love liberation and justice and that’ s the same things as to love your neighbor. To love God, then, is to love love. And therefore it’s logical that the second commandment should be very similar to the first one.”
[17] Placher, Mark, 175. Verses leading up to the Leviticus quotation should be considered in defining ethical action of love toward the neighbor, “Maximizing profit at all costs and cutting corners are contrary to love of neighbor.”
Psalm 104:1, 25: Bless Abba God, O my soul; O my God, how excellent is your greatness! You are clothed with majesty and splendor. O Abba God, how manifold are your works! In wisdom you have made them all; the earth is full of your creatures.
Introduction
The clear and overarching question for Mark and Mark’s audience: “What does it mean to be a disciple of this man who is God, Jesus the Christ?” As we make our way through the Gospel of Mark, we see Mark’s proposed answer to this question encompasses more and more of the disciple’s lives. If the disciples thought it was about following this teacher and being taught some cool things about God, they needed to think again. Jesus has been redefining their lives from the heart outward; to drop their nets and follow Jesus means to take on a deep and abiding similarity (inside and out) to this man who is the Son of God and the Son of Humanity. Moment by moment, Mark’s Jesus is molding and shaping, preparing and forming his disciples (in mind and body) to be as him—Jesus the Christ—in the world when he leaves them so that God’s revolutionary mission of love, life, and liberation continues from one generation to the next, from one nation to the next, from one person to the next.
The most stressed aspect of discipleship in Mark’s gospel is that the disciples cannot keep/allow themselves to think according to the common sense of the kingdom of humanity. If we slow down and pay attention to what Jesus has been doing all these many weeks—since chapter 7—this focus of Jesus reveals itself as the controlling narrative for the disciples and discipleship. Time and again, Jesus takes the time and space to educate (reeducate?) these disciples who are “following the way”—Jesus’s disciples, in Mark, are always “on the way”. He goes to great lengths to teach them that (truly) they will walk, talk, act, and be different in the world. For Jesus, the reign of God cannot and will not tolerate the enmity and hostility, the division and separation, the boundaries and borders, the oppression and marginalization that thrives in the kingdom of humanity. To be Jesus’s followers, according to Mark, means to be those who are as Christ in the world, who drink from the cup that he drinks and are baptized with his baptism.
Mark 10:35-45
And then Jesus called to himself the Twelve and says to them, “You have known that the ones who seem to rule the Gentiles over power them and their great-ones exercise authority over them. But it is not like this among you. Rather, they who wish to become great among you will be your servant; and they who wish to be first, will be slave of all people. For the Son of Humanity came not to be served but to serve and to give his self [as a] ransom on behalf of many people.” (Mk. 10:42-45)[1]
Chapter 10 of Mark’s gospel brings us closer to Jesus’s death; time is running out, and the disciples still need to learn what it means to be of the of the earth and in God.[2] Remember that Mark’s gospel is written with speed, it sounds fast. Mark peppers his text with the introductory “καί”, “And then…” It gives the reader/listener the impression of time sensitivity. And our passage for this Sunday opens with another introductory “καί” that follows (another) segment of Jesus (pulling aside the Twelve and) telling them what will happen once they get to Jerusalem[3]: he, the Son of Humanity, will be handed over, tortured, killed, and (then) after three days he will rise again. And, like, immediately, the disciples reveal that they really👏just 👏don’t👏get👏it👏 None of what Jesus just said registered; they’re stuck in the thinking of the kingdom of humanity, convinced that Jesus will be entering into material glory and triumph,[4] and that they, too, will reap from those rewards.[5] They’re not entirely wrong; they will reap something but not what they are imagining.[6]
Enter James and John and another discussion about status.[7] These two, immediately, corner Jesus—pulling him away from the others—and they ask him for a very self-centered request (and they know it because of their round about approach to asking: Teacher, we wish that you might do for us whatever [if] we might ask you…). Jesus (kindly) responds, What do you wish I might do for you? And they reply, Please give to us that one might sit down of your right hand and one of [your] left hand [when you enter] into your [royal[8],[9]] glory. As bold as they were, Jesus was just as bold. You have not perceived what you ask; are you able to drink the wine cup which I, Idrink or to be baptized with the baptism which I, I am baptized?
Here, Mark infuses Jesus words with two important images for the community to whom he writes. Mark’s community is under threat of persecution (thus the rapid flow of the text: this community may not have a lot of time), and the role that baptism (Greek: submersion partly unto death[10]) and the cup of wine (of the new covenant made through Christ’s shed blood and judgment[11]) play as sacramental images reminding these disciples that, yes, they participate and live in God, and that also, yes, they are under threat for who they are (followers of Christ).[12] In and through Jesus, Mark is, essentially, pastorally comforting this community who—in their own baptisms and cup participation—have echoed James and John’s courageous and loyal,[13]We are able. But unlike James and John, Mark’s community did know what they were signing up for when they entered, by faith, the community of the followers of the way.[14]
Jesus’s reply to James and John affirms the community’s experience and reassures them that he is present with them, The wine cup which I, I drink you will drink and with the baptism which I, I am being baptized you will be baptized. But to sit down of my right and or of my left hand is not mine to give but [is] for the one for whom it is prepared. While our minds go to the two thieves on their own crosses, one on the left and one on the right of Jesus, or, according to Mark, “two rebels” (15:27), we must see the pastoral implications for Mark’s community: Jesus goes into heavenly glory through death on the cross and into the new life of resurrection identifying with those who suffer and are grieved for their well-being and safety, those who are afraid to be out in public as they are[15]—this is about identification and solidarity and not about favors and gifts bestowed by an earthly king to his loyal followers.[16] Without making suffering a virtue (because you can’t earn this place by suffering[17]) or sacrament (by which people are forced to suffer to be holy and pleasing to God), Mark is telling his community, As those who are baptized in the baptism of Jesus and those who drink of the cup of Christ, Jesus is with you and you are (yesterday, today, and tomorrow[18]) already in the warm light of his heavenly glory for it is he who has the last word of life and not your suffering even unto death.[19]
Mark isn’t finished. Apparently, the other disciples take notice of what is going on: And then after hearing, [the other disciples] began to be incensed about James and John. Why are they “incensed”[20]? Not because James and John asked for such a bold request, but that James and John beat them to the punch. [21] All the disciples are sharing the same kingdom of humanity views about status and glory. [22] We know this because Jesus immediately called them [all] to himself and determines to teach them, yet again, about the divine equity that qualifies those who live by the (very revolutionary[23]) expectations of the reign of God.[24] According to Jesus, those who follow him (those who are to be baptized with his same baptism and drink from the same cup) will not be like the tyrants and oppressors[25] of the kingdom of humanity: You have perceived, Jesus says to the disciples, that the ones who appear to rule the Gentiles overpower them and their great-ones exercise authority over them. But it is not like this among you. Rather, they who wish to become great among you will be your servant; and they who wish to be first, will be slave of all people. For the Son of Humanity came not to be served but to serve and to give his self [as a] ransom on behalf of many people.
Conclusion
The truly revolutionary aspect of the mission of God in the world just dropped on the disciples like a bomb; their minds explode.[26] What Jesus is asking them to do isn’t just to be nice to other people including those of low status, but to literally take on a radical posture of service and obligation toward others especially those low in status.[27] In other words, just as Jesus[28] identifies with the least of these and will do so until he dies, so, too, will the disciples[29] identify with those who are least. Their road is not a road of material glory but of heavenly glory defined by God’s revolutionary action in the world in Christ and by the power of the Holy Spirit. Where the kingdom of humanity says it is great to be served, to be feared, to be respected, to be rich, to be great, those of the reign of God say[30]: blessed are the poor, blessed are those who grieve, blessed are those who are reviled, blessed are the oppressed, marginalized, ostracized, outcast…because in their midst where God and God’s love is manifest in substance and action of the community bearing Christ’s name. In other words, where those who represent God in Christ are, there God is, there is divine love, life, and liberation. When the kingdom of humanity argues about greatness, the disciples of Christ—those baptized into and who drink from the wine-cup of the new covenant of the reign of God—go in the opposite direction: they love where there is indifference, liberate where there is captivity, bring life where there is death, serve those denied service, and see the power of peace of divine equity that triumphs over the security manufactured by the kingdom of humanity. In other words, the followers of Christ participate in the mission of God in the world to keep human life human[31], all the way down.
[2] William C. Placher, Mark, Belief: A Theological Commentary on the Bible, eds Amy Plantinga Pauw and William C. Placher. (Louisville: WJK, 2010), 150. In this portion of text, “Jesus is going to his fate.”
[3] 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), 414. “The previous passion predications have each been followed by an example of the disciples’ failure to grasp Jesus’ new scale of values and by consequent remedial teaching.”
[4] France, Mark, 416. “As Jesus has used the title ὁ θἱος τοῦ ἀνθρώπουfor himself, his disciples have grasped its royal connotations and can envisage a time when it will be fulfilled for Jesus….and therefore also for his faithful followers.”
[5] Placher, Mark, 150. “Now, shortly before they reach Jerusalem itself, two of the disciples manifest the last and perhaps most dramatic of Mark’s many cases of disciple misunderstandings. They still think that Jesus is headed for glory and triumph, and they want the positions of greatest prominence, at his right and left hand. They have understood neither the egalitarian character of the new community nor the suffering that aways Jesus. He challenges them on both counts.”
[6] Placher, Mark, 150. “Are they ready to suffer what he will suffer?”
[7] France, Mark, 414. “The issue of status is thus yet again brought to tour attention, with James and John as the negative examples. The setting of their request, with its presumption that Jesus is on the way to ‘glory’, is remarkable, following immediately after the most ominous and detailed of Jesus’ a passion predictions.”
[8] France, Mark, 414. “To speak of sitting…on the right (or left) of someone implies royal throne with the places of highest honour on either side; there are of course only two such places, leaving no room for Peter.”
[9] France, Mark, 415. “The request, precipitated perhaps by the excitement of coming near Jerusalem, the ‘royal’ city, assumes that Jesus, as ‘king’, has positions of honour and influence in his gift.”
[10] France, Mark, 417. “…in the narrative context we must suppose that Jesus has coined a remarkable new metaphor, drawing on his disciples’ familiarity with the dramatic physical act of John’s baptism, but using it…to depict the suffering and death into which he was soon to be ‘plunged.’”
[11] France, Mark, 416. FT image of Cup can be of blessing but more often of judgment.
[12] Placher, Mark, 150. “He uses two images—to be baptized, and to drink the cup. ‘Baptized’ in Greek can also mean ‘flooded with calamities,’ and the image is of an immersion that is partway toward drowning. The cup, as Jesus will soon explain to them, is the cup of his blood. Thus the images are both symbols of sacraments and symbols of threats, and this was appropriate to the church of Mark’s time, where joining the Christian community or participating in Christian worship did risk torture and death.”
[13] France, Mark, 417. “[James and John] may lack understanding, but not loyalty or courage.”
[14] Placher, Mark, 150-151. “Do they know what they are promising? Probably not. It is a common human experience to discover we have assigned on for more than we realized or intended. Sometimes that discovery comes with panic and the need to escape, but sometimes we are grateful in retrospect for the veil that hid from us a destination we would not have had the courage for at the time.”
[15] France, Mark, 418. The “for whom” it is being prepared will not include those who are expected but the unexpected, like those of low status.
[16] France, Mark, 414. “But in the end v. 40 undermines the whole premise on which their request was based, that status in the kingdom of God can be bestowed as a favour, or even earned by loyalty and self-sacrifice.”
[17] France, Mark, 417. “…even if they fulfill the ‘conditions’ he has set down, their request still cannot be granted. The cup and the baptism thus prove not to be qualifying conditions at all, but rather a way of indicating that their whole conception of δόξα and of the way it is to be achieved is misguided.”
[18] France, Mark, 416. “For Jesus the route to glory is clear; it is by way of the ποτήριον and the βάπτισμα which await him…and anyone who wishes to share the glory must first also share those experiences.”
[20] Placher, Mark, 151. “The others among the Twelve hear that James and John have been lobbying for privileged positions, and they are angry. Again, Jesus explains the nature of the new community he is creating.”
[21] France, Mark, 418. “…their annoyance is not over the ambition of the two brothers as such, but over the fact that they have got in first and tried to gain an unfair advantage over their colleagues in the competition for the highest places. On this issue they are all equally at fault.”
[22] France, Mark, 414. “…moreover, the other disciples seem to share [James and John’s] perspective, and Jesus responds with the most thoroughgoing statement yet of the revolutionary values of the Kingdom of God.”
[23] France, Mark, 415. “…v. 43a now offers a further ‘slogan’ which encapsulates the revolutionary effect of his teaching about the kingdom of God…”
[24] France, Mark, 414. “The second section (vv. 41-45) picks up the theme of 9:35 and again subverts the whole notion of leadership and importance which human society takes for granted.”
[25] France, Mark, 419. v. 42 kata terms, “…convey the oppressive and uncontrolled exploitation of power, the flaunting of authority rather than its benevolent exercise.”
[26] France, Mark, 415. “The ‘natural’ assumptions and valuations by which people operate no longer apply in the kingdom of God. it is a genuinely alternative society.”
[27] France, Mark, 419. v. 43a “…sums up the revolutionary ethics of the kingdom of God. the natural expectations of society are reversed, and leadership is characterized by service, by being under the authority of others, like a διάκονος or δοῦλος. Nor is this just a matter of recognising a higher rank within a recognizes hierarchy: it is to everyone…that precedence must be given.”
[28] France, Mark, 419. Son of humanity in v. 45 “…provides the supreme model of status reversal in that he whose destiny it was διακονηθῆναι…was instead to become πάντων διἀκονος.”
[29] France, Mark, 419. “[διακονέω] does not denote a particular role, but rather the paradoxically subordinate status of the one who should have enjoyed the service of others. The following καὶ δοῦναι does not so much specify the form of service, but rather adds a further and yet more shocking example of this self-sacrificing attitude which he in turn enjoins on his followers.”
[30] France, Mark, 421. “It is not the λύτρον ἀντὶ πολλῶν that they are expected to reproduce: that was Jesus’ unique mission. But the spirit of service and self-sacrifice, the priority given to the needs of the πολλοί, are for all disciples. They, too, must serve rather than be served, and it may be that some of them will be called upon, like James and John, to give up their lives. There is no room for quarrels about τίς μείζων.”
Psalm 26:3, 11-12 For your love, Abba God, is before my eyes; I have walked faithfully with you. As for me, I will live with integrity; redeem me, Abba God, and have pity on me. My foot stands on level ground; in the full assembly I will bless the Lord.
Introduction
As of last week, we have identified clearly what the overarching question is for Mark and Mark’s audience: what does it mean to be a disciple of this man who is God, Jesus the Christ? What does it mean to be a believer who participates in the mission of the reign of God, bringing love, life, and liberation to the neighbor to the glory of God in the name of Christ and by the power of the Holy Spirit?
We’ve seen Jesus redefine clean and unclean, who is in and who is out, who is elevated and who is not, and who is to be hindered and who is not. Over the past four weeks, we’ve watched Jesus systematically pull down barriers and divisions, walls and fences geared toward dividing and isolating God’s beloved into factions pitted one against the other. Here we see the fractures mentioned way back in Genesis 3 rearing their violent and deadly heads. In that passage, the story goes, God cursed Adam, Eve, and the serpent and their relationships went wonky, turning upside down; where there was once equity and unity, there would be inequity and disunity; where there was once justice and peace, there would be injustice and hostility. The original bondedness articulated in Genesis 1 and 2—God and Humanity, Humanity and Humanity, Humanity and Creation—falls fractured on its way out of the Garden of Eden. Considering the poor judgment demonstrated by everyone in the Genesis 3 narrative, the three relationships are pulled apart. Now it is no longer Humanity and God, but Humanity verse God; no longer Humanity and Humanity, but Humanity against Humanity; no longer Humanity and Creation, but Humanity in opposition to Creation.
So, what we see thus far in the gospel of Mark is Jesus rectifying this separation and division, this enmity and animosity that festered long enough within these three relationships. Instead of pulling apart, Jesus is pulling together. Rather than dividing, Jesus is creating unity. Rather than pitting against each other, Jesus is reconciling and causing equity and justice thus peace. In other words, Jesus is reinforcing the grand idea that …
Mark 10:2-12
“…what God has joined together, let no one separate.” (Mark10:9)[1]
The main thrust of Mark’s gospel is, as was mentioned last week, discipleship. The disciples are in process of learning (again and again) that their thinking is stuck in the kingdom of humanity rather than being of the reign of God. The thinking of the reign of God is cosmically and inclusively bigger than they can imagine on their own. So, Jesus teaches them. And, in our gospel passage addressing divorce there’s still an emphasis on discipleship. Opposed to the Mosaic permissiveness of divorce, Jesus speaks against it because it is “nothing more than a devious form of adultery.”[2] At this time, for Jesus and his disciples, a Jewish man took divorce for granted while Jewish women could not divorce.[3] A husband could divorce his wife for any reason, from sexual misconduct to a poorly cooked meal.[4] Jesus will expect the disciples to take a different path concerning their own marriages; just because the world may say it’s okay to ditch your wife for one reason or another, but I say…do not divorce. Discipleship, for Mark’s Jesus, is a full life affair; every relationship matters. For Jesus, the issue is not divorce (full stop) but the force at play behind it: hardness of heart; the disciples are expected to reevaluate their relationship with what they consider to be right and good—what the kingdom of humanity judges as good and right.[5]
Interestingly, in the passage, there is a difference between the verb used by Jesus (eveteilato, “command”, v.3) and the one used by the Pharisees (epayroton, “allowed”, v.4);[6] this indicates two things: 1) The ability to divorce is not upheld by Law but rather is a “concession” because of their hardness of heart (v.5; divorce is “allowed” and not “commanded”);[7] and, 2) There is something more important than the Mosaic permission: Genesis 2:24 (vv.7-8). One important aspect of Jesus exegeting Genesis 2:24 is his emphasis on (reestablishing of) the one-flesh aspect of the marital union.[8] But there’s more to that because Genesis 2 isn’t strictly about marriage; it’s about the union of humanity with humanity. To toss another human being away because of some form of persnickety displeasure participates in the perpetuation of the fracturedness of human relationships; human beings cannot be tossed away like refuse. Rather they are to be loved as one would even love themselves. And more than that, dismissing one’s wife “just cuz” exposes one’s fractured relationship with God that is characteristic of the judgments and pleasures of the kingdom of humanity. Again, hardness of heart is the issue; the disciples are to live vulnerably with the other, fleshy hearted and all. Jesus concludes with a pronouncement, “Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate” (v.9). The concluding pronouncement suggests that those who enter the reign of God will live in light of another vision, a vision that sees relationships (with all people, but most especially with those of lower status) in light of God’s mission of the divine revolution of love, life, liberation.[9]
Privately to the disciples Jesus forbids remarriage for both the husband and the wife. “And he said to them, ‘Whoever divorces his wife and marries another commits adultery against her, and if she divorces her husband and marries another, she commits adultery.’” According to one scholar, “Jewish divorce was specifically with a view to remarriage: the certificate given to the divorced wife read, ‘You are free to marry any man’ (m. Git. 9:3).”[10] Jesus holds a rather uncompromising view; but it doesn’t mean one can’t divorce but that one can’t remarry. And if one can’t remarry—if she can’t remarry for her own livelihood—then it is better not to divorce and stick it out because it is for the wellbeing of another.[11] Again, the light is focused on the main point: hardness of heart.
Conclusion
If we look to Mark 10:2-12 trying to find loopholes in what Jesus says to allow for remarriage or to make the claim that divorce is never allowed in any circumstance, it misses the reality that Jesus is taking a moment to teach his disciples what it means to be human in the world where they are the epicenter of the kingdom of humanity and the reign of God. Hurting human beings in a hurting world hurt each other in grievous ways. In our passage, Jesus forbids divorce and remarriage. And this must be reconciled with the fact that Jesus’s death was for our transgressions and his resurrection was for our justification (Rom. 4:25). While we don’t use the forgiveness of sin to justify things like divorce thus make them common lacking gravity, the reality is that at times there are irreconcilable differences between people, even those who are bonded by the vows of marriage.
But to focus strictly on the “marriage” and “divorce” aspect of this teaching is to miss the point: human beings do not dismiss human beings. Rather, according to Mark’s Jesus, human beings—with a desire to be human—will identify with those with whom they have relationships and be eager to do the best by them that they can. Being a disciple doesn’t mean we don’t, can’t, or won’t call a relationship what it is especially when it’s run its course or has become harmful to everyone involved. To be a disciple is to make sure that we take all our actions seriously and see how they impact others. Disciples, according to Jesus, live a deeply transfigured, vulnerable, connected life with each other… The thing that is forbidden here in this passage is a disciple of Christ dismissing someone as if they weren’t part of the reign of God or as if they didn’t count because of their status. The other thing that is forbidden is pulling apart, dividing, and sundering what God has put together: human beings with other human beings because human beings need each other and the intimacy of that relationship of mutual need. In other words, people aren’t to be tossed away like discarded things tossed into the refuse. Rather, the disciples are to pull together when everyone else is pulling apart, no matter who they are. Everyone the disciple is in a relationship with is to be esteemed in the reign of God, treated with equity, given justice, and have access to real and everlasting peace of Christ.
[1] Because of some of my own chaos and subsequent gaffs, this week’s gospel passage and all subsequent quotations from the assigned gospel text (Mark 10:2-12) are not translated by me but, rather, taken from the NRSVUE version from www.biblegateway.com *sheepish grin #lyfåehappens
[2] Richard Hays, The Moral Vision of the New Testament: A Contemporary Introduction to New Testament Ethics, (New York: Harper, 2013), 350.
[3] William C. Placher, Mark, Belief: A Theological Commentary on the Bible, eds Amy Plantinga Pauw and William C. Placher. (Louisville: WJK, 2010), 140.
[5] Hays, Moral Vision, 350. “Divorce is a sign of hardness of heart; those who follow Jesus are called to a higher standard of permanent faithfulness in marriage…”
[6] Mark 10:2-4, “And Pharisees came up and in order to test him asked, ‘Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife?’ He answered them, ‘What did Moses command you?’They said, ‘Moses allowed a man to write a certificate of divorce and to send her away.’”
[7] Hays, Moral Vision, 350. “Those who trust in God as revealed through Jesus will not seek such an escape clause from their marriages.…and for those who believe, hardness of heart [a lack of faith in Christ] can be overcome.”
[8] Hays, Moral Vision, 350-1. “…Jesus’ exegetical comment on Genesis 2:24…reiterates the ‘one flesh’ affirmation. Sexual intercourse in marriage is not merely the satisfaction of individual appetites…but links two persons together—literally and spiritually. It effects what it symbolizes and symbolizes what it effects.”
Psalm 124:6-7 Blessed be Abba God! … We have escaped like a bird from the snare of the fowler; the snare is broken, and we have escaped. Our help is in the Name of Abba God…
Introduction
Over the course of the past few weeks, we’ve seen Jesus defend his disciples from the offense of unclean hands; it’s not what goes into a person that makes them clean or unclean, but what comes out (it’s a heart issue). We’ve seen Jesus break socio-religio-political boundaries by including an unclean, gentile woman in God’s mission and reign in the world. And last week, we saw Jesus reorient the disciples toward the mission of God and away from the ideologies and dogmas of humanity thriving off notions of human power and might: to be great in the reign of God is to identify with those who have no status or power in your society; in other words it means: to be human. Throughout all these stories, there’s a common thread: discipleship.
According to Mark, to follow Jesus out of the Jordan and to the cross demands a rather radical overhaul of both the believer’s inner and outer life. It’s not about obeying traditionalisms and arcane laws long expired only rendering the outside “clean”; it’s not about boundaries and political lines keeping some in and some out; and it’s not about greatness defined by humanity’s preferential option for status. (These things perpetuate the mythologies of the kingdom of humanity serving only those who are powerful while enslaving those who are not.) Discipleship is about having/receiving a new heart, new mind, new eyes, new ears, new language, and new actions. The disciple of Christ, like Christ, must endure being the epicenter of the conflict of the reign of God being born into the world fracturing the kingdom of humanity and putting things that are upside down, right-side up.
Mark’s Jesus hammers home that discipleship is not/never about dividing lines, in-group and out-group, us v. them; none of that divisionary thinking can exist among the disciples or within each disciple. The mission and reign of God is much bigger (and better) than anyone—yesterday, today, and tomorrow—can or will imagine. The thinking that belongs to the kingdom of humanity is small and divisive; for the disciples, they must think in line with the reign of God: big…cosmically and inclusively big.
Mark 9:38-50
And then John said to [Jesus], “Teacher, we saw someone casting out demons in your name and were [unsuccessfully[1]] preventing him because he was not following us.” But Jesus said, “Do not prevent him, for no one—who will do a powerful work in my name—is also able to revile me quickly. For whoever is not against us, [is] for us. For whoever might give you a winecup of water because the name that you are of Christ, truly I say to you, by no means will they lose their reward.” (Mk 9:38-41)
Structurally, there’s no indication in the text that this moment is separated from where we left off last week. Thus, we can assume the same posture: Jesus is down low, the disciples are gathered around him, and a little child is in their midst. And then John speaks, “Teacher, we saw someone casting out demons in your name and we were preventing him because he was not following us.” With this statement, it’s clear that the disciples still[2] don’t understand what it means to be disciples in the reign of God and of Christ.[3] The in-group/out-group way of thinking runs deep in the inner (and outer) lives of the disciples. When it comes to Christ, all traditional conceptions of human groupings are called into question.[4] So, the way Jesus replies to the group continues his teaching the disciples what the reign and mission of God (really) is about: It is completely inclusive and it promotes equity. The disciples need a more “welcoming [and open]” mindset[5] toward people who were not following them—which is the real offense for John;[6] anyone who is participating in the reign and mission of God in Christ’s name should not be hindered.[7] In other words, the ability to cast out demons in Jesus’s name[8] (which the Twelve failed at recently[9]) isn’t restricted to some special authority and status[10] the Twelve think they have because of their proximity to Jesus.[11]
Interestingly, when Jesus says, “Do not prevent him, for no one—who will do a powerful work in my name—is also able to revile me quickly. For whoever is not against us, [is] for us. For whoever might give you a winecup of water because the name that you are of Christ, truly I say to you, that by no means they might lose their reward.”, he’s not only broadening the mindset of the disciples, he’s (also) giving three reasons[12] why the disciples need not to be exclusive.
The man is not an enemy; he’s performing exorcism in Jesus’s name thus associating himself with Jesus. Because of this association he will not be able to speak ill quickly of Jesus (et al);[13]
Because of the in-group/out-group mentality expressed in John’s comments to Jesus, Jesus immediately stops cliquishness; it doesn’t belong to the reign of God;[14] and,
The disciples should be kind; simple, kind acts done for those who bear Jesus’sname(i.e. giving a winecup of water) are significant and will be noticed[15] because it is service to Jesus, thus to God. Thus, they are actually with us (ὑπὲρ ἡμῶν) (pace John).[16]
In this way, anything done in the name of Christ and for those who bear Christ’s name is enough;[17] no further demonstration of belonging is needed.[18] In light of this deduction, Jesus exhorts the disciples not to be so prideful[19] that they quickly draw lines in the sand organizing who’s in and who’s out, “They are to be a church, not a sect.”[20]
Jesus then discusses causingone of these little ones (potentially drawing upon the image of the child in their midst and broadening it to thosewho believe in [Jesus] and can be taken advantage of[21]) to stumble; Jesus emphasizes, from a different angle, the dangers of the aforementioned “cliquishness” and elitism.[22] Each of the four sayings does not really offering anything more novel than the one before it except that the focus moves from causing someoneelse to stumble to causing one’s own self to stumble. All four sayings work together emphasizing how bad it is to get in the way of God’s Spirit at work in the world to bolster one’s human ideas of exclusion and inequality. Unlike the person who gives a cup of water to the followers, the person who causes someone to stumble deserves the opposite of reward. According to Mark’s Jesus, the one who causes another to stumble will be thrown into Gehenna known for “punishment of the ungodly,”[23] into the flames of the unquenchable fires (in Gehenna the fires burned continually because it was Jerusalem’s garbage dump[24],[25]) and where their worm does not die (ref. to Isaiah[26]). Through these intense images, Jesus exhorts his disciples to be alert and awake because threats lurk outside and within themselves.[27] Therefore, the disciples are exhorted to deal shrewdly with themselves rather than others because—most likely—the problem isn’t the hand, eye, foot, or someone else; it’s the heart[28] and its ability to be held captive to the kingdom of humanity because of pride, a desire for greatness, and status. Rather, the disciples are to be utterly committed to God[29] and God’s reign and mission in the world; this, so they can participate in God’s mission of justice and equity (which is peace[30]) as the beautiful, fragrant, salted sacrifices they are for the well-being of the neighbor and to the glory of God.[31]
Conclusion
Jesus is going to great lengths to make sure his disciples understand that the reign of God is nothing like the kingdom of humanity. God isn’t against humanity, in fact, according to Jesus and Paul Lehmann (quoted last week), God is about humanity, so much so that God transcended God’s self and became human. This was done to elevate humanity above what humanity was/is willing to settle for. And, frankly, that’s the problem with the kingdom of humanity: it regularly settles for lessthan. Jesus doesn’t want his disciples consumed with notions of greatness, privilege, power, and authority; these things make human beings less human. Jesus wants his disciples to see that their humanity is anchored to their dependence on God by faith in Jesus. The world, for Jesus, needs more simple, vulnerable human beings, not more dictators and despots.
The disciples are to always choose humanity over inhumanity; this is what it means to be dedicated to and participate in God’s mission and revolution of love, life, and liberation. Thus, what keeps the disciples human is taking seriously their role as representatives of God in the world and among their neighbors. Here, our faith in Christ and our dependence on God works itself out in Spirit-filled, loving action toward the neighbor to the glory of God. Remembering whom we follow and whose we are, keeps us dependent and responsible on and to God as well as on and to our neighbor. In this divine economy, there is no elitism and division, but only equity and unity, thus peace and justice. Dorothee Sölle writes,
“The love of which the Gospel speaks is simply the radical intervention of one irreplaceable being for another; an identification which is provisional and which makes its agent dependent. Christ identified himself with God and thereby made himself dependent on God’s attaining identity himself. Anyone who identifies himself with Christ likewise represents God in the world, in suffering and in transitoriness.”[32]
The disciples mistakenly divided by who has authority and who doesn’t, who was following the right dogma and who wasn’t; Jesus set them straight: whoever is representing me in the world through deeds of love, life, and liberation, is representing God and is participating in God’s mission. They who have ears to hear, let them hear.
[1] 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), 376. “if the imperfect tense of ἐκωλύομεν is correct …it probably indicates an unsuccessful attempt rather than the repeated prohibition of a persistent ‘offender’.”
[2] William C. Placher, Mark, Belief: A Theological Commentary on the Bible, eds Amy Plantinga Pauw and William C. Placher. (Louisville: WJK, 2010), 135. “The Twelve make one mistake after another.”
[3] France, Mark, 375. “This little didactic story follows very appropriately form the lesson of vv. 33-37, the call to disciples to be ready to receive those whom they might naturally reject, and the connections is reinforced by the repetition three times in these verse of the phrase ἐπὶ/ἐν τῷ ὀνόματί μου/σου … which was the reason given for receiving the child in v. 37.”
[4] France, Mark, 375. “Where the name of Jesus (i.e., a relationship with him) is concerned, natural human considerations of who is in and who is out will be subverted.”
[5] France, Mark, 376. “The effect of the pericope is to encourage a welcoming openness on the part of Jesus’ disciples which is in stark contrast to the protective exclusiveness more often associated with religious groups, not least within the Christian tradition.”
[6] France, Mark, 377. “The ground of John’s objection was not lack of success, but the use of Jesus’ name outside the group of disciples. The man’s offence is that οὐκ ἀκολουθεῖ ἡμῖν.”
[7] France, Mark, 376. “The man concerned is not a recognized member of the group of disciples, but he does profess to operate in the name of Jesus, and the results of his activity are beneficent. It is this criterion rather than a narrower group identity which the pericope accepts.”
[8] France, Mark, 376-377. “There is some other evidence in the gospels for exorcists outside the immediate circle of Jesus and his disciples…and there are a number of mentioned of exorcism, Jewish and pagan, in roughly contemporary sources…Some of them invoked the name of Jesus (after his death and resurrection), and not always with satisfactory results …This is the only mention of a similar practice during Jesus’ lifetime.”
[9] France, Mark, 376. “To make matters worse, this pericope follows hard on the story of the disciples’ failure in exorcism in 9:14-29. To see an outsider apparently succeeding where they, the chosen agents of Jesus, have failed is doubly distressing.”
[10] France, Mark, 377. What John is looking for is not so much personal allegiance and obedience to Jesus, but membership in the ‘authorised’ circle of his followers. We should perhaps understand ἡμεῖς here as specifically the Twelve, regarded as having an exclusive link with and commission from Jesus, so that other people’s association with him must be through their mediations. Even if such a possessive doctrine is not explicit, it fits John’s restrictive action and explains the terms of Jesus’ response.”
[11] France, Mark, 376. Exorcism as special feature of disciple/the twelve’s calling/authority (given by Jesus), “To find the practice carried out in the name of Jesus by someone unknown to them is therefore a severe blow to the disciples’ sense of identity, and undermines their special status. This issue of status, which underlay the teaching of vv. 33-37, is therefore still in focus.”
[13] France, Mark, 377. “has associated himself with [Jesus] by using his name, and his choice of that authority, together with the fact of his success, marks him as being on the right side. Such a person cannot in consistency go on to speak as his enemy, and so there is no justification of Jesus’ disciples to oppose him.”
[14] France, Mark, 378. , “The Cliquishness which too easily affects a defined group of people with a sense of mission is among the ‘worldly’ values which must be challenged in the name of the kingdom of God.”
[15] France, Mark, 378. In re “reward” for giving water, “But even so small an act betokens a person’s response to Jesus in the person of his disciples…, and as such will not be unnoticed.”
[17] Placher, Mark, 135. “The basic direction of Jesus’ response is clear enough—if people are doing good in Jesus’ name, leave them alone.”
[18] France, Mark, 378. “For Mark’s readers it is the title Χριστός which is the touchstone of a persons’ allegiance.”
[19] Placher, Mark, 135. “They are, it turns out, not making a new mistake but the same prideful, competitive ones. If someone is not part of their group, their gang, their tribe, then how dare he claim to do anything in the name of Jesus.”
[20] France, Mark, 378-379. “The three sayings collected in vv. 39-41 thus illustrate in different ways the open boundaries of the kingdom of God, where both committed disciple and sympathetic fellow traveler find their place. The unknown exorcist represents this outer circle, and is to be welcomed as such. There are indeed opponents and ‘outsiders’, as we see repeatedly in the rest of the gospel, but disciples are called on to be cautious in drawing lines of demarcation.
[21] France, Mark, 381. “As Mark’s text stands the question cannot be answered with confidence, but the context as a whole makes it unlikely that the μικροί should be understood only, or even mainly, of children. Disciples of any age are potentially vulnerable to such ‘tripping’.”
[22] France, Mark, 380. “The [following] whole little complex of sayings, like the preceding pericopes, focuses on the demands of discipleship both negatively and positively. The saying thus fit into the overall thrust of this part of the gospel, however artificially they may be linked with one another.”
[23] France, Mark, 381-382. ἡ γέεννα “…a term used in apocalyptic literature for the ultimate place of punishment of the ungodly…it had a clear and well known meaning (because of Matthew’s use}, so that its use alone would communicate adequately.”
[24] France, Mark, 382. Fire “as the agent of judgment and destruction, perhaps exploiting the origin of the word γέεννα in the valley of Hinnom…where the fires of Jerusalem’s refuse dumps burned continuously.”
[25] Placher, Mark, 137. “Gehenna was a valley south of Jerusalem where in ancient times babies were sacrificed to the Canaanite god Moloch. In the reforms under King Josiah (7th century BCE) such practices were brought to an end, and the area became a garbage dump, where refuse was continually smoldering. Gehenna was a horrible place, full of fire, smells, maggots, rats, and things in decay. Its history as a locus of child sacrifice further evokes the context here, where Jesus is singling out for condemnation hose who ‘put a stumbling block before’ or ‘trip up’ any of the ;’little ones who believe in me.’”
[26] France, Mark, 382. Worm statement, “In Isaiah the clause describes the state in which the dead bodies of God’s enemies will be seen, presumably envisaged as decomposing and burning on the battlefield.”
[27] France, Mark, 382-383. “Danger comes to the disciple not only from outside but from within…it is for the reader individually…to determine what aspect of one’s own behavior, tastes, or interests is a potential cause of spiritual downfall, and to take action accordingly.”
[28] Placher, Mark, 138. “But the hypotheticals, while true in themselves, rest on faulty premises. Our hands and feet and eyes do not cause us to sin. We ourselves, our minds, our souls, our wills—whatever language one wants to use, the source of our sin is not a part of us that can be removed with a sharp enough knife. The point of the passage, then, is to say, ‘this is how serous sin is: it would be worth cutting off part of your body to cure it. If only it were that easy. So we have to think even more deeply about sin.”
[29] France, Mark, 384. v. 49 and salt “In this context it speaks of one who follows Jesus as totally dedicated to god’s service, and warns that such dedication will inevitably be costly in terms of personal suffering.”
[30] France, Mark, 385. “The good salt which should characterize disciples consists in …or results in ….peaceful relationships. While salt as a metaphor for peacefulness is in itself an unusual use, in the OT salt symbolises a covenant…”
[31] France, Mark, 384. v. 50 symbolism of “salt” “…in symbolises the beneficial (καλόν) influence of the disciple on society…”
[32] Dorothee Sölle, Christ the Representative: An Essay in Theology after the ‘Death of God,’ translated by David Lewis (London: SCM, 1967), 142. Originally published as, Stellvertretung—Ein Kapitel Theologie nach dem ‘Tode Gottes,’ Kreuz Verlag, 1965. Emphasis, mine.
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