Bible Reference: Mark 8:31-38; Psalm 22:23-31
If the characters in Mark's gospel can be classified as disciples, then there's hope for us all! One
of the things I like about reading Mark is the fact that he doesn't hold back in telling about how
the disciples just don't get it. The scripture reading for today in which Jesus has to verbally
assault Peter to get his attention is only the first occasion in which Jesus tries to tell the disciples
about the mistreatment and death that will be his fate. Each of the three times he tries to do this,
(in chapters 8, 9, and 10) the disciples are off in "never-never land." They blow him off with
other business, or change the subject, or simply hold their hands over their ears, and say
"lalalalalalala, I'm not hearing you!" Certainly, this density on the disciples' part is not for Jesus' lack of clarity. His speech is
straightforward, matter-of-fact -- "You know what, guys? I'm going to undergo great suffering,
be rejected by the church in all its parts and by all its officers, be killed, and after three days rise
again." Well, all except for the resurrection part, which is today still difficult for us to
understand, the rest is not exactly hidden by obscure speech or tales of rapture. In chapter nine,
he clearly discusses his betrayal by a friend, and in ten he talks about being handed over to both
the religious and the secular authorities in Jerusalem and about being mocked, spit upon, flogged,
and killed. Although it makes us squirm to hear such things about to take place, one might think
that the disciples' minds would turn toward compassion, or at the very least toward curiosity.
How did Jesus know all this? How did Jesus feel about all this? Those at least would have been a
couple questions on my mind. But the disciples retreat into their fear. In chapter 8, Peter at least gets a taste for what's going on
because he's the one who rebukes Jesus for this kind of talk. What he said exactly, we don't
know, but I suspect he told Jesus that he was really getting the others down. Up to this point,
things had been pretty fun. There were healings, great meals, walking on water, and really deep
conversations. They'd been able to taunt the uppity-ups at the synagogue that seemed to have no
sense of humor. Why would Jesus start all this death talk right here in the open? They brought
enough attention on themselves when they did good things, why jinx it now? But, for whatever reason, Mark's gospel is clear that Jesus needed to talk about it. In fact Jesus
equates it with satanic or evil purposes that Peter tried to squelch this conversation. He seems
equally irritated in both other accounts that the disciples don't get it because it prompts quick
lessons on what it TRULY means to be a disciple, to be his follower. Jesus gets the last word
with these familiar sayings: "Take up your cross and follow me. One must lose their life in order
to save it. The first must be last. And, if you want to be great, you must be servant of all." He had
to remind them that it wasn't all fun and games about who gets to be his best friend, or in the
"in" crowd, or on his side in glory; it's about something far greater than that! One must be willing to risk his or her life in order to save it, and here Jesus is telling the disciples
how he's going to do just that. In his other analogies, remember that servants and slaves
frequently get mistreated and beaten, and those who come in last in our society don't measure up
to much. These are words the disciples did not want to hear. And when we're being honest,
they're words we don't want to hear either. We'd much rather be served than be a servant. We
want to be first, not last. We do everything we can to make our lives safe and secure rather than
take any of the risks Jesus is talking about. I'm afraid we'd be right there with the disciples,
changing the subject or putting a bucket over our heads. As I thought about this passage this week, a vision came to me of the noisemakers we use to ring
in the New Year. The tradition comes from an earlier era when people were superstitious about
time and thought there were certain times that evil spirits were more prone to enter the world.
The transition from one year to the next was one of those uncertain times, not quite one year, not
quite the other, so people used noises of all kinds to try to frighten the evil spirits away. People
gathered in crowds, yelled, shot off firecrackers -- anything they could to make themselves feel
more secure. Today we continue the tradition, but have we lost the superstition that goes along with it?
Perhaps deep down we are still afraid of that change -- year to year, generation to generation --
we are fearful that the evil spirits will come in and rearrange our world to an unrecognizable
state. We try to "noise" things up a bit that maybe no one will notice. So as our world gets noisier
and noisier, I wonder, are many of the "noises" present in our world today just glorified
distractions? Are they ways of steering ourselves away from those things we don't want to hear?
Things about change? Things about death? If Jesus were here telling us -- the world isn't
listening, the church isn't listening; they're going to mug me, and humiliate me, and kill me,
would we be able to hear above the din? Jesus does speak an almost unbearable word, and, like Mark's all-too-human disciples, we also
do our best to shut him out. Even as churches, and better yet, the popular media picks up on the
slogan, "What would Jesus do?" we have lost touch with what Jesus is DOING in each of our
lives right now. Jesus is taking those suffering, beaten, stricken down aspects of our lives, Jesus
is taking the last ones, the servants, the forgotten, Jesus is taking the powers and principalities
that threaten to kill us, and is instead offering us the gift of new life. Because…… in spite of all
these terrible, awful, no-good, very bad things that happen -- in Christ, those things do not have
the final word. And even as I worry about the fact that we try to clean up the dirty little parts of
the Jesus story, I have this sneaking suspicion that the even more difficult situation for us to hear
about than those things that will kill us, are those things that promise us new life. The things that are killing us are not unlike those noises we use to drown out the evil spirits. We
welcome those things that give us an excuse to gossip, or complain, or feel hopeless. We use our
noisy language of frustration to say that the world is an ugly place full of hate, and strife, and
jealousy, and bigotry. We rubberneck the accident victims, scavenge for someone else's bad
news, and get hooked on reality TV. We revel in the noisemakers, but forget that the New Year is
coming whether we can hear it or not. With each new year we get closer to a new beginning, and we discover that some strange spirit
has come in to rearrange our world to an unrecognizable state. But I have hope that the spirit
doing the rearranging is not evil, but is God's Spirit leading us into a new future, telling us that
whatever dies, in three days will rise again. Even here in Oak Ridge where scientific innovation
and discovery are embraced with open arms, there's a background noise that continues to hold
onto the past with incredible vigilance. As much as we appreciate the benefits of our new
technologies, we hold back fiercely to make sure that our world doesn't change too much. As in
Jesus' time frame, we can see on the horizon things that will make our children and
grandchildren's lives starkly different from our own, and yet we would hold them back if we
could, make their lives just a little more comfortable than our own, but keep them more or less
the same. Time seems to judge us harshly as one time period gives way to another. As Jesus said to Peter, we need to get out in front and quit cowering behind evil and all it's
noisiness. We must quit arguing about the human things, what we've done or haven't done. At
this point, those things are irrelevant. It's time to set our focus on the divine things, things that
ignore the noises, cut to the chase, and can be said openly. We need to trust like never before in
the promise of new life -- because that's a future promise, not a past promise. That's a promise
that God is going before us, not dragging us behind. God has gone so far as to rattle the gates of
hell. God laughs at death, and we should too. Our discipleship depends on it. So we must listen to Jesus' lessons when the competition of who's best and who's in or out starts
to drain our energy. It is there we will learn that discipleship is not a competition, but it is about
forming relationships, both relationships with God and with one another. In all those lessons,
people are renewed and saved not from anything they've done for themselves, but by what they
can do for others. From Chapter 8, "If any want to become my followers, let them deny
themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose
it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and the sake of the gospel, will save it." From
Chapter 9, "Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all." And as he took a
child in his arms, he also said, "Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me,
and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me." And finally from
Chapter 10, "……whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and
whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of Man came not to be
served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many." So as Jesus might have said, "Shut up and listen." In the midst of heartache and pain, there will
also be hope. Amen.