Love Grows

Epiphany 4B; Mark 1:21-28; St. Paul’s, Smithfield, NC 1/28/2018

 

Jim Melnyk: “Love Grows”

The immediacy of Mark’s gospel always seems to catch me by surprise.  I know its brevity.  I understand its fast-paced clip.  I can never forget its incredible passion.  And yet I’m always a bit surprised as it unfolds before us.  In Mark’s gospel Jesus comes on the scene full-grown and ready to get down to business.  Mark tells us his story is about “the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God” (1:1) and immediately we’re put on notice.

First of all this gospel – this good news – is a promise of deliverance by God.  The word we translate as “gospel,” or “good news,” in English has roots in the Hebrew Scriptures – alluding to God’s promise to Israel in exile, “How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of the messenger who announces peace, who brings good news, who announces salvation…” (Isa 52:7).  Good news is also a phrase that would have been familiar to gentiles of Jesus’ day, raising images of what was then called Pax Romana – the peace brought about by the emperor (Jewish Annotated New Testament, notes).

Secondly, this good news is about the in-breaking of the kingdom of God taking place in and through the very life of Jesus, who comes on the scene proclaiming, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news” (1:15).  The time to act is now, says Jesus.  God is present and ready to bring new life to all.

Now, I’ve always considered Mark’s work to be a passionate gospel written in desperate times.  By the time Mark puts ink to papyrus Rome and Israel are at each other’s throats with Israel being in full rebellion against their overlords.  The destruction of the temple has either just occurred, or is at the very least on the horizon.  Several key early Jesus-followers have been put to death – including Paul.  Followers of Jesus have been living with the expectation that his return is imminent, but now it doesn’t seem to be in the cards.  It’s no wonder Mark chooses to focus his telling of the tale on the promise of God’s kingdom in the face of the horror of crucifixion; or that his gospel, in its original, shorter form, ends with some rather enigmatic references to the resurrection.  It brings to mind the words of J.R.R. Tolkien, “The world is indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places; but still there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater” (The Two Towers).

Jesus comes upon the scene, teaching in Galilee’s synagogues, and carrying within himself a sense of authority that is astounding to all.  He brings with him a new teaching that goes beyond precedent set by others, but which comes from who he is as the Christ of God.  Jesus teaches that the long-awaited Day of the Lord – what he calls the kingdom of God – has come, and will continue to come, filling the hearts of the faithful and bringing healing and wholeness for the whole of creation.  And it’s out of that authority which comes from both within and from God – that Jesus practices what he teaches – casting out evil with healing love – changing lives and bringing hope.

Jesus could have easily looked at the man with the unclean spirit and thought, “This guy is ruining my sabbath experience.  I wish he’d just go away.”  Jesus could have easily looked at the man with the unclean spirit and said, “He’s not our problem.  Tell him to come back when he’s better.”  Instead, Jesus recognizes that the coming kingdom of God must be for everybody or it’s truly for nobody – for in the Day of the Lord “all the nations shall stream [to the Lord’s house,]” and “many peoples shall come and say, ‘Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of the God of Jacob; that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths’” (Isaiah 2:2-3).

Writing only a couple of decades after the life, death, and resurrection of our Lord, Paul understands the importance of finding within ourselves the authority that comes from God – an authority that is aware of, and in dialogue with, tradition – an authority which is also aware of, and in constant dialogue with, those around us. As author Michaela Bruzzese writes, “Paul insists that what we do affects others, and our duty is not just to ourselves but to the body of Christ. Knowledge alone risks pride, but knowledge combined with love builds the reign of God – a community of the weak as well as the strong, in which all are equally important…. If we dare call ourselves Christian, we must remember that we speak in the name of Christ and the new reign of God” (Michaela Bruzzese, Sojourners Online, Preaching the Word, 1/28/2018).  And the new reign of God looks different from our world as it stands today.

Like first century Israel our world today is “indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places.”  We find love mingled with grief – mingled with anger – mingled with fear.  Think about it: Just last Tuesday the 11^th School shooting of 2018 took place – the 11^th! – And we’re not even out of January.  That’s not even counting the student they found in Pennsylvania with an arsenal in his house and plans to shoot up his school, or the guns and ammo found in a locker at Enloe High School earlier this past week.  When I was in High School we had to deal with drugs – but we never wondered if one of our classmates was contemplating blowing us all away.  The world – our world – is indeed filled with peril. This past week more than 160 women came forward in court to acknowledge having been sexually abused by their gymnastics doctor.  Now-a-days Americans can’t seem to disagree with each other without putting their remarks in all caps or with exclamation points at the end of each sentence!  Or, we simply ignore the tough questions in order to keep the peace.  There are more days than not that I find myself wondering “Where is the ‘civil’ in ‘civilization?’”  I find myself wondering if the most fitting modern day icon of Jesus might be one in which he’s doing a face-plant out of frustration and grief.

But it is also true that “there is still much that is fair,” and that perhaps we, as faithful Jesus-followers, can help make love grow in this world.  We are called by God, and empowered by God’s Holy Spirit, alive and active in our hearts, to “speak in the name of Christ” and proclaim “the new reign of God” for this world.  We are called by God, and empowered by God, to be change agents for the kingdom of God – agents of God’s love and compassion to a world in need of good news.

Yesterday several St. Paul’s members joined with a diverse group of fellow Christians to work on the Habitat Faith Build taking place in a diverse neighborhood in Clayton.  Folks from St. Paul’s fed over twenty workers at lunchtime.  Obviously we’re not changing the whole world in one fell swoop – but we’re helping change the lives of the family who will make that house a home. 

Now, I’m willing to bet that between the many builders gathered yesterday we could have had some pretty significant theological and political fireworks had we wanted to go that route – but we are working together because like the God who created us, we know we’ve been called to be creators as well.  We know that building this one house – for this one family – will stand as a hallmark of the new reign of God.  Perhaps somewhere deep within us all, as we fixed sandwiches or hammered nails, we understood that even though in this world “love is mingled with grief,” that because we are faithful followers of the Living Christ, love will indeed grow all the greater.

So, Now What Do We Do?

Epiphany 3B; Jonah 3:1-5, 10; Ps 62:13-14a; Mk 1:14-20; St. Paul’s, 1/21/2018

Jim Melnyk: “Ok, So Now What Do We Do?”

The early Sundays after the Feast of the Epiphany are filled with call stories – whether we’re talking about Jesus being called to the river Jordan at his baptism, the calls of Samuel and Jonah, or the many calls of the first disciples.  Faced with so many stories about call, we should pay attention to them – and to what they mean for each of us.

When we think about it, ancient people of God like Jonah, Samuel, and Jacob; or Simon, Nathanael, Andrew, James, and John – they each go about responding to God’s call differently, but in the end they all get to the same place.  Called by God and either pushed in the right direction with the help of a great fish, or immediately leaving their fish and nets behind, they all get to that glorious place of saying “yes” to God – and then wondering in their own minds or among themselves, “OK, so now what do we do?”

It may be that when we are called by God to follow a certain path we respond immediately, like the disciples of Jesus in today’s lesson, or we might end up wrestling with God like Jacob and the angel, or Jonah and his great big fish.  Either way, God’s call to us is as relentless as Francis Thompson’s “Hound of Heaven” or John Donne’s “Three Person’d God.”  On the other hand, the call of God might seem more alluring – more like a siren’s song to our hearts.  The prophets Hosea and Jeremiah both equate God’s call to us as a Lover wooing his or her beloved.  And once we respond to that call we find ourselves wondering, “What do we do now?”

 

It’s a dangerous thing to be seduced by the heart and mind of the Living God, my friends.  We never know where such a love affair will take us.  I’m reminded of the Hobbit Bilbo Baggins advice to his young nephew Frodo in The Lord of the Rings.  “It’s a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your front door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to.” Have you ever felt swept of your feet by God?  It is a risky thing.

And yet, here we are!  On some level we have heard the call of God in Christ Jesus and we have said like so many before us, “Okay, I’m in!”  For some of us, like Samuel’s experience we heard last week, it takes us a little time to realize just who it is calling us, and it takes a few tries on God’s part before we catch on. 

For some of us, like Jonah, we spin about looking for the soundest ship, or the fastest plane to get the hang out of Dodge before God sweet-talks us into something we think – or just know – we’ll regret.  Sometimes God calls and we make excuses like Moses, “But Lord, I can’t speak so good,” or like Jeremiah, “But Lord, I’m just a mere child;” or we speak out boldly like Isaiah, “Hear I am, Lord.  Send me!” 

Some of us may be as quick a study as Simon or Andrew – James or John – and like them we’ll only wonder later what we’ve gotten ourselves into.  We’ve all gotten here by different routes – but somehow we’ve all gotten here.

What do we do now – now that we realize God has called each of us and we have, realize it or not, responded to that call – even if simply by being here?  As I’ve mentioned in the past, I think God would have us go “all in.”  We give our whole selves to God.  We give our hearts – we give our souls and bodies to God – to be a reasonable, holy, and living sacrifice to God. 

We commit to living the Good News that Jesus came proclaiming after John the Baptist’s death – after all, the fact that we’re here means that we probably try our best to honor the teachings of Jesus in our lives – and we commit to proclaiming the Good News of God in Christ as well. That isn’t just my job as a preacher – it is part of the “what’s next” we are all called to when we accept God’s call.

In her book, On Your Mark, author Megan McKenna shares some insight from author and theologian Eugene LaVerdiere concerning what it means to be disciples and then followers of Jesus.  “Following Jesus is more fundamental than being a disciple…. Following is a matter of being and living.  For Jesus’ followers, following meant three things: being with Jesus, patterning their lives on his life, and taking up his mission.” (On Your Mark: Reading Mark in the Shadow of the Cross, Megan McKenna, Orbis Books, 2006. p. 29).  And it’s no different for us.

So what do we do now?  We become, or we continue to be, followers of Jesus the Christ.  First, we find ways to be with Jesus; whether through study of scripture, through worship and receiving the body and blood of Christ regularly, through a life of prayer, or through being a part of the greater Body of Christ – the church beyond these doors. 

Second, we pattern our lives on the life of Jesus – speaking and living the love of God to and with those around us.  As Jesus invited Simon, Andrew, James, and John to come and follow him, we invite people to become a part of the life of faith as well – becoming fishers of people.  Now, I realize that most Episcopalians are more likely to put a bucket on the back of our boat or at the end of our dock and wait.  After all, if those fish really want to be Episcopalians, they’ll just jump right up out of the water and land in our buckets!  But Jesus doesn’t wait on folks to show up on their own – he invites them in – and if we recall the story of the height-challenged Zacchaeus, sometime Jesus actually invites himself in.

We take up the mission of Jesus – speaking a word of truth to the powers, seeking and serving the lost and the unloved as well as everyone else; welcoming the stranger, standing with those in the margins of life, comforting the afflicted, and when needed, also afflicting those who have become all too comfortable with their lives.  This part of following Jesus won’t always be easy – just look at how they treated Jesus and his disciples.

As people who through our baptismal covenant have declared ourselves to be followers of Jesus, what do we do now?  We look to the continued in-breaking of God’s kingdom – God’s reign – in our lives and in the life of this world – and we work for its fulfillment.  Author Megan McKenna calls this age “God-with-us time” (p. 23).  Time to make a difference in this world.  Time for “business as usual” to come to an end, and time for the well-being of the whole human family to be embraced.  Time to proclaim that God’s love is not owned by any one denomination – or by any one faith. Time to proclaim that God’s love is not owned by any one people, or by any one nation.

So, having recognized that we have, indeed, been called to follow Jesus the Christ, what do we do now?  That’s a great question for each of us to ask. We each have our own unique gifts – our own particular calling – and we each have to figure out what that looks like for ourselves.  At St. Paul’s you may be called to serve on the Vestry – like those we elected not long ago.  You may be called to coordinate or serve on a committee, teach Sunday School, or work with youth.  Right now we could use a couple of folks interested in serving on Finance, stewardship, or as ushers.  In the wider community it may mean helping with Harbor House, volunteering in an underserved school, or working on a Habitat House.  Who knows? In community we can each figure out what that calling may be. But whatever we choose - once we choose to follow - once we step out on the road we may well get swept off our feet to who knows where.  One thing I can promise you - when we choose to follow Jesus we're never the same person again - we are a new creation.

What we do next all come under the same general headings of being with Jesus, patterning our lives on his life, and taking up his mission – but we each need to decide what that means in our own lives – how we will make it real for ourselves.  So, what do we do now?  Quite simply, we decide to follow Jesus!  Amen.