Sunday, February 25, 2024

On the way with Jesus (Lent 2)

Mark: The Urgent! Gospel
LENT 2 - NOW--we choose to trust
Mark 10:32-52


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As I said last Sunday, multiple times in my sermon,
following Jesus is hard.
Case in point, the first verse in today’s reading from Mark 10.
Let me read it again, v. 32
“They were on the road, going up to Jerusalem,
and Jesus was walking ahead of them;
they were amazed, and those who followed were afraid.”

They’re on a walk! On a well-traveled road.
Following Jesus, literally.
Jesus is walking ahead of them.
They are walking right behind.
And they are amazed.
And they are afraid.

Why is that?
Is Jesus’ walking too fast, his pace too hurried, too rushed,
they can’t keep up?
Could be. This is the urgent Gospel, after all.
And Jesus seems intent on getting to Jerusalem.

Well, I think in this case,
it’s simply the fact that he is walking toward Jerusalem.
That is not the direction his followers want to be walking.
It says, they are amazed and afraid.
And rightly so.

They are amazed that Jesus is purposely walking
toward the seat of the political and religious powers
that are right now trying to destroy him.
In Galilee, where they’ve been hanging out for a while,
he is mostly loved and adored.
But it’s the upper echelons of the hierarchy
in Jerusalem’s temple and palace,
who are threatened by Jesus, and are plotting to destroy him.
Those who follow Jesus are amazed he is choosing to go there.
And they are afraid, both for Jesus and for themselves.
But they are following anyway.
They are on the way with Jesus.

And Jesus keeps talking about the terrible things awaiting them.
Two or three times already, in our journey through Mark,
Jesus predicts his suffering and death.

And now he does it again, as they walk down the road together.
Here’s how I like to imagine it.
Jesus is hoofing it, almost race-walking,
and while panting from his cardio workout,
he twists his neck around to speak to his disciples,
who are trying their best to keep up,
and Jesus tells them, still walking,
in a whole series of short phrases,
inhaling between every phrase,
“Look [inhale] we are going up to Jerusalem [inhale]
and the Son of Man will be handed over [inhale]
to the chief priests and the scribes [inhale]
and they will condemn him to death [inhale]
then they will hand him over to the gentiles; [inhale]
they will mock him and spit upon him [inhale]
and flog him and kill him [inhale]
and after three days he will rise again.” [inhale]

Now, I don’t know if that’s how it came out of Jesus’ mouth,
but the choppy sentence structure in Mark,
makes it feel that way to me.

It’s not a big deal, really, but a quick aside, about the word “aside,”
that shows up in v. 32, in the NRSV and NIV and others.
It says Jesus “took the twelve aside.”

The Greek text doesn’t actually have that word—“aside.”
And many English translations don’t include it, either.
But some add it, I think,
to portray something the translators imagine,
of Jesus asking his disciples to huddle up for a while,
under a shade tree beside the road,
while they have this lengthy conversation.
The Greek word paralambanó (παραλαμβάνω) only means
that Jesus made sure they were near him,
not that he took them aside, or away to a quiet spot.

As I said, I like to imagine that Jesus talked to them on the road,
hurriedly and breathlessly,
because it fits the hurried mood of the Gospel.
And there’s nothing in the text that makes my imagination,
any less valid than the imagination of translators
who thought Jesus took a rest stop.

So . . . I invite you to imagine with me,
Jesus still hurrying down the road,
and his disciples—amazed and afraid—trying to keep up.
This makes the next verses all the more interesting.

Immediately after Jesus drops this verbal bomb on his disciples—
“I’m going to be executed by my enemies”—
James and John “come forward” to Jesus, Mark says in v. 35.

Coming forward, in my imaginary scene,
means they had to quicken their pace,
and start walking beside Jesus instead of behind him.
Probably one on either side of Jesus, right and left,
and they say, “Jesus, Teacher, do us a favor, will you?”
Jesus says, “What favor?”
“Well, when you come into your glory and sit on the throne,
let us sit beside you, in the place of honor,
one on the right, the other on the left.”

Talk about gutsy. And cheeky.
Their rabbi had just said he would suffer and die.
And their next move is to secure their own legacy.

Yes, James and John just confirmed it.
It’s hard to follow Jesus.
Hard to keep up with what’s happening.
Hard to know how to respond.
Hard to do what is actually required to be a disciple.
After James and John made this bold move,
Jesus gave them a straightforward and honest answer,
“You do not know what you are asking.”

Of course, this 3-way conversation at the front of the line,
happened with earshot of the ten bringing up the rear,
which, as you might imagine,
prompted a heated exchange among them.
After which, Jesus called to them, Mark said.

Maybe, still over his shoulder, he called out, [swivel left, call right]
“You’re acting like Gentiles!
They like to lord it over each other.
If you follow me, you will do it differently.
Whoever wishes to become great among you
must be your servant,
and whoever wishes to be first among you
must be slave of all.”

Then the hurrying toward Jerusalem continues, v. 46,
“They came to Jericho.
As he and his disciples and a large crowd were leaving Jericho…”
Hear that? Mark wastes no words.
They came to this big city.
And as they were leaving the city . . .
It’s like Mark wants us to know they walked into the city,
walked right through it without stopping,
and as they are walking out,
they pass by a blind beggar along the road.

Just seeing the beggar didn’t stop them.
But the blind man learned that the crowd rushing by
was being led by Jesus, and he started hollering, loudly,
“Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”
And people all around tried to shush him.
But he hollered all the louder, “Son of David, have mercy on me!”

Then, at long last, the urgent pace of Mark changes abruptly.
For the first time since they headed for Jerusalem,
Mark includes a stationary verb:
Jesus stood still.
After all these hours of hurried hiking,
Jesus stood still.

And he said, “Call him here.”
He didn’t turn and go to the man.
He stood still.
He directed other people to bring the man to him.
So the man, in contrast to the stationary Jesus,
threw off his cloak, and sprang up.
Don’t you love those action verbs? they’re sports verbs—
“threw . . . sprang . . . and came to Jesus.”

Jesus asked him, “What do you want me to do for you?”
The blind man said, “My teacher, let me see again.”
Jesus said, “Go; your faith has made you well.”
Immediately (Mark’s favorite word), he regained his sight.
And then what did he do?—v. 52—
he “followed him on the way.”

The formerly blind man joined the very crowd
that had been hurrying for hours, maybe days,
to keep up with Jesus on the road to Jerusalem.
_____________________

Good stuff here! Is Mark a great storyteller, or what?

But how do we bring it home? to where we live?
I’m sure there are any number of things in this story
that could speak to you.
So I hope you listen for those things, and go where they take you.

But here is where the story took me.
This seems to be about trust.
About faith, defined as trust.

There is a whole unknown and threatening world
that Jesus is leading his followers toward.
It’s in Jerusalem, and in Rome.
It is embodied by King Herod, Governor Pilate,
the High Priest, the Temple elite, and more.

They have every reason to fear that threat.
Staying as far away as possible makes sense for them and for Jesus.
But Jesus is going there,
and therefore, so do they.
These disciples may well be criticized
as bumbling and fearful and shortsighted at times.
But here, on the road to Jerusalem,
they are shining examples of faith,
of trust that Jesus is worth following,
even when following doesn’t make logical sense.
And yes, just so we don’t forget they are human,
there is this story thrown in
about them jockeying for position,
angling for the seat of honor.

But give them credit.
They are keeping up with Jesus
as he heads toward conflict and confrontation.

Where are we hesitant to follow Jesus?
What do we need in order to trust?
Where is the “Jerusalem,” today, that Jesus is hurrying toward,
and inviting us to follow him there?
Are we willing to follow?
Are we willing to trust?

I’m not so sure that “trust,” in this case,
means believing everything is going to turn out just fine.
I think trust means having the courage
to stay on the way with Jesus,
even without knowing what the end looks like.
It means living life with—if not a sense of rest—
at least a sense of purpose.
People living with purpose,
tend to be people who don’t lose themselves in fear and anxiety.

As we face
an increasingly dangerous world,
globally, nationally, and locally,
we still are given a purpose.
Stick with Jesus.
Go where Jesus is going.
Join in God’s healing and shalom project,
even when it looks hopeless,
even when it feels like we are putting our lives on the line.

Yes, we do often fall short, and will continue to do so.
So let us make our confession, together . . .

one God of steadfast love, you invite us to follow where you lead.
all We confess that we often hold back, 
for fear, for uncertainty, for an inability to trust.
one Give us courage to do your bidding, to go where you go.
all Deepen our courage, strengthen our faith, restore our trust.
[silence]
one The God of steadfast love promises to be with you always,
to extend grace, to forgive, to accompany, to comfort.

—Phil Kniss, February 25, 2024

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Sunday, February 18, 2024

The disciples are still perplexed (Lent 1)

Mark: The Urgent! Gospel
LENT 1 - NOW - we turn from riches
Mark 10:17-31

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It’s a common claim among Christians, almost a truism.
At least we feel it to be true, even if we never really question it.
And that claim is this: 
“We’re better off than the first disciples, 
because we know the rest of the story.”
You’ve heard that, right?

We know, now, that Jesus wasn’t really trying 
to take over the political throne of Herod.
We know, now, that the kingdom is a much bigger thing
than any earthly realm.
We know, now, that resurrection followed crucifixion.
We know, now, that the Holy Spirit is poured out on Jesus-followers,
and we have with us, eternally, the spirit of Jesus.
We now have the inspired epistles of the apostles, 
and these writings are to us, now, scripture.
We know so much more about the nature of Jesus 
and of the kingdom of God.
We know the end game.

So aren’t we glad we’re not in the position 
of Peter, James, and John, and company, 
who had to bumble along without knowing everything 
that we are now in a position to know?

In the Gospels, when we read that
the disciples innocently say something to Jesus 
that we know is silly or short-sighted, 
and we chuckle and give them a pass. 
Well, they just didn’t know what we know now.

Hmmm... 
Is following Jesus really easier today, knowing what we know?
Are we doing a better job 
of “getting Jesus” than they did?
of understanding who Jesus was? 
of knowing what he wanted of us as followers?
I don’t think so.

I think if we disciples today measured ourselves honestly 
against the disciples who walked with Jesus in Galilee, 
I think we would have to admit at least two things.
One – 
if we had been there with them, 
we would have done no better than they did.
Two – 
even today, with our fuller picture of Jesus, 
our attempts to follow Jesus are often 
even more anemic and bumbling than theirs.

But there’s no good reason to even compare or keep score.
No matter when, where, and in what cultural context, 
following Jesus is hard. Really hard.

So…take today’s Gospel reading.
What does it mean to “sell all and follow me”?
Why is it hard for the wealthy to enter the kingdom of God?
And what about “leaving everything” 
including house, mother, brother…”?

When Jesus said those things in Mark 10, it tells us, in verse 24,
“The disciples were perplexed at these words.”

If those words are just as confounding today,
and I think they are—
then I think it’s safe to say not much has changed since Mark.
The disciples are still perplexed.
_____________________

So what is the first step toward understanding 
how we might live out these teachings of Jesus today?
Maybe, it’s to think more deeply 
about what those words might have meant 
to the disciples that actually walked with Jesus in Galilee.
And maybe, even more importantly, 
what it might have meant to the Jesus followers 
who first heard this Gospel of Mark read to them, 
and for whom it was probably written.

If you recall, when I first introduced this book a little over a month ago,
there is a presumed origin story of this Gospel, 
and its social and political context.
Many scholars speculate that the Gospel took shape 
under the influence of the preaching of the apostle Peter, 
written down by Peter’s secretary and interpreter John Mark,
while both of them were residing in Rome, 
the capital city and center of political and military power 
for the Roman Empire.

And the time frame was somewhere around 65 AD, 
during the so-called Jewish-Roman War,
or more accurately, the Roman oppression,
and genocidal attack against the Jewish people, 
and the city of Jerusalem.
It wasn’t really a war between equal opponents.

And based on the kind of narrative details Mark includes—
or doesn’t include—
we can assume the intended audience are Gentile Roman citizens.

Now what would it have taken, do you suppose,
to persuade Gentile Roman citizens 
who were presumably living fairly secure lives,
to become devoted disciples of Jesus of Nazareth—
Jesus, the charismatic leader of a Jewish sect, 
who started a movement and got himself executed 
by Roman authorities in Jerusalem 
a few decades earlier, 
and whose followers were to this day being persecuted 
all over the Mediterranean world.
Put yourself in their shoes.
You are a protected citizen of the Roman Empire.

What would it take for you to jump ship, 
and declare you are now on the side 
of those your emperor is waging war against? 
And not just to join the Jewish cause in general, 
but specifically to join a Jewish sect, 
that even mainstream Judaism did not recognize or support.
Talk about making yourself vulnerable.
And just to add to that mess,
you’d be making yourself persona non grata, 
cutting yourself off from your neighbors, your family, 
your ability to earn a living.

What would it take for you, in that situation, 
to sign on as a Jesus-follower?

Those are the shoes we should put on, in our imagination,
when we delve into the Gospel of Mark.
Those are the imaginary shoes we should be wearing,
when we hear Jesus say to the young man 
who had many possessions—
“Go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, 
and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.”

And listen to these words, with the ears of a secure Roman citizen,
who enjoys social and financial security:
“How hard it is to enter the kingdom of God!
It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle 
than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.”

Yes, indeed. It would be hard for said Roman citizen,
to throw every security on the line, and follow Jesus.

And that part about leaving everything behind—
house and brothers and sisters and mother and father 
and children and fields for Jesus’ sake 
and for the sake of the good news?
Jesus is not exaggerating to make a point.
That is not a hypothetical situation.
That is literally what it would have meant,
for the first intended readers of the Gospel of Mark,
to say yes to Jesus.
They would have had to leave everything,
because following Jesus would have, by definition,
cut them off from their present lives.

Then Peter replies to Jesus,
“Look, we have left everything and followed you.” 
Of course, we remember that story where Peter and company
left their boats and nets and walked away.
I imagine that story got repeated a lot in Peter’s preaching,
as he made his way around the Roman Empire.
Not to build exalt himself or to boast.
But to encourage his listeners.
He knew very well that for them to join the Jesus movement,
would be just as much of a sacrifice.
So he’s saying,
“Many others, including myself, 
have already chosen this path.
And despite the cost, we highly recommend it.
The life you get in return is worth it all.”

Everything you give up, you will get back in return—
in this life and the next.
A hundred-fold, Mark says in v. 30,
a hundred times as many siblings and parents 
and households as you walked away from.

 This is a hard teaching, no?
The disciples are still perplexed.
I am still perplexed, to be perfectly honest.
It’s hard to know how to make this a Gospel word for my life.

I know how Christians today tend to work with these texts.
They take one of two approaches.

Either they take it quite literally,
and assume that true followers will indeed sell off everything,
and choose a life of poverty and communalism.
The model to emulate are monks and nuns 
who at least since the 5th century,
have been taking vows of poverty,
selling off all personal property,
and living in full community.

Or . . . they dismiss it as impractical for modern life and culture.
No, we aren’t expected to sell everything and live as paupers.
We are being asked to be good stewards, 
to be generous with what we have,
to share widely, and to put our wealth to good purposes.

Neither of those approaches impress me 
as capturing the heart of the Gospel,
the essence of what Jesus wants from us as disciples.

One makes the barrier so high,
that very few can reasonably say yes to Jesus.
The other makes it so low,
that saying yes to Jesus doesn’t really cost very much,
it just means you do good things in life.

I think the core of the message here
is that following Jesus is hard.
It does involve holding lightly
to those things that make us feel safe and secure—
an abundance of possessions,
financial wealth,
social respect and prestige,
spacious and comfortable and safe homes,
available time and resources for recreation and travel,
the things most of us strive for.

I’ll be honest.
All of that describes me.
And Mennonite pastors are not typically criticized
for their excessive wealth and leisure.

So the burden is on me, to continually ask myself,
whether my comfort, my security, my social position,
is making it difficult to say a clear “yes”
to going where Jesus is going, 
because that’s what following Jesus means—
going where Jesus is going.

Am I listening carefully, and seeing clearly,
where the Gospel of Jesus is moving in our world today?
And am I quick to find excuses not to go there,
because I can’t take the risk?
It might put my job and reputation on the line.
It might cut into my retirement fund,
or endanger my grandchildren’s inheritance.
Other people won’t understand or support me.

You know, I’m simply not going to speculate
for anyone in my hearing,
what it means for you to follow Jesus in your own context.
You’ll need to comes to terms with your own life and priorities,
and ask yourself the same question,
whether you are living with the courage of Peter,
and dropping your nets, your safety nets,
whatever those are for you,
and saying, yes, it’s worth the risk to lay these down,
and take the next step in following Jesus.

Following Jesus is more than being a morally good person.
To take Jesus seriously, still takes a lot of courage.
But be of good courage!
The securities you give up,
may just come back to you a hundred-fold.

Grace and peace to you all.

—Phil Kniss, February 18, 2024

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Sunday, February 11, 2024

Ready or not, here we come...together

Mark: The Urgent! Gospel
NOW - we take risks
Mark 8:27–9:8

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In the journey with Jesus, very little is guaranteed.
To be a Jesus follower, is to decide, by free choice,
to take on risk.
Yes, life itself is a risk.
But to choose to follow Jesus in life is to take on additional risk.

And why would people do this?
Because they are drawn, like a magnet,
to the life Jesus offers.
This is especially the case when we’re talking about
people for whom their current life is less than satisfying.
Which make perfect sense,
because people who are already on the margins,
are more likely to be willing to take on more risk,
than those who feel like they have more to lose.

But why is the Jesus way so fraught with risk?
Because it lives by a different set of values than the Empire,
whose systems of power rule this world.
The reign of God operates with different motivations.

To borrow a few lines from my sermon last Sunday,
Rather than deferring to those who have accumulated
wealth, power, and prestige,
God seems to move toward the margins.
God shows preferential care for the poor,
for those who are being told they are of little worth.
Jesus socializes with thieving tax collectors and scandalous women;
he touches lepers;
he challenges both religious and imperial powers.

We know where that way of living led Jesus—
into confrontation with the civil and religious powers,
and with those who benefitted from those powers.

So if we believe, as we say we do—
that the church is the body of Christ in the world today,
is the continuing presence of Jesus in society,
that it embodies the reign of God in our life together—
and . . . if we live like we believe that,
then we can expect some pretty stiff resistance,
some push back.

This resistance comes from outside the church—
from the powers of Empire that start feeling threatened
when a community of people embrace the marginalized,
and refuse to bow to existing power structures.

And it comes from within the church,
from those of us who have long cozied up to the powers,
and aren’t so interested in living on the edge.

And the resistance comes even from within ourselves,
because we, individually, benefit in many ways
from the exercise of coercive power,
because it tends to be a stabilizing force,
it holds in check the more threatening aspects of life.
None of us are really looking for chaos—
for instability and vulnerability and risk.

But the life of a follower of Jesus,
inherently carries more risk in the near term,
because we purposely embrace a way of life,
that by definition is vulnerable and open
and hospitable to the world around us.
And it goes against the posture of Empire,
which by definition is coercive,
and protective, and defensive,
and seeks stability above all else.
_____________________

This tug and pull between Empire and the way of Jesus
is what we see playing out in the Gospel reading today.
And the active resistance was both
outside the circle of Jesus followers,
and inside the circle.
Externally, both the temple and palace
were leaning hard on the Jesus movement.
The Roman Empire, and the religious hierarchy
were both threatened by Jesus’ openness and hospitality.
And when Jesus tried to make clear to his disciples
what they were walking into,
that their future included suffering,
the internal resistance ramped up.
Peter rebuked Jesus, it says.
He probably said, “By no means, Lord!
You must not purposely walk toward suffering.
Fight them. You can win this battle.”
Jesus replied, famously,
“Get behind me, Satan!
You are setting your mind not on divine things
but on human things.
If any wish to come after me,
let them deny themselves
and take up their cross and follow me.”

And the story of the Transfiguration of Jesus comes right after that.
Jesus and his three closest disciples go up a mountain,
where Jesus is overtaken with the light of glory,
and the images of Elijah and Moses are with him,
and despite Peter’s impulse to make the moment last,
to institutionalize it,
the glory immediately vanishes,
and they are back in the real world of resistance.
_____________________

You know, we simply cannot read this Gospel of Mark honestly,
and imagine for one minute that Jesus intended
to birth a church that embraced Empire,
the way Christianity has done—
over the centuries, and to this day—
embracing institutional power and control
and stability and defensiveness.

The authentic church of Jesus Christ is a movement.
It goes boldly forward down a road,
where it can’t even see around the bend.
It moves toward the edges and margins.
It takes risks to join God’s work
of healing and repair and reconciliation.

And I dare say,
when the church does move forward with that kind of boldness,
it is magnetic.
It attracts others who are looking for a kind of life
that the Empire fails to deliver.

I hope and pray the community of faith at Park View Mennonite
is that kind of movement,
that attracts the attention of those who are called to join us,
so that we can stay on the move . . . together.

The world needs alternative communities like us.
So . . . world . . .
Ready or not, here we come . . . together.

We at Park View may be just one small expression of God’s family.
But we are joining with God
in the vulnerable and risk-filled mission
of the healing of the world.
_____________________

And today, we are taking on even more risk, as we often do,
whenever we welcome new persons into this community,
and into this movement.

Because new members, always, will change who we are.
Maybe not radically change us.
But without a doubt,
our church household with these persons among us,
is different than the church without them.

—Phil Kniss, February 11, 2024

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Sunday, February 4, 2024

Popularity, power, and paranoia

Mark: The Urgent! Gospel
NOW - we face rejection
Mark 6:1-29


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As we’ve said, Mark’s telling of the story of Jesus of Nazareth
is fast-paced and urgent.
And as we move through it, the pace quickens,
and the conflict and tension build.

In the 5 chapters we’ve already breezed through,
Jesus ran into resistance everywhere.

Read it again and take note where he was resisted,
in chapter 1,
by ordinary people who didn’t understand him,
by an unclean spirit embodied in a man he encountered,
in chapter 2,
by scribes who thought Jesus was blaspheming God,
by Pharisees offended that he ate with tax collectors and sinners,
and offended that he broke Sabbath law,
in chapter 3, he was resisted
by Herodians in cahoots with the Pharisees to destroy him,
by scribes who said Jesus was full of the devil,
by members of his own biological family,
who thought he might be losing his mind,
in chapter 4,
by his own disciples confused by his parables,
and frightened by his power.
and in chapter 5,
by the Roman residents of the Decapolis,
who urged him to leave their region
after he freed a demoniac,
and upset the social, spiritual, and economic equilibrium.

So take note, and then . . . scan those 5 chapters again,
and notice, throughout, how overwhelmingly popular he was,
at the same time!
See how his followers, in their enthusiasm, clamored after him,
crowding him, touching him, praising him.

He could scarcely escape their adoration, their crying out for help.
No matter how hard he tried to get away, they would catch up.

Not even a third of the way through the book,
and the pattern is crystal clear—
the adoration, and the resistance, are both intense.
It will continue like this until it all comes to a head in Jerusalem,
and a life-and-death struggle plays out in both palace and temple,
where the authority figures of both the Roman Empire,
and the religious hierachy,
try to solve the Jesus problem with violence, by killing it off.

So what happens in Mark, and especially in today’s text,
is that we get a glimpse into the nature
of the kingdom of God.
Remember, that’s how Mark (as well as Matthew and Luke)
summarize the essence of Jesus’ message.
Jesus’ opening words in the Gospels are,
“Here is the kingdom of God.
It is near you.
It is at hand.
See it.
Hear it.
Taste it . . .
Enter it.”

In fact, the kingdom Jesus proclaimed, and lived, and demonstrated,
was compelling.
It attracted people like a magnet,
especially people who were being left behind
by the powers of the earth-bound kingdoms and empires.
_____________________

Let’s do a quick review of today’s Gospel story—
actually three stories.
Story 1.
Jesus the prophet is not accepted in his own hometown.
All the adults in Nazareth knew Jesus from boyhood,
knew his working class family,
knew his siblings,
and just didn’t know how to reconcile his ordinariness,
with these reports of miraculous power.
Mark says, they took offense at him.
And because of that lack of trust, lack of faith,
Jesus was hindered in what he could accomplish there.
Mark says he did nothing much,
“except he laid his hands on a few people and cured them.”
Sounds like, “Whoop-die-doo! Nothing to see here.”

Story 2.
Since Jesus could do so little himself in that community,
he sent his disciples out into the countryside,
two by two, and delegated his own authority to them.
He gave them no provisions—only authority, and instructions.
Teach and heal and cast out demons.
Perhaps Jesus’ thought process was,
I have too much baggage here in this community.
Let them go out with no baggage,
and see what power
the Spirit might unleash through them.
As it turned out,
they had a much greater impact than Jesus had.
Mark says,
“They cast out many demons
and anointed with oil many who were sick and cured them.”
That’s a “whoop-die-doo” for real.

Story 3.
This is about King Herod,
who got word of Jesus’ growing popularity and power,
and then got paranoid.
Sounds like a lot of people were getting a bit tense over Jesus,
and couldn’t agree on what was really happening.
Some said, “It’s John the Baptist raised from the dead.”
Others said, “It’s the prophet Elijah.”
Or some other prophet of old, returned to the present,
to set things straight.
But Herod seemed to latch on to the theory
that it was John the Baptist come back to life,
which freaked him out, understandably,
because he was the one who recently had John beheaded.

Then Mark goes back in time to tell the story of John’s beheading.
How far back? Days? Weeks? It doesn’t really say.
But it’s certainly fresh in the memory of many people,
because the first thing that came to their mind,
to explain Jesus’ amazing power,
was that he was a resurrected John the Baptist.
It’s a strange and colorful story describing John’s beheading.
It happened at the culmination of Herod’s big birthday bash,
when they were probably all pretty well soused.

The details of the story are actually not that significant.
What’s important here is the pattern
being repeated over and over in Mark.
This is yet another example of how power from below,
disturbs and distresses power being exercised from above.

The powerful deeds of John the Baptist and Jesus of Nazareth,
stand in stark contrast to the power being exerted by,
and anxiously grasped by the likes of Herod, and Caesar,
and the scribes and Pharisees, and such.

It seems that Empire and hierarchy of all kinds
exercise power over, bending underlings to their will,
by whatever means necessary.
Whereas the power of Jesus and John and the prophets of old,
challenge the power structures over them,
and are seen as a mortal threat.
So much of a threat,
that executing the offender seems like the most viable solution.
_____________________

Those calculations are still being made in our world today.
We know that, of course,
simply by following the news coming out of Ukraine and Gaza
and too many other places to name.
The powers exert their influence on others by force or violence,
and keep doing it that way, until they can’t.
Until a greater power overtakes them, and does it back to them.
That is the character of the kingdoms of this world,
of empires, of monarchies, of dictatorships . . .
of democracies, republics, and socialist states.
Sadly, this reality is not limited to the powers of the State or Nation.
It is also the character of many of our own
public and private institutions,
and political parties,
and other organized social entities.
It even finds its way into the church and religious bodies.
It has become an accepted way of being in this world.

Our culture has an obsession with popularity, with celebrity.
People who are able to attract attention,
generally are also able to gather power around themselves.
They are influencers.
And once they leverage their popularity into power,
and institutionalize that power,
and establish a position from which they wield that power,
then the paranoia sets in.
They start feeling threatened when others get some of the limelight,
because . . . limelight leads to power,
and their hold on power might start to loosen.
So they lash out, try to damage their rivals.

I’m only describing what we all see right in front of our eyes,
as we watch what’s happening
in our political system,
in our culture,
on public school boards,
and every other place power is being wielded
from a position of superiority.

Jesus points us in a different direction.
There are other ways to look at power.

The reign of God operates with a whole different set of assumptions.
It’s clear in scripture,
God shows preferential care for the poor,
for those who are being told they are of little worth.
That’s why Jesus, in Mark, and in every other Gospel,
moves toward the margins,
socializes with thieving tax collectors and scandalous women,
touches lepers,
and challenges both religious and imperial powers.
Jesus is exercising another kind of power.

Dr. Amanda Brobst-Renaud,
a Lutheran pastor and theology professor at Valparaiso,
drawing on the work of other Mark scholars,
wrote a brief commentary on this text,
and contrasted the reign of God and the reign of Rome.

Rome works from the center out;
God’s reign begins at the margins,
in the wilderness, initiating a new sociopolitical order.
Rome works from the top down;
God’s reign starts from the bottom up,
a peasant movement spreading like invasive mustard plants.
Rome secures the strongest of its people and exploits the weak;
God’s reign restores the weakest and the most vulnerable.

Rather than power demonstrated by all that one HAS,
power in God’s reign is demonstrated by all that one GIVES.

Maybe it’s too much to ask,
but wouldn’t it be an amazing turn-around of our polarized culture,
if we could redefine power in terms of what we give away,
instead of what we accumulate?

It might be a lot to ask of our whole society and political system.
But maybe, it’s a fair question to ask ourselves.

Do we measure our own life and contributions
and yes, personal power,
by what we have, or by what we give?
And what difference might it make,
if we started measuring our own self-worth
by what we contributed to the well-being of others,
particularly those on the margins?

We have an example in Jesus.
We have a saving redeemer in Jesus,
who by the power of Spirit is able to transform us
into his likeness.

—Phil Kniss, February 4, 2024

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