Sermon for July 8, 2018
Proper 9B – Mark 6:1-13
Proper 9B – Mark 6:1-13
I like a good magic trick. I never want to know how a trick is done – though I often exclaim, “how did you do that?!” as a way of expressing my delight. What I like about magic is the Wow effect. I think I would be greatly disappointed if someone took that away from me. I realize this is not the way it is for everyone – some people discover in the how an even greater ability to appreciate the art of a well-performed trick. But today’s Gospel passage brought my experience of magic to mind.
I imagine everyone in Jesus’ hometown has been hearing about the great Miracle Worker who has been healing people and casting out demons on both sides of the Sea of Galilee. Word has probably gotten to them about what a fabulous teacher this man is as well. And so, when they hear that he is coming to their town they are ecstatic, hopeful, enthusiastic – I don’t know what exactly. . . but they are going to drop everything to be at the synagogue on the day he and his apostles roll into town. They’ve heard his name is Jesus – but, let’s face it, that’s a REALLY common name. It could be anyone. They have absolutely no reason to expect it will be Mary and Joseph’s boy. So, imagine the scene:
A packed house at the synagogue – people pressing in on all sides – to see and hear this great man. And as the man begins to teach they are astounded. That’s the word we have in Scripture. They were astounded by his teaching. They start jostling the people around them, “Where did this man get all this? What is this wisdom that has been given to him? What deeds of power are being done by his hands?” Maybe they even begin to wonder if some of the things they’ve heard about will happen in their own town. Will he heal Elizabeth down the street, the one with the limp? What about Benjamin? Will he cure his epilepsy? What about me? Will he take away my pain, my hurt, my anxiety? So much jostling. . . . and then it happens, one by one they begin to recognize him. Maybe it’s his accent, maybe he references something that only a local would know – how does he know about Elijah’s Barber Shop next to the Café? Those who are near the front take a closer look and admit he does bear an uncanny resemblance to Mary and her children. And then, as the jostling continues, the comments change – “Is not this the carpenter? Isn’t that Mary’s son? Hey, that’s little Jimmy’s big brother. We’ve been duped! This isn’t a Great Miracle Worker. It’s just Jesus.” And all the hope that they had in this great Miracle Worker collapses because they cannot even begin to imagine that something this wonderful could come out of their broken lives, out of their broken town. The person before them could not live up to the grandiose expectations they had for him because they already believed they knew the truth about him. The magic of the moment is gone as they recognize the ordinariness of the man before them.
Mark Edington, an Episcopal priest, reflected on this moment in Mark’s gospel and wrote “the human capacity for investing in social norms, for believing in one’s own preferences, is greater than the human capacity for faith.”[1] And therein lies the problem for the folks in Jesus’ home town. The social norms for what the son of a carpenter can become have so shaped their expectations, their preferences that they are blinded to the man who stands before them and they cannot have faith. And if there is one thing that Mark’s Gospel takes pains to explain – it is not Jesus’ authority alone that casts out demons and heals – it is one’s faith in Jesus that allows him to heal, allows him to cast out the unclean spirits. Remember last Sunday’s story --- the woman with the hemorrhage touches Jesus’ cloak and Jesus says to her, “your faith has made you well.” Later in Mark’s gospel there is another story of a blind man at the side of the road who calls out to Jesus. Jesus says the same words to him – “your faith has made you well” – and the man’s sight is restored. And so, in today’s passage we read the tragedy: Jesus “could do no deed of power there, except that he laid his hands on a few sick people and cured them. And he was amazed at their unbelief.” He was amazed at their unbelief. Their lack of faith prevented them from being made well.
I wonder sometimes if there are ways in which the Church gets caught in this same crisis. The church is in decline we are told. The church is irrelevant we are told. The church is hypocritical we are told. And so we try harder and harder – we launch new campaigns to encourage folks to come through our doors – maybe some of them will “stick” – perhaps if we just can get them involved – maybe on a committee! We try to show people we are relevant and not hypocritical – we feed the hungry, we offer space for the homeless, we partner with COPE to collect and distribute backpacks and school supplies, we join others at protests and rallies. . . .and still, the attendance is down, the budget is tight, new people come but they aren’t flocking to our door like we know they should be. Why? What are we doing wrong?
An answer that this passage from Mark’s gospel suggests is that perhaps we are relying too much on the social norms of Christendom – that time when people came to church because it’s just what people do on Sunday mornings, shops and restaurants are closed, athletic events are done for the weekend – Sunday is sacrosanct. How dare the soccer teams and swim teams? Can you believe that Starbucks is open so early? Don’t they know this is the church’s time? Maybe we are relying too much on ourselves? IF we just do more and more and more, maybe then we can change the trajectory of the church – at least this outpost of the Jesus Movement. But maybe the reason it isn’t working is because we’ve forgotten the source of the authority we have in the world.
This passage from Mark continues with Jesus sending the disciples out in pairs to proclaim the good news and to cast out the unclean spirits. The text says Jesus “gave them authority over the unclean spirits.” Jesus’ delegates authority to those who come in faith – “your faith has made you well” – your faith brings authority and authority brings responsibility – the responsibility to be the good news (feeding the hungry, sheltering the homeless, working for justice alongside the marginalized) AND the responsibility to proclaimthe good news – with words. If we act but never talk about the God who moves us to act, we are not following the fullness of Jesus’ command – Mark’s Gospel is clear that this is no invitation for Jesus’ faithful followers, it is a command – “he sent them” “he ordered them” and “so they went out and proclaimed” and “they cast out many demons, and anointed with oil many who were sick and cured them.”
Wishing that Sunday’s were sacrosanct again will not work – and, be honest, do you really want Starbucks or whatever your favorite haunt is - closed on Sundays? But being a faithful follower of Jesus just might. Telling the story of Jesus is part of Jesus’ call to discipleship. Being the story of Jesus is part of Jesus’ call to discipleship. Doing both – the telling and the being – is how we will become the story we are telling. Don’t worry about peoples’ reaction. Even Jesus was rejected in his hometown and even Jesus prepared the disciples for rejection. But fear of rejection is no excuse for not trying. I invite you to find one time this week to throw away your investment to the social norms of our day and to take a risk in telling the story – not to get someone to change their mind about organized religion, not even to grow the church – but simply to tell others about the God who has come to mean so much to you. Don’t worry about “getting it right” – it is your story. Tell someone why you spend time here on Sunday morning. Tell someone why you are a doorkeeper for the Hospitality Center for the Homeless on Monday mornings. Tell someone why you make sandwiches on Tuesday night, why you help serve lunch on Wednesdays, why you come to read Scripture at the lakefront on Wednesday nights. Tell someone why you stand up for immigrants, for workers, for Muslims on Thursdays and why you volunteer at your kids’ school on Fridays. Tell someone why your family prays before meals or at bedtime. Tell these stories. Use your words, your language and put your faith in the one who sends you. That one has given us authority and with that authority comes responsibility. And so Jesus called the twelve disciples and so Jesus calls us.
[1]Mark D. W. Edington, “Theological Perspective, Mark 6:1-13”, Feasting on the Word: Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary,Year B, Volume 3, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors (Louisville: Westminster John Knowx Press, 2009), Kindle edition, location 7573.
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