“Tough on the Camel” Mark 10:17-30
Everyone should have received one or two cards as you came in to worship this morning.  It says M or F and then some numbers.  Now is the time to unlock the mystery of what these mean!  This is an “experience of perspective”, as a way of seeing snapshots of information about the world’s population.  (This is to help us see some characteristics of the population of the world.)  If the world’s population was only 100 people here is the situation.  If you have female on your card please raise hand….  OK now males….  (Out of one hundred, 49 will be women and 51 men).   

I know Presbyterians don’t like to raise both hands in worship, but just for today.   

Now I’ll ask you to raise your hand if you have a number 1 on your card…. 

(Out of a world’s population of 100, 58 would be Asians) 

#2 (Out of a world population of 100, 12 would be north and South Americans) 

#3 on your card, please raise your hand.  (19 out of 100 will be African). 

#4 on your card, please raise your hand.  (10 out of 100 will be European). 

#5 on your card, please raise your hand.  (1 out of 100 will be Oceania). 

#6 (26/100 will be less than 15 years old.  Median age of the village is 31 years)

#7 (4/100 will be 75 or older.  And the average life expectance is 75 years.) 

#8 (84/100 will have black hair)

#9 (2/100 will have red hair)

If you have a number 10 please raise your hand.   (69 out of 100 would be NON-Christian.  2/3rds of the world) 

Would number 11’s hand please?  (66 of 100 would have access to internet) 

Now number 12’s please raise your hand.  (10 of 100 would not be able to read.) 

Now number 13.  10 people would own better than 75% of the world wealth (most US citizens.) 

This is a glimpse of our world.  It is a glimpse of the world that God loves so such as to send Jesus to be with us. 

Around the world today, people are gathered around the table.  World Communion Sunday started fifty years ago as a way of acting out the global, universal, radically inclusive grace of God.  Today, as Christians, we celebrate God’s grace embodied in Jesus, but also God’s grace that is even bigger than the distinctiveness of Jesus.   God’s grace existed before Jesus was born. 

World Communion Sunday is the day when we envision a table big enough to host the whole world—a table big enough to hold Christians and Jews and Muslims, Afghanis and Americans, Israelis and Palestinians.   World Communion Sunday is the day when we are bold enough, perhaps foolish enough, to imagine a world where lambs and wolves can lie down together, a world where trust and peace are stronger than violence and suspicion.

“What must I do,” asks the young man, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?”  It is a heart-felt, faith-filled question, asked in moment that is hard to imagine.  Jesus responds, “You know the commandments,” and yes, this person knows every last one of them and lives them. Here we meet a good person—perhaps a little smug in bragging as he says, “I have kept all these commandments since my youth”— and we believe that he is a good and religious person.  To his question Jesus responds, “You lack one thing,” go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor…and come, follow me.”

Mark says, “When the man heard this, he was shocked.” and who wouldn’t be? Even the disciples were shocked, but Jesus didn’t sooth their dismay – he continued, “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.” The disciples were astounded.

Astonishment is not a bad place to begin.  If we were we more susceptible to astonishment we might be more changeable and more teachable.  As it is, because we think we’ve seen it all, heard it all and know it all, wonders and miracles happen all around us, but we overlook them.  They slip away. They cannot penetrate our protected lives.  Mark pictures the disciples as a pretty misbegotten bunch, but they have this much going for them: they are not above being flabbergasted and today they are.

In our reading we see a man who is suddenly asked to make a huge sacrifice, give up everything, on the spot.  He is the one person in the gospels that turns Jesus down when asked specifically to come and follow.  This is a scene that is full of all kinds of emotion.  As it starts we see the excitement of the man who has everything, he is well dressed and well respected, yet something is missing and he seeks out Jesus, a dusty teacher from a nowhere town.  When he sees Jesus his enthusiasm causes him to interrupt Jesus’ journey and he humbly greets him with great praise.  Then he asks the question that is closest to his heart,  “Good Teacher tell me, please what must I do to inherit eternal life?”  Here is a guy who has it all, has played by the rules and yet is seeking something more.  This is a guy everybody would like, Jesus likes him and appreciates the man’s goodness and sincerity of heart.

He has kept the commandments, he has lived a good life.  He is a good person.  But Jesus says one thing is lacking.  One can imagine the man saying just tell me what it is, I’ll get it, or I’ll do it.  I can do anything!  I know I can.  He is so close to having the answer he has been seeking for, I bet he is just on his tip toes waiting for Jesus’ response.  Then it comes.  Not words for the world, but words right to him.  What he must do, what he is lacking. 

He needs to know what it is to know need.  He has yet to taste what it is to be without, what it is like to be the one asking for help, or uncertain where the next meal is coming from.  For so long he could rest comfortably knowing that his needs were met, he probably could afford to be generous and give good sized gifts when he wanted too.   When Jesus says sell everything you have, give it all away to the poor and come follow me.  He can’t do that, he doesn’t know how he could live without all that stuff.  He is the only one we read of who hears Jesus call to follow, and who does not do so joyfully.  He turns away.  A moment ago he is filled with excitement, now come tears and sorrow.  Give up my possessions and prestige that go with that?  That’s too much, I can’t go that high. 

The disciples don’t get it.  They ask him about it later.  Who, then, can be saved?  They ask. This guy was “A” list, he lived the right kind of life, he did all the right things.  He must be favored by God just look at all the blessings in his life.  If he can’t find salvation, who can?    Jesus’ response is clear.  People can not find salvation on their own.  It is impossible.   With God all things are possible.  Learn to depend on God.

Jesus is not calling everyone to take vows of poverty.  This is not a new economic order being ushered in.  His pronouncement is not an attack on wealth per se; but a particular message to this man’s obstacle.  One thing you lack.  For him it was the attachment to too many things.  We are each called to live responsibly with what God has given us, that is true for all of us.  A complete liquidation of funds by everyone is not the message. 

“How hard it is, how hard it is.”  Discipleship is never a free ride, never cheap grace.  Earlier Jesus has said, if anyone would come after me, let them deny themselves and take up their cross.  The rich man was to deny the way of life he could have had by holding tightly to his riches. 

We need to be disturbed because we lack a sense of enough ness. Some may think that “Too much of a good thing is wonderful,” but too many of us mistake that quip for a way of life. For the sake of our own health and life, not to mention our spiritual life, we need to learn when enough is enough. You’ve seen t-shirts and bumper stickers with the slogan: “You can never be too thin or too rich.” Or he who dies with the most toys wins.  How wrong that is! This story’s warns us and invites us to find a way of saying “enough.”

“One thing you lack” is a haunting, disturbing, phrase, for we all lack at least one thing.  Me, many many more than one.  But even that one thing, or those things, can not be achieved without God’s help.  That is Jesus’ point.  Self-denial is not enough.  Unlimited charity is not enough, attending church regularly and praying daily is not enough.  All are to be commended.  All are worthy, but all fall short of the glory of God.  This is what could have been driving Martin Luther mad until he realized that only by the grace of God are we saved, and only by God’s grace do we find the faith to follow.

As Jesus had been ministering many who had been broken come in to him and left whole.  This morning a man who was whole comes to him and leaves broken.  For him the one thing that was lacking was the richness of giving and depending on God.  He only knew the poverty of possession and he chose to stay there.  (I’m going to stay with my stuff)

“What must I do?” someone asks. Think of all the easy answers that could come: “do whatever you feel like”; “do whatever you want to do”; “do what everyone else is doing.” But no. The good news of this story is that God loves us enough to shake us loose from all the cheap imitations of meaningful life, it comes with the “blessed disturbance” of Jesus’ summons: come and follow me.  One who loves us enough not to evade the honest answer.   Amen.

“Let Us Pray”  (James 5:13-20)
Intro:  James is one of the shortest books in the bible.  He is most direct with his words and his chief concern is not how to become a Christian, it is how to act like a Christian.  Our reading this morning is the concluding part of his letter and he speaks of prayer.  Let us listen for God’s word to us.  (READ) ///

You may well have heard this story before, but it bears repeating, there is a tale told about a pastor and a cab driver who’ve died and both were standing at the Pearly gates.  St. Peter came out and bowed to the cab driver and ushered him right in.  The pastor was told to wait.  “Why am I told to wait?” asked the pastor, obviously disturbed,  “I’ve preached the gospel faithfully to people all my life.  The cabby’s done nothing but drive people around town.”  St. Peter returned and said “you preached and people slept, he drove and people prayed”. 

The funny part of the tale is the sad truth that like the cab driver’s passengers, for some people, we only turn to God when we are vulnerable and feeling helpless.  Those are of course, good moments to turn to God – for comfort and reassurance, but James is calling us to be at prayer in all seasons of our lives.  When we’re suffering or when we’re sick but also when we’re cheerful or when we need forgiveness.  Elsewhere is scripture we’re encouraged to pray and praise God with every breath. 

John Calvin describes prayer as expanding our hearts before God.  I have always loved that definition and often use it when inviting others to pray with me.  There is something different about praying in public, because as we do, we share with others a glimpse of that most personal and intimate relationship we share with God.  We reveal something about ourselves as we pray while others can hear.  As a parent there is nothing to compare with the first time you hear your child praying on their own, when they are just talking with God.  They might pray, “bless mommy and daddy”, or “take care of my friends, thank you for my teacher, or help our dog get better.”  It could be anything, but in that moment we see them in a different way, once we’ve heard them pray and had that glimpse of what they care about.  (Any time that there is prayers of petition)

As a community of faith,  we are a community that prays together.  In fact, our worship service is full of prayers – Prayers of thankgiving, confession, prayers of the people and decication, paryers of invocation and Hymns themselves are sometimes prayers

Some people say prayer is kind of like flossing.  We know it is good for us, that we should do it everyday and it shouldn’t hurt, but still many of us aren’t quite sure how to do it, or how to make it a regular habit. 

I think “why” we pray and “how” we pray are influenced by what prayer is to us.  For many we pray when life isn’t going well, but we can forget to give thanks and bring God into our celebrations. We pray when we are devastated and wiped out by tragedy but seldom do we sing songs when a dream comes true.  At times we pray because we think we should or ought to or must. That’s OK, but we all can tell when somebody’s heart is in what their saying and so, too, can God. 

When we do pray, I suspect at some level it is because there is a hunger, a longing deep within our lives to be in touch with, or connected with God. If asked can you say, why you pray?  You don’t really have to answer me out loud, but do think about the times you tend to be in prayer and consider are there other occasions you might turn to God in conversation? 

Each one of us prays in our own way, at our own times, for our own reasons.  But I suspect that each one of us shares a desire similar to that of the first followers of Christ. We know that somehow there is something to being connected with God.  We know that prayer is part of that connection and so we want to pray or learn to pray because deep down, no matter what our needs, no matter what our circumstances, what we really want is God.

Prayer is communion with God, it is communication with God.  It is involves sending and receiving messages. As humans we are especially adept at sending but not so good on receiving. Perhaps there is a parable in the way our bodies are made. We have one mouth and two ears. Perhaps we should listen twice as much as we speak in all relationships, especially in the area of communing with God. Often, as Paul suggested, prayer can be moanings and groanings – too deep for words. As on hymn puts it “Prayer is the soul’s sincere desire, unuttered or expressed.”

In the Lord’s prayer we bid that thy will be done.  But sometimes we may approach prayer as a way of getting what we want done.  At times our prayers seem to go unanswered, then what do we do?  Country singer Garth Brooks expressed a sentiment in one of his songs, “Some of God’s greatest gifts are unanswered prayers.” I think what he is getting at is that we often have requested of God our immediate wants rather than our needs. Prayer is about moving closer to each other and closer to God.  That is what God wants.

At times our praying and living are inconsistent. We pray for peace but work for war. We pray for those who are hungry but continue policies that make it impossible to get food to people who are hungry. We pray for people in need but continue to enjoy, support, and benefit from systems that help the rich get richer and the poor become poorer.  And the gap widens.

Prayer is conversation with God about the state of our lives and the state of the world. One description of prayer it that prayer is a trilogue where our best self and our worst self talk to each other and God is an active listener and participant. I like that because as my best self and my worst self converse with each other in the presence of God, God is able and willing to get my two selves together to love God with my heart, mind and soul and to love others as I love myself.   We are changed through prayer.

When I was training as a chaplain, there was a woman in the hospital whose body was filled with cancer.  Each day we prayed for her healing and each day the expression of disappointment at not being healed could be seen in her face. One day she said, “Today let’s not pray that I’ll be healed. God knows that I hate this illness. God knows I want to be healed. Let’s pray that, whether I’m healed or not, I’ll feel close to God because even if I’m not healed, especially if I’m not healed, that’s what I really want–God.”  She was not cured but she was healed. 

That’s what we all want, isn’t it? Isn’t it God that we want when we pray? We want to know that God is there. We want to know that God is with us. We want to know the truth of the promise, I will never leave you or forget about you.”
Is it true with cancer? Is it true for people facing starvation? Is it true in drought? Is it true during war?  Is it true if I’m part of ME TOO? Is it true if my best friend dies? Is it true in every circumstance in life–no matter what happens, no matter what occurs in our lives, that God is there? That’s what we really want. That’s what prayer is all about–knowing, being assured, experiencing God with us, no matter what. When we pray with what is on our hearts, when we pray what matters most, what transpires is amazing, surprising.

We often conclude a prayer with the phrase “in Jesus’ name.” Why do we do that? Is this a magical phrase? Is this a formula we add to a prayer to make it work? This is not a required phrase we tack on to the end of a prayer to make it orthodox. It is not a phrase we add to guarantee God will hear us or grant our requests. To pray in Jesus’ name is to say we want to look at life like Jesus did.  It is to say we are not standing above those in need, those who are poor, those who are sick, those who are lonely. It is to say we are standing beside them. They are our brothers and sisters and if we keep at it, this praying for them in Jesus’ name, Prayer changes things–sometimes even us! As this happens prayer becomes living and living becomes a prayer. 

Every prayer should also include silence, to give that wind – God’s breath – a chance to blow through our open hearts.    Learn to pray, James would urge us, for in our prayer we will find sustenance for our souls and hope for the future, as we commune with God. 

Amen. 

My God is so big, so strong and so mighty, there’s nothing my God cannot do.

I am sure we have all sung that song and I suspect there are a fair number of people who expect their God to be ‘so strong and so mighty’ that they don’t have to worry about anything, because their god will sort everything out for them. 

Furthermore, their God will understand their unique perspective on life, and not only put them in charge, but help them get rid of the people they disagree with. 

The last time I preached on these readings Donald Trump was campaigning to be president of the United States and by a miracle of the Common Lectionary he is at it again.  Once again, he has phenomenal support from people who feel that he will govern their nation exactly the way they want and many even believe that is God’s plan. 

I happen to know that’s not what Dan believes.

Furthermore, I was delighted to see a picture of Joan Baez on Facebook making a very derogatory gesture with one finger towards Trump Towers.

Joan Baez not only has the voice of an angel but as a young man endlessly listening to her recordings helped form my social conscience. 

For Raewyn and I part of melding our social and religious values into family values involved moving from Wanganui and coming to Christchurch where I worked for a short time as photographer for the Presbyterian Church. 

As part of that move, we purchased a house in St. Martins Road and of course began worshipping with our two small boys at St Martins Presbyterian Church.  

In the miracle of serendipity which has both plagued and blessed our lives, we arrived just as the Rev Eric Chapman was about to go to Whanganui.  He then worshiped at St James which was the church we came from.  Most of our time here, and the growth we experienced, was during the ministry of Rev Gilbert Hay.

Both boys are now in their fifties.  Geoff teaches history at Saint Kentigern College.  He is currently serving as a house master and the serendipitous connections continue because Rev Dr. Wayne Te Kaawa, who trained at the same as me, is renting Geoff’s family home.

Right from the time Craig started at Opawa School to when he enrolled at Canterbury University he was less that impressed with school.  He now lives in Millhill Lane on Huntsbury Hill and the irony of his early loathing of school is that his qualifications are a BSc. in Geography and a Master of Education. 

What we were unaware of, when we worshipped here, was that the experience was part of ‘Introduction to the Presbyterian Church 101.’  Part of my preparation for a call to ministry.  Neither did I suspect that the convenor of the Placements Committee, that sent us to Hamilton, would be the boy who delivered groceries to Raewyn’s family when we were all growing up.

It may well be Faith that sets us on a journey. but the Spirit drags us on that journey by a tangled cord of connected friends.

In due course I was elected to Parish Council and to my surprise sent off to represent the Parish at Presbytery. Much later as Presbytery Moderator I was taking part in Martin Cleland’s retirement service when he suggested that I should be sent to train for the ministry.

Faith well and truly set me on a Journey and St Martins Presbyterian Church was very much part of my Journey.  Therefore, it has been a great pleasure to take a service here once a month and become reacquainted with so many friends.

My God is so big, so strong and so mighty, and there’s nothing my God cannot do.  But God also moves in mysterious ways, ties us in knots with the threads of friendship that grow around us, and speaks to us in our vulnerability.   

The image Jesus gives of God, in this morning’s reading is not of a god is who is so big, so strong and so mighty but a vulnerable God. 

Right from the turning point on the road to Caesarea Philippi and the climax of the crucifixion Mark’s Gospel focuses on the vulnerability of the God we image in Jesus. 

Of course, the disciples do not understand.

Jesus talks about his execution and following Jesus’ rebuke of Peter the disciples are afraid to engage in the conversation or ask any questions.  Instead, they argue among themselves about who is the greatest.  Perhaps Jesus’ talk of his death prompted a discussion about succession. 

Or perhaps they were still fixated on the idea of an all-conquering messiah who would become king when they got to Jerusalem.  So, they were arguing about the cabinet posts they will get as his supporters.  In fact, further along in the narrative, James and John come to Jesus and ask ‘grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.  (Mark 10:37)  That is a fair indication that they still saw Jesus at least as a king and probably a god who is so big, so strong and so mighty. 

Mind you it’s not just a deity that we expect to fix everything for us.  I am struggling through some of Lee Child’s novels that I have been given at the moment.  Struggling is not really the right term because I am enjoying them but reading them bothers my conscience.  Child’s hero, Jack Reacher, is actually a vigilante.  Of course, he only kills the bad guy but it is only Reacher who decides who that bad guy is.  That’s why Child’s books are so popular.  Reacher is so strong and so mighty, so nobody needs to worry about crime or serving on juries, police salaries or the effectiveness of crushing boy racers’ cars.  Likewise, Superman and Batman deliver the villains directly to jail without the cost of a lengthy trial. 

Superheroes are popular because they fix things for us but the God, we image in Jesus Christ, annoyingly involves us.   

But the confusion about Jesus’ Messiahship and his followers’ role within it was not just limited to the disciples. 

In her commentary on Mark’s Gospel Morna Hooker suggests that there probably was wrangling over status and authority in the gospel writer’s community.  That would have been inevitable.

In fact, it is really difficult for any organisation to exist without some form of structured leadership.  Perhaps Jesus recognised that when he gave the instruction ‘whoever wants to be first must be last of all and a servant of all.’ (Mark 9:35) 

Ironically the way such leadership can work is demonstrated in our Proverbs reading where the strong-willed woman wisdom at the beginning of the book seems to have been domesticated into the dutiful wife in a patriarchal society.  However, if we pay close attention, we find that the male who sits at the gate is not praised for his own achievements but because of the achievements of his wife.  It is the dutiful wife who engages in property development and expands the family business while she keeps the household running.

The dutiful wife is equally as wise as the wisdom Spirit who speaks at the city gates. She is wise enough to be a leader of all, by being a servant of all. 

I am very lucky to have married such a woman. 

Leadership in Jesus’ community, and the community of those who would continue to take Jesus’ ideals into the future, must be leadership that first and foremost wants to serve.  To serve both the gospel and those that the leader is called to lead.  It must be leadership that, in the name of the God who is vulnerable enough to be crucified, welcomes the most vulnerable into the community of Christ.

To illustrate that point Jesus took a child in his arms and said, ‘whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me’.  (Mark 9:37).  Jesus was using the child as an example of the most vulnerable of people and in fact many communities don’t regard children as people. 

I can still remember being together with my aunt and my cousins when the conversation moved to the approach of our 40^th birthdays.  My aunt’s surprised reaction was to exclaim ‘O my gosh, you are all almost people! 

By today’s standards we were pretty much children when we lived in St Martins and with two strong willed boys we were certainly vulnerable.  But Jesus’ reference to the vulnerable, by using a child as an example, did much more than alert us to the potential of vulnerable people.  

The second part of the statement is ‘whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me’. (Mark 9:37).  That verse makes the theological statement that we welcome Christ when we welcome the most vulnerable.  We welcome Christ by caring for those some might call bottom feeders.  The disadvantaged, solo parents, and the unemployable.

That is a concept that is more fully developed In Matthew 25:31-46 as the parable of the sheep and the goats.  

That episode also highlights the reality that we cut ourselves off from Christ when we fail to welcome the vulnerable.  

‘For I was hungry and you gave me no food’ and so on until Jesus says ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.’ (Matthew 25:45)

In today’s passage Jesus calls us to a sense of solidarity with lowliness and vulnerability and affirms, that in acts of caring and love, we come face to face with the divine.  Jesus is speaking of a community which provides mutual caring, and support, and his own actions demonstrate such a possibility.  This church was part of my journey towards living in a caring community that seeks to live the caring of Christ with all humanity.^[3]

It is a mighty journey towards vulnerability that faith sets us on. 

---

[1] Maurice Andrew The Old Testament in Aotearoa New Zealand  (Wellington: DEFT 1999),  pp.380,381.

[2] Marcus j. Borg The Gospel of Mark (New York: Morehouse Publishing, 2009) pp.77,78.

[3] http://wwwstaff.murdoch.edu.au/~loader/MkPentecost17.html

“Who do YOU say I am?”  (Mark 8:27-38)
Life is full of questions.  There are the routine, mundane questions of “what should I have for breakfast this morning?”  There are questions with perhaps greater significance like “Where did I park the car?” Or much more important “Who will win the election?”  There are questions such as “Is there life on Mars or Venus?”  that capture our imagination and leave us waiting for definitive answers.  There are questions of timeless and eternal mysteries like “Where does the missing sock in the dyer go?   But then, there are questions that we must each answer for ourselves and only we can answer.  Questions like “What are you going to be when you grow up?”  “How will you choose to spend your life’s energies?”  “What do you think God’s dream is for your life?” 

Jesus asks two critical questions in our story.  One is “who do people say the Son of Man is?’ and the other is a more direct and immediate question “Who do you say I am?” 

It is interesting to notice the order is which Jesus asks these questions.   He begins his inquiry with a more general type of question, wanting to know what the people thought of him.  Often, with complex or difficult issues, it is easier to name what other people think or say  rather than offer a self -revealing response.  (I don’t know what I personally think about a given issue but I know that 85 % of  “Seven Sharp” viewers are against it)  

Jesus asks the disciples “who do the crowds say that I am?”  He wants them to be poll reporters.  They answer him; some say John the Baptist, some say Elijah, some say one of the ancient prophets.   Jesus has learned some valuable things and he has opened a conversation of great significance.  Let’s notice and observe what each of these answers have in common to the other.  Each of their answers places Jesus as a forerunner.  As one who is preparing the way for the Messiah who is yet to come. 

Though Jesus has proclaimed and demonstrated that the kingdom of God is at hand.  The people must not have quite believed it and thought that the day was still yet to come, it hasn’t happened quite yet.  Always coming – but never here.  It is a very convenient answer.  It allows people to keep searching.  It allows people to keep defining the Messiah the way they want to, it allows them to keep looking and not have to decide the truth.  If the Messiah is still coming and not yet here, then we do not have to commit our lives to him. 

Fred Cradock, an American preacher and author, writes, that to believe that Jesus has come means that we can no longer shape him to fit our dreams.  The first and very difficult task of the Messiah is to stop people from continuing to look for one.  I sometimes wish he would just say “Ta Da!”  Here I am.  And so Jesus moves the disciples toward a moment of decision by asking “who do people say I am?”  The answer to the question is important to Jesus but even more so to those who answer the question.  With their response they tell of how they are living their lives, will they look past the Messiah in their midst or will they embrace the love and grace that is before them and with them?  

If we were to ask that same question on the streets today, who do the people say that Jesus is?  What would we hear? Jesus is an illiterate peasant trying to save a few others, he is another Buddha, he is just a special man who lived and died thousands of years ago.  One comic I enjoy says “I love Jesus, it is his fan club I can’t stand”  And some may never have heard of him.    

In spite of how much the world hears about “American Evangelicals”, more and more people speak of America as becoming a post-religious country.  As a culture, religious roots are being left behind – or certainly not holding the sway and influence churches may have had.  In some ways this may be a very good thing.  For it moves us out of our comfort zone, we as Christians have to be more deliberate and intentional about expressing our faith.  And when we do, we stand out from the culture as a whole.  I remember how strange I felt when I was staying with a family in New Zealand who did not go to church, even on Christmas, and I wanted to go to service even if that meant going by myself.  They thought it quite strange that I would give up Sunday mornings in my pajamas and drinking coffee with the paper just to go hear some windbag in stain glass windows.

Bringing the question closer to us as followers, who, do we as a congregation, say that Jesus is?  How does our relationship with him guide us as we grow in faith?  Do we trust that God has a dream for us as a church?  What do we feel Jesus is calling us to do and become?  What does our sense of Jesus cause us to do today? Following Jesus is the journey of

giving up control,  surrendering to the gift of grace, sacrificing our delusions of glory,  joining in God’s ongoing operation to salvage a broken world.

This is what it means to “give our lives,” to “take up our crosses,” and to “deny ourselves.” It is the move to step off the throne and put Jesus there, where he rules with crucified hands and a heart overflowing with love. This is a continuing journey for all of us. We never master it. We never become experts. Over time, we realize that’s OK, because it’s not our job to rule the world, or increase our little corner of turf, or even to become impressive.  We are here to love and serve, to lift up and encourage, to look out for the interests of other, and to let each person know that they are eternally valuable in the sight of their God.

In the journey of faith, the most crucial question is the one that Jesus puts to Peter. There is no more important issue than one that Jesus raises.  Who do you say that I am?  Who do you say that I am?  It is not a question that the church can answer for us.  It is not a question our families can answer for us. It is not a question that we can put off forever and say I’m still thinking about it. 

The journey of faith is not one that searches forever, it comes to some answers along the way.  We leave the starting blocks and strive on, seeking to know God deeper, (or to borrow from Godspell, we hope to see God more clearly, day by day).  Every day we need to have a sense of who we are calling on when we call on God.  We make decisions about where God fits into our lives.  The question is not just one of theological debate and reflection, it is a question that probes the very center of our souls.  It calls us to faith.  It is the essential question.  Who do we think Jesus is? 

In seminary, a story was circulated that helped keep us humble, if we got to thinking that theological knowledge would somehow exempt us from growing in our own faith,.  In the story Jesus has suddenly returned to earth, with the question  “who do you say that I am”  and all the religious leaders of the world gathered and they formed a  committee,  of course.  and they study the question for two years, they are seeking to find the “right answer”,  when they are done they come to Jesus and say..”you are the eschatological manifestation of the divine logos who has transcended the numinous and appeared in the space-time continuum to declare God’s parausia” and Jesus said “what?!!”  Jesus is not looking for a theological response here, he is looking for an answer of the heart.  He is looking for a commitment of a life, he is looking for what Peter said,  You’re the Messiah.  You’re the Christ, the anointed one, the redeemer.  Later, Jesus begins to unfold what this means that he is the Messiah that he would be have to be killed and that he would rise again. 

And coming even closer, Jesus asks each of “who do you say that I am?  We don’t answer the question so much with our lips as we do with our lives.  Where do we place our emphasis and priorities?  How do we serve others, especially the poor?  What do we do with the gifts that God has entrusted us?  Do we live as though Jesus has come, and shown us what the Kingdom is like?  Who do we say Jesus is with our lives?  These are some of the deep, centering questions of faith that call to each of us, that begin a dialogue, that move through time, changing and challenging us and always calling us to faith.  Amen.

“Pleading for Crumbs, Given a Loaf” (Mark 7:24-37)

Intro:  Our reading this morning comes from the Gospel of Mark.  It contains two stories of amazing healing, that take place in very different ways.  Mark has told us just before this passage that Jesus could not perform miracles in his home town and that he has taken a retreat.  All that takes place in this passage has Jesus in Gentile territory.  //

(for Setting the Theme) Isn’t there is something irresistible about the smell of bread baking?  I know whenever I pick up the scent of freshly baked bread I can’t contain myself.  My nose goes straight up and I’m on a mission until I find the source of that wonderful smell.  It gets me in trouble sometimes…I bump into things (or at least gets me some funny looks).  Perhaps some of us remember bread being baked at home, or at grandparents houses and remember how that smell could fill a house.  There is something it that calls out “come and get me”, something that is warm and inviting. 

In a way, the woman in our story is responding to Jesus like that.  She is in need, hungry for a cure for her daughter and she is on a mission and will not give up until she is satisfied.  Now Jesus is out of his usual territory, he is on a retreat, trying to get away from it all.  But word about him is following him wherever he goes.  This woman has heard about him and believes that he is indeed the messiah, someone who could help.  But would he help?  She was not a Jewish woman.  She knew that she had no claim to him as the Savior of Israel, but still she approaches him and engages him in a real discussion of ministry and mission.  This particular passage is one of my favorites because it shows to us a very human Jesus.  A Jesus who is willing to learn, one who can recognize change and growth in himself.  He knows he is different after this meeting with this woman.  

Now this whole exchange can fall hard on the ears as we encounter a Jesus who is not all welcoming, all loving, with time for everyone who comes by.  Here we see a Jesus who is tired and wanting to be left alone.  But work comes and finds him.  (he didn’t take it home with him, it followed him on vacation).  This unnamed woman comes and begs him to cure her daughter. At first Jesus ignores her, but she persists, chasing after the life she knows he can give.  The disciples are getting more and more annoyed with her, saying master make her go away, she keeps “barking” at us. 

Jesus stops to speak with her.  And we don’t know with just what tone of voice he said it, but he says,  “I can’t help you, it is not right to take the food from the children and give it to the dogs.”  What he most certainly means is it is not right to take the blessings meant for the people of Israel and give them to those who are not of Israel. 

The woman is not daunted by this, she takes his phrase and turns it, saying “yes, but dogs are allowed to eat of the crumbs”,  all she wanted was a crumb, that would have been enough. She just wanted a little morsel of the greatness she saw in him.  Just enough to help me she pleads.  And Jesus knows she has him.  He thought he has sent just for the people of Israel, but his calling was more.  There was healing that needed to be giving to given to all.  Israel may have been the chosen people for God to express God’s love for the world but there were people, real people, right in front of Jesus who may not have been of the house of Israel, but who needed to healed just as much. 

So Jesus says, because of your words, your daughter is healed.  It is not because of her faith, or her actions, but her words.  She helped Jesus learn something.  He needed to lift his eyes higher, to grasp the fuller meaning of his ministry on earth.   She came asking for crumbs for herself, instead Jesus gives her a loaf that will feed the world.  Her request is granted, her daughter is made well, but Jesus is now fundamentally changed. 

We see the change reflected in the feeding stories that create kind of a bookcase around this passage.   The chapter before this we read of the feeding of the 5000.  Where Jesus takes the loaves and the fishes and feeds that whole crowd with 12 baskets left over.  Without going into too much detail the way that story is written and the numbers that are used, it emphasizes how Jewish this occasion was.  Jesus was in Jewish territory then and he was offering this miracle to Jews.  Then if we turn past our story this morning into chapter 8 of Mark, we will find another miracle feeding story, also including bread, it is the feeding of the 4000.  But this time it is Gentiles being fed.  The symbols involved point to serving the whole world.

As we consider the deaf and mute man who was healed, we see just different this healing was.  While the woman’s daughter was healed from afar, without any physical contact.  The man was the opposite.  The process involved  most close contact.  Spit, and fingers in the ears and all that.  Not so tidy, if you ask me.  But is shows how Jesus is willing to be involved in making changes in lives, sometimes that change comes with some yuckiness. 

Look at what changed for him.  To be able to speak and to hear,  those are the gifts given to the man who was trapped within a world where he do neither.  The core of one person is expressed and shared with another, not by seeing, or feeling or thinking.  It is through speaking and hearing that we come to know one another and to love one another.  The deepest truths of the human heart are expressed when one speaks and another hears. 

Jesus comes to him and says “be opened”.  It is a liberating command, not coercive.  He is now  free to become someone new, someone whole.  As Jesus has just been opened himself to a world that was fuller and richer and more wonderful than he first imagined.  There was more for him to do.   He had learned something.  And the man was now free to go and learn and make mistakes and learn from those too.   

We are set free like that.  We, who like the woman and the man in our story, who aren’t Jewish.  We, who have no more claim to Jesus as a Messiah than they did.  We who come empty-handed, needy but full of hope.  We are here hungry and filled with needs, looking for forgiveness, a new beginning, wholeness, healing, guidance.  We, who should be pleading for crumbs, are given not the dogs share, but a loaf.  A whole loaf.  All of God’s love and hope and blessing comes to us as bread,   as Jesus who says I am the bread of Life. We do not get the crumbs, but get a meal prepared for God’s children.  Thanks be to God.  

When this woman stood boldly and demonstrates her faith by her persistence, Jesus learns from her, and has compassion for her and lays aside his personal exhaustion and his desire to be alone. If Jesus was testing her responses, she proved herself by her unwavering commitment to stay in place and speak, she knew that it was the right thing for Jesus to heal her daughter and she had faith that he could do it.

What a radical notion: the mission of God begins with the covenant people, and only reaches completion when the whole world is brought in! In the rest of the gospel, Jesus expands his ministry and dealt compassionately with Gentiles and Samaritans. He set in motion a spirit that has proved capable of breaking down all barriers and distinctions between slave and free, rich and poor, king and peasant, Jew and Samaritan. It seems idealistic, and unworkable in the real world, that this bold, joyous, perhaps foolish sprit could be at work, but at times it does.

In the forties and fifties the daily broadcasts of a well known radio announcer was heard all over the States and overseas, from such a wide audience there naturally came fan mail and letters.  A whole host of secretaries were in place to sort each days mail and they would select one or tow to pass on to him. (they tried to guess at ones that he would want to personally respond to.) one day a letter came that was not outstanding in anyway. It was a poorly written, It was written by a man who said he was a shepherd in North Dakota. scribble, with misspelled words and incorrect words and in shaky handwriting.

It was written by a man who said he lived alone in the hills, 20 miles from nearest neighbor, his only companions were his dog, the radio and a violin. The radio was the main contact to the outside world. For years the shepherd considered him an old acquaintance. He was writing because his violin was out of tune, and he asked if someday the commentator would play an A on the piano to get his violin back in tune. Normally such a letter would have been discarded. At best a form letter may have been sent.

But one day, right in the middle of a national broadcast, right in the middle of commentary on world affairs, there came a pause.

“Shepherd of North Dakota Hills are you listening?” Then a note was struck clearly and loudly on the piano. “This is your A. This is your A.” If only for a moment, the ways of the world were interrupted and its conventional wisdom challenged. If only for a moment barriers came down, crumbs overflowed on the floor. Someone who was used to being overlooked was noticed and got what they needed.  The right thing prevailed.

When we have the chance to say and do the right thing, may we each find the courage to say what’s right, and bring down barriers that divide, and may we come to know how good and pleasant it is to live in unity. Amen.