First in Caring 

20 September 2009
Carolyn L Roberts
Mark 9.30-37

            I never know what to do with the three predictions of Jesus’ passion in the gospel of Mark. To me, they come across as contrivances–as foreshadowing that seems clumsy at best. Bu-u-t at the same time, we know the end of the story of Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem for Passover. The story of crucifixion, the story of obscene brutality...the story of an empire’s willingness to employ torture and to justify torture because it pacifies the occupied territories. And that’s how today’s three-part reading opens. Jesus is teaching his disciples that the son of Adam will be betrayed and killed and after three days, will rise again.

            The disciples don’t come off well. They don’t understand what Jesus is saying; they are too afraid–and perhaps too inattentive[1,220] to ask. So they don’t. I can relate to too inattentive. One of my best friends on the west cost had a long period–a period of years–  where her father went through a series of strokes. I tried to be supportive from a 3,000 mile/three time-zone distance. We spoke on the phone, and fairly frequently exchanged email updates. After each stroke, each setback, her father rallied, and was able to take joy in her visits, able to appreciate quiet time with her. Then Anne sent me an email indicating that her father was in a coma. Only I scanned it, and missed that very important detail. Maybe I had a lot happening on my end at the moment; I don’t remember. The fact is, that for whatever reason, I missed the import of what she was saying, and not long after that, Anne’s father died. Because I’d been inattentive, caught up in whatever was going on with me at that point, I was unprepared for her father’s death, and less able to offer Anne the support she deserved from a close friend.

            Mark tells us that Jesus’ disciples are equally inattentive. Even if the ‘predictions’ of Jesus’ crucifixion are read back into the story from the vantage point of 40-some years after that horrific event, Mark makes it very clear that the disciples are not picking up on the import of what Jesus is saying. Even if this part of the story comes with the vision of 20/20 hindsight, it is a cautionary note in neon letters, reminding us that our inattention to the moment can leave us totally unprepared for the future that is yet to come. We may not live under the brutal pacification of an occupying army. It is unlikely that we will ever face the shear torture of crucifixion–thank God!. But we have our own laundry list of harsh realities: global warming, terrorism, escalating unemployment, racist subtexts, inadequate health care for millions.

            Then Jesus and the disciples come to Capernaum and enter a house. Jesus talks to the disciples again: What were you arguing about on the way? Again, the disciples are silent–because Jesus has nailed it–so to speak. They have been arguing about which of them is the greatest....not the kind of thing followers want to ‘fess up to in the presence of their  teacher. We are in the middle passage, the middle section of the story, with disciples who are too inattentive to the big picture on the one hand, and too self-absorbed in their personal agendas on the other; the two are often related. Inadequate health care compromises the quality of life for millions, and we argue about whether the President was born in the United States. Global warming and climate change threaten entire populations from coral reefs to complete human communities, and we argue about whether same-sex couples can have their committed relationships recognized by the state. Jesus takes a child from the household,  holds the child in his arms, and speaks of welcome.

            Back to the basics, like Vince Lombardi’s legendary beginning with the Green Bay Packers, the franchise that by 1959 had lost for ten years in a row and were at the bottom of the standings. Lombardi begins leading practices, inspiring, training, motivating. But at one point in a practice, he gets so frustrated with what is going on with the players that he blows the whistle and gathers the team around him. Then he picks up the pigskin. "Let's start at the beginning. This is a football. These are the yard markers. I'm the coach. You are the players."[2]

            Jesus wraps his arms around a child. Let’s start at the beginning. Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.

            Yesterday I had the privilege of officiating in the wedding of two people very special to me and this congregation–Beth and Laura. Their love for one another is apparent to anyone who has spent time with them. Thanks to the leadership provided by Colby Harmon, thanks to the overwhelming support of this congregation to be an Open and Affirming congregation, these two beautiful children of God have known the affirmation and welcome Jesus speaks of. I pray that someday soon, the state of Maryland will be added to the growing list of those who honor same-sex marriage.

            In the meantime, there are other children, including a group of third-graders at Fox Chapel Elementary school who need to know that the arms of welcome embrace them too.  Back to basics.

***

[1] Swanson, Richard W., Provoking the Gospel of Mark, The Pilgrim Press, © 2005.
[2] http://www.joshhunt.com/mail23.htm, from Josh Hunt’s Teacher Tips, as found on 18 September 2009