Sermon: 9/23/12

Read Mark 9:30-37

Jesus has just imparted a crucial teaching to the disciples. 

He has told them who he is.

But, the prospect of the Messiah being killed by his adversaries just does not compute. When God comes in glory, it is surely to conquer his enemies, not to "be handed over into the hands of men, and they will kill him" (31). So, "they did not understand what he was saying and they were afraid to ask him" (verse 32).

It's not just that they don't understand some piece of information. It's that they don't understand this specific teaching; one that remains today at the very heart of understanding Christianity: the Incarnation of God. How could it be that the Messiah (the Son of God) would suffer and die?

They didn’t ask the hard question, and I really wish they had…

First, because it got them into trouble the same way it gets us into trouble today.

Look at what the scripture says about the results of them not trusting Jesus with their question.  

They began to argue with each other about which of them were the greatest disciple.

Now, why do you think the lack of asking their question led to this?

Jesus tells them that he must suffer, die and on the third day rise again.  But, they didn't understand this last part.  The only thing they heard was that which they could understand, that he was going to die.  Death we all understand.  Death we know very well.  Resurrection.....not so much.  This is a mystery of God's amazing grace.  So, when the disciples heard Jesus say what was to happen to the Messiah, they heard very clearly the part they understood, but then failed to ask for any clarity about the part they didn't.  The result was ignorance in the face of the greatest news...the news that takes away the sting and worry of death, resurrection.  All they heard was the bad news.  So they begin to plan ahead for the time when they will need to appoint a leader.   When their current leader, Jesus, is dead and gone.   Had they asked their question about resurrection, they would have learned that Jesus was going to send the Holy Spirit to lead them.  Instead, they began to argue with one another. 

Oh, how many arguments we endure with loved ones when asking a question to clarify communication could have avoided the whole conflict.  

The second reason I wish the disciples would have asked their question is because it is this question of incarnational theology that prompts so many early Christians to try and come up with their own answer by constructing an intelligible, but misguided, notion of Christianity.  Their answers are now known as heresies, and they still linger among us, and misguide us today.

  1.  Maybe Jesus didn't really suffer and die.  This is called Docetism.  These folks answer the question by suggesting that Christ didn't actually die on the cross.  He was too divine to die, they thought.  Therefore whatever was witnessed by the people watching his crucifixion was some kind of illusion, or a ghost or some other phenomena.  

This heresy pops its head up today whenever we fail to believe or trust in grace, or miracles, or prayer etc.  When we lose faith in the wonder of God because we can't explain how something good could come from a bad situation.  

  2.  The second explanation the early heretics offered was a kind of dualism called Gnosticism, whereby the human part of Jesus suffered but the divine part was untouched (Gnosticism).  Gnosticism is still very prevalent today.  It comes whenever we refuse to accept that God's grace does not cause a separation of identities within us, but the renewal of the same whole.  In simpler terms, we hear a taste of Gnosticism when we try to blame some other portion of ourselves, like "The Devil made me do it."  Or, when we speak of a separation between the body and spirit.  God created us wholly human with a mind, body, and spirit.  We are not a composite of separate entities.  God's saving grace heals the whole, not a part.  When Jesus died, the whole Jesus died, not the human part while the divine part lived on.

Early Christian’s struggled with what sort of God gets caught in a corner like that?  They needed an almighty God who conquers enemies, not one who suffers and dies.  So they made up their own answers instead of asking God the hard questions.

So why don't the disciples simply ask Jesus to explain? Probably because they don't want to appear as confused as they are. Or, their distress at his teaching is so deep they fear addressing it. Besides, the closer we are to Jesus, the more we are supposed to know (about God, about prayer, about the Bible, about religious stuff), right?   Wrong!

In our world, no one wants to look uninformed, confused, or clueless. We withhold our toughest questions, often within our own churches and within Christian fellowship. We pretend we don't have hard questions. Yet the deepest mysteries of life do indeed elude us. Why do good people suffer? Why are humans so brutal to one another? Why does it seem that evil succeeds? If God's own Son is betrayed and killed, then no one is safe. Why did God set up a world like this? 

These are hard questions, but we need to ask them.  

Why ask our hard questions? Because we withhold these questions at our own peril. 
When the disciples avoid asking hard questions, they assume the wrong conclusion and focus on posturing about who is right.  We know this result all too well.  How would this story be different if the disciples had asked Jesus their questions? What kind of conversation might have ensued between Jesus and the disciples? What kind of relationship would it have engendered with each other?  How would our stories be different if we ask in faith our questions? What kind of conversations might we pursue with Jesus? How would our life as disciples, as  church be different as a result? 

The good news is that Jesus welcomes us even when we do not understand or do not know. The reading closes with Jesus embracing a child, the ultimate symbol of not knowing, not understanding, immature and undeveloped. We need not fear our questions, our misunderstandings, our confusion or our curiosity in the presence of One whose "perfect love casts out all fear" (1 John 4:18).

My son, who is 5, constantly asks all sorts of questions.  He is unafraid to ask me anything.  Why is he unafraid?  Because he trusts me, and the love we have between us.   

At the end of this text, Jesus offers an example of who we are with our questions before God. We are the child, climbing into Jesus' arms with our vulnerability, dependence, and lack of knowing all the answers.  We are the child coming to God, saying, "Why daddy?  Why?"  

Somewhere in the embrace we receive from Christ, there on his lap, we find the peace of Christ which surpasses all understanding.  

Amen.