What Must We Die to in Our Lives?

Last Sunday After the Epiphany; Mk 9:2-9; St. Paul’s, Smithfield – 2/15/2015

Jim Melnyk: “What Must We Die to in Our Lives?”

I was not in much of a good mood upon my first and only approach to the famed Natural Bridge in the western part of Virginia.  To begin with, it wasn’t exactly right off the interstate for someone making a spontaneous detour.  And then the parking lot was big – and crowded.  And we had to pay money to see this so-called wonder of the world.  And we had to go through a crowded, tacky, gift shop to get to the head of the trail – to walk down a long set of steps, and then downhill to the bridge (which would mean a steep uphill return).  Shameful to say, my mood darkened the further downhill we walked.

Then we turned a bend, and there was this giant hole in the hill in front of me. 

I looked up – I mean, I looked waaay up – to see the bridge crossing my line of sight some 270 feet above me!  Every ounce of frustration – every desire to grumble – every bit of dis-ease in me – suddenly disappeared.  What an incredible sight.  What a loss it would have been to have missed seeing its majesty and splendor!  I seem to recall myself grinning and shaking my head and letting out a whistle of awe.  And that was just over a bridge of rock most likely created when a cavern collapsed long ago – granted it was 270 feet tall – but in reality it was just an incredible accident of nature.  I was overwhelmed by the sight, and my darkened mood was transformed.

       

 Peter, James, and John on the other hand – Peter, James, and John, the inner circle of Jesus’ disciples – most likely his closest friends – they find themselves hiking up a mountain.  And if it’s Mount Hermon, in what is now the Golan Heights, as some traditions tell us – if it’s Mount Hermon – which is close to Caesarea Philippi in the far north of Galilee – they could have been hiking as high as 9,000 feet to get to the mountain top – which puts my grumbling countenance to shame even further!  What’s more, those close friends of Jesus are hiking up Mt. Hermon with heavy hearts – with their own varying degrees of frustration, fear, shock, and perhaps anger. 

Back at Caesarea Philippi, just six days earlier, they had a rather unsettling – had a rather troubling – had a rather fearful – conversation with their teacher and Lord.  You remember the story, don’t you?  “Who do the people around us say that I am?” Jesus had asked.  Remember the answer?  They said, “Well, some think you’re John the Baptist come back to life – or Elijah returned from heaven – or some other great prophet of old.”  And certainly we can understand that answer, because Jesus seems to embody not only the hopes and dreams of those great prophets, but the disquieting and challenging message of them as well.  Jesus, you recall, pressed them further.  “Who do you say that I am?” Peter had blurted out, “You are the Messiah!” (Mark 8:27-30)  And it had gone downhill from there. 

Jesus went on to explain to them, for the first time in Mark’s account, about his impending rejection by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes.  The journey to Jerusalem will be a journey toward betrayal, torture, death, and new life – and his disciples were overwhelmed.  Peter tried to talk him out of it and Jesus likened him to the Tempter who had confronted him during his wilderness fast.

Once again we get smacked right in the face with the prevailing message of Jesus: that  “the kingdom of God [which is at hand] is not about life after death, but about life in this world” (Conversations with Scripture: The Gospel of Mark, Marcus Borg, p. 28). 

It is in the midst of this life that we are called to follow Jesus – and his way, which we follow, is a way into the very heart of the kingdom of God. 

What the disciples heard that day in Caesarea Philippi – and what we are challenged to hear every time we are confronted with Mark’s Gospel – is the unchanging and mystical paradox of the kingdom: that, as Marcus Borg puts it, “the way of the cross [proclaimed and lived by Jesus] is about life and death; to avoid [the way of the cross] in order to save one’s life is to lose one’s life, and to embrace [the way of the cross] is to save one’s life.  [It is the unnerving reality that in the Gospel of Mark, and in the kingdom of God,] the path of death is the path of life.” (ibid, p. 77)  Try chewing on that mess for a bit while climbing to the top of a high mountain – or just while quietly sitting at home or at work! Following Jesus isn’t supposed to be easy – and if it’s too easy, then we might want to look a little closer at the Gospel we proclaim!

Peter, James, and John had to be feeling pretty much wiped out by the time the reach their stopping place with Jesus.  They’ve been turning this mess over and over again in their heads for almost a week now – and I’m wondering if their heads are about to explode.  I’m wondering how their nerves could be anything other than frayed and raw.  “Give us something, Jesus,” I can imagine them saying.

“Give us something to help us feel hopeful in all this mess.  Give us something to hang our hats on that’s a bit less cryptic than ‘rise again.’” 

And does he ever!  Jesus is transfigured before their faces, and there in the midst of his glory appears Moses and Elijah – the Law and the Prophets – perhaps Israel’s two greatest prophets.  Could it get any wilder than that?  Yes it can – and it does!  For the same voice that spoke to Jesus at his baptism, now speaks to his inner circle of disciples as well.  And in the midst of a glorious vision – a vision so well remembered that all four Gospels make note of it – in the midst of this shining vision of transfiguring glory, the voice from heaven proclaims:  “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!”

Presbyterian Pastor Leanne Pearce Reed makes clear that the command from God is “not to see but to listen” to what Jesus has told them.  And since we have no new teaching offered atop the mountain in any of the four Gospels, we must look back to the last teaching offered by Jesus before this mountain top experience (Feasting on the Gospels: Mark, Cynthia A. Jarvis and E. Elizabeth Johnson, General Editors, 2014, p 257).  The kingdom of God stands in opposition to the powers of the world – and the kingdom’s message will always put those who proclaim that message at risk.

How well do the disciples listen?  How well do we listen to what Jesus tells us about the kingdom of God?  We want our faith to be about being loved and comforted – and there is a lot to be said for that in the Gospels.  We are, indeed, God’s beloved and Jesus, indeed, proclaims a kingdom ultimately upheld by the peace and love of God. 

But we struggle with that part of our faith which speaks about dying to oneself to find life – the part that says “whoever would want to be first in the kingdom of God must be a servant of all” – the part that calls us to “seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbor as our self” – the part that challenges us to “strive for justice and peace among all people, respecting the dignity of every human being” (BCP, p 305).

What do we have to be willing to die to in our lives in order that even the poorest among us can see a doctor when needed, or not need to choose between food on the table, a roof over their heads, or life-saving medications?  What do we need to be willing to die to in our lives, so that even the poorest schools get the text books and teachers they need to educate every sister and brother in our communities?  What do we need to die to in our lives in order that our water sources are kept clean and our air kept breathable? 

What do we need to die to in our lives so that we can say, “When my car stalled out four young men helped me push it to the side of the road,” rather than “Four Hispanic men or four Black men?”  Because we most certainly don’t say, “Four White men…” What do we need to die to in our lives that senseless tragedies like the death of three young people in Chapel Hill not become the norm for our society? 

Those are just a few of the hard, scary, yet Gospel-based questions we must wrestle with as followers of the Way – as followers of Jesus, who “came into this world not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45).  And while we might not all agree on the answers, the questions are real, and must be asked.  And as people of faith – as followers of Jesus, we must seek life-giving answers.

Remember that risky prayer we offered on the First Sunday of Advent?  “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down…” (Isaiah 64:1a)!  Here, standing atop a high mountain, the heavens are indeed torn open, if only for an instant, and the glory of God’s hope for humanity is revealed in transfigured glory! 

Only the road to that promised glory will take Jesus and the disciples down from the mountain top and straight through the valley of the shadow of death.  The glory that surrounds Peter, James, and John will be veiled for a bit under the shadow of the cross – only to be revealed in staggering wonder on the Day of Resurrection.