Out of this World!

Mark 6:30-56

James Tissot, Jesus Teaches the People by the Sea 1886-1894 (PD)

THAT was out of this world!

This is one of the compliments I seek to not only give but to receive when it comes to food. 

I enjoy food, it even sneaks into my sermons time and again, as many of you know. 

This past week, I did a lot of the cooking for the Junior High Servant Event. 

With the help of one of our members, ________, we fed nearly forty hungry mouths with a low country boil and some smoked barbecue, to name a few of the meals that were served. 

Some of the youth had never eaten a low country boil before, so I was on the edge of my seat waiting to see their responses as they piled heaps of shrimp, kielbasa, potatoes, and corn on their plates. 

We did get a few “that was out of this world” comments. 

Oddly, the most satisfying praise received was when ____ and I sat across from one another, filled up our own plates, threw our utensils and our cares to the wind, then dug in with our own bare hands. 

With shrimp shells flying through the air and eyes locked squarely on our plates, we traded compliments on one another’s cooking with comments that were muffled by mouthfuls of low country boil. 

Comments like; 

“Oh, yeah”

“Hmmm, yeah, this is good”

“Hoooeeey! Wow!”

and my favorite; 

“Oh baby!”

My favorite part about the meal was that I was able to not only receive “out of this world” comments on the food but to simultaneously give such compliments to my culinary compadre!

I think we both enjoyed it, in spite of the disgusted and at times concerned looks on the faces of others around us. 

Photo by Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash

Last week, Pastor Stephen discussed the banquet hosted by Herod. 

A banquet where not only a fine meal was served, but the head of John the Baptizer. 

A banquet where Herod covets the praise of his guests, just as much as I did last week. 

For Herod, the party he hosts is intended to usher in the favor of others both personally and politically. 

John is not necessarily a political adversary, but the nature of his preaching and teaching poses a political problem for Herod. 

Herod aspires to be Israel’s Jewish King, whose power is fortified by the Romans. 

He wants to be beloved as a modern Davidic King in the Jewish community, while receiving the support of the Emperor and Empire in exchange for his own loyalty. 

He is trying to play both sides, he wants to curry favor within his own community while simultaneously holding the favor of the political elites. 

John’s preaching and teaching endangers Herod’s image within the Jewish community, 

John’s ministry not only endangers his legacy as a king, but it potentially stokes the flames of rebellion that Herod fears could turn Rome against him as a penalty for not maintaining control of the people. 

So, last week when we hear of Herod’s banquet, remember he needed to throw a party that was certainly “out of this world.”

Not only a banquet with the best foods and wines, but a banquet that shows his power over those who stand against him. 

And regardless of whether he did or did not want to kill John, he is left with only two choices; 

look strong or look weak. 

At least those are the two choices he has if he is considering the options that are OF this world. 

Just as Pastor Stephen said last week, the story of John is meant to be read with the WHOLE story from this week. 

We were short changed by the lectionary today, with 19 verses cut out of the the very center of the gospel.

Leaving out Jesus’ feeding of the crowd he meets at his own banquet, followed by him walking out onto the stormy sea to comfort his disciples 

The story of Herod’s banquet is meant to be contrasted with the banquet Jesus hosts. 

One banquet with a guest list that is specifically crafted to illustrate the who’s who of Israel, 

Another with a guest list of the who’s not of Israel. 

One banquet with the finest ambiance and entertainment imaginable 

Another with a sermon so long, it makes ours look short, and hillside seating. 

One banquet with the finest cuisine 

And another with five measly loaves of bread and two fish. 

One banquet with the best that THIS world has to offer. 

Another that is OUT of THIS world. 

Domenico Ghirlandaio, Herod's Banquet 1486-1490 (PD)

Three pilgrims once traveled high into the Himalayan mountains seeking to overcome their fears which had troubled them and diminished their quality of life.

 They were seeking to overcome their fears through the wisdom of a wise hermit who lived in a monastery high in those mountains. 

After a long journey they came to a monastery and they were welcomed in. 

The hermit asked the first pilgrim, “What is it that your fear?” 

The pilgrim replied, “I’m afraid of death”

The wise old hermit told the pilgrim “Death comes to us all, but it will not come for you until you are ready for it’s embrace, know this and be at peace.”

The first pilgrim felt a great sense of peace pass over him after he thanked the hermit and began his journey back down the mountain. 

The hermit asked the second pilgrim what he feared. 

The second pilgrim replied, “Well I fear my neighbors. They play strange music and have too many children. They also worship different than me and on different days.”

The wise hermit advised, “Oh, strangers! Do not fear my friend, bake them a cake, take toys to their children, and talk to them about their foreign ways. You will fear them no more.”

The second pilgrim felt a great sense of peace pass over after he also thanked the wise hermit and began his journey down the mountain. 

Then the hermit asked the third pilgrim what he feared. 

The third pilgrim confessed, scanning the walls around him with his eyes, 

“I’m afraid of spiders. I dream about them in my sleep crawling all over my walls and on my skin and I can never get any sleep!”

“Oh, Spiders” replied the wise hermit. 

“Yeah, they freak me out too. Thats why I live up here. Good luck with that!”

Photo by Martin Jernberg on Unsplash

One of the clearest and most overlooked differences in these two stories, these two banquets, is not just the food, the entertainment, and the guest list. 

The clearest difference is in the way these two leaders display their power. 

Herod’s power is most definitely OF this world. 

Herod shows his power by overcoming his enemies through imprisonment, punishment, and death. 

Herod uses the threat of worldly power to intimidate his opponents, overcoming them with the swift blow of the executioner’s sword. 

All of his guests recognize this type of power, they respect it, and they even use it themselves; 

When Herodias and her daughter force Herod’s hand in killing John. 

All those gathered together at Herod’s banquet know the power of fear, because fear is a weapon of this world. 

Herod’s of this world power is displayed by overcoming his enemies through fear. 

But at another banquet, another display of power is taking place. 

A power that is truly out of this world. 

A power that is out of this world because it is a power that is based neither on fear or personal gain. 

It isn’t the power to defeat Jesus’ enemies, it is the power to defeat our own. 

It is the power to defeat OUR fears. 

Defeating the fear of scarcity by feeding the multitudes from an empty cupboard, 

Defeating the fear of our earthly struggles by walking upon the stormy waters of those struggles and riding those waves besides us. 

Defeating the fear of death by laying his own hands upon it, those very same hands that will be pierced by those he once healed. 

THAT is a power that is OUT of this world and it is a power that no Herod, no worldly leader, no  man BUT the Christ can offer this world. 

Now, today is a special day. 

Today we welcome ________, our sister in Christ to get a bath. 

Now, ______, you can ask my wife but I hate bath time!

Because in my house it usually involves whining and crying. 

I’m sure many of you can relate. 

BUT, THAT is a bath that is OF this world. 

Today, you will receive a different kind of bath. 

The precious gift of God’s grace, wrapped in the waters of baptism given freely by God for NO other reason but out of love for each and every one of us. 

A bath that is OUT of this world. 

A bath that will welcome you into God’s Church, just as each and every one of us have been invited into this faith journey through that bath. 

A bond that no one can take away, with a power to overcome the fear of anything OF this world. 

With the seal of the cross that will be marked on your forehead, assuring you that Christ will walk with you in times of scarcity, times of struggle, and in the face of every fear you will face from this day on. 

It is a bath that is truly OUT of this world. 

Amen

Fitting the Mold

Mark 6:1-13

Maurycy Gottlieb, Christ preaching at Capernaum 1878-1879 (PD)

It’s always interesting how you can be something new, maybe even reinvent yourself, when you go someplace different. 

Someplace where people don’t have any preconceived notion of who you are. 

When my family and I moved here, leaving behind our friends and family in Richmond, we found a neighborhood that gave us that opportunity. 

One of the things I love about my neighborhood is that even those who know I am called to serve as a pastor, they don’t really know me as a pastor. 

Oftentimes, being a pastor means that your entire identity is wrapped up in that particular role. 

So, it was fun for me, say on New Year’s Day, to see my neighbors' friends horrified on that Sunday morning when a PRIEST came driving through the neighborhood. 

As if I was patrolling through to condemn all the bad behavior from the previous evening. 

-I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted to take an extra lap around the block on my way to church that morning-

It was even more fun when I heard the stories of neighbors explaining to their visitors and guests not to worry because, “That was no priest, it was just Nate!”

I’m still not sure how to take that, or the times that I am told, “You don’t seem like a pastor!”

Most days it makes me chuckle a little bit, but on others I can’t help but wonder what a “normal pastor” should look like?

I’m not sure if I should take it as a compliment or as a criticism.

Most of the time I don’t get that far thinking about it because I am too busy convincing folks, “No, I’m serious… I’m really a pastor.”

On my last day working before attending seminary, everyone thought I had taken the joke a bit too far when I turned in all my equipment and my uniforms. 

Even today, after four years in seminary and two years of ordained ministry, people still exclaim in shock, “You really ended up doing that?!”

It doesn’t really bother me because of how others see ME. What bothers me is how people see faith, the Bible, the Church, God, or even Jesus. 

It seems like people don’t really see the church for what it actually is. 

What they really see is more of a caricature of the church.  

Caricatures, you know, those cartoon portraits of people that exaggerate or accentuate certain features like a big nose or ears?

It would seem that certain aspects of the church have themselves become caricatures, so that people not only picture what the church should be, but they also define what is church and what isn’t. 

I guess, I fit into the “what isn’t” column, but I find myself in good company in our gospel for  today. 

Perhaps you will too.

Photo by Josh Applegate on Unsplash

Today’s Gospel can be found in all three synoptic accounts, Matthew, Mark, and Luke. 

Mark and Matthew take it pretty easy on Jesus in their telling. 

He doesn’t get chased out of town, and nobody tries to throw him off a cliff.

Some Sundays in the pulpit I would call that a successful sermon myself.

But it isn’t all back slaps and attaboys in the fellowship hall following Jesus’ teaching. 

In fact, it's pretty horrible what is said about him in the text today. 

“Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary...”

That line alone has a real sting to it, a sting that we don’t really always recognize. 

We seem to sympathize more with Jesus when they refer to him as a carpenter, but that isn’t the zinger in that insult, 

Because not only in the Middle East, but in many parts of the world one was identified by who their FATHER was, not their mother. 

In Arabic “Ibn” or in Hebrew “Bar” literally means “son of,” and what followed was always the name of the Father. 

It was one’s lineage through their father, that dictated who they were, their place in society, and their value. 

So, the audience in Mark and Matthew may not chase Jesus off a cliff, but at least Luke kept Jesus’ mother out of it. 

You see?

For both Matthew and Mark, it appears that there are some rumors floating around about just who is and who isn’t Jesus’ father. 

By identifying him as the “Son of Mary” they are publicly declaring his illegitimate birth. 

They are announcing and humiliating him and his mother with the title; bastard. 

Certainly not a title for a Rabbi. 

Not a title for any kind of teacher, much less a “man of God”

And that’s all it takes for last week’s miracles to be old news. 

Calming storms, casting out demons, healing a woman who had been bleeding for 12 years, and even bringing the dead back to life!

All of that has occurred in a short time, within a days journey of that place. 

Yet, when he comes before the hometown crowd, the biggest question is how such a thing could happen through HIS hands?

The hands of an unclean, unwanted, illegitimate, itinerant, who seems to have found a way to make a name for himself by putting on a good show. 

Even those who have heard his words and seen those words come from his very lips, seem to be literally trapped in disbelief between who he is and what he is saying. 

The reason they refuse to believe is closer to home than we may realize. 

Because it is the very same “stumbling block” that causes people to question who a pastor is, what a church is, and what it means to be a “Christian”.

The people in Jesus’ hometown believe that in order to be a person of faith, you must meet their criteria, which obviously Jesus does not. 

What’s more, the one quality he does possess is one they do not expect from any leader. 

Jesus never points to himself.

He is the symbol of God. 

He points to God. 

Lucas Cranach the Elder, Christ and the Adulteress 1532 (PD)

There was a kid sitting in his mother’s car on his phone one day when a man came up to the car window, tapped on that glass and asked for directions to the post office. 

The kid sighed, put down his phone, rolled his eyes, and said, 

“Pull outta the lot, go straight up this road, and take your first right. It’s at the dead end of that street.”

“Thanks a lot!” the man responded in an exaggerated happy tone. “By the way, I’m the new pastor in town! I’d love to see you in church one Sunday. I’ll show you the way to heaven.”

“Let’s start small and see if you can find the post office first,” replied the kid. 

~

Jesus is the symbol that points us to God. 

He is the symbol that gives us the clearest vision of who God is, what God wants, and how we can participate in God’s will for each and every one of us. 

But he doesn’t really point in an easy direction in today’s gospel. 

After a successful preaching tour throughout Galilee, he heads into his own hometown with his disciples. 

He is tossed the underhanded slow pitch of preaching in his hometown’s synagogue. 

He should be knocking it out of the park!

But instead he is given a welcome, that in his own words is “without honor.”

I would go further and say it is a humiliating welcome, one that dishonors him and his own mother. 

So, for Jesus to follow that up by calling the twelve to take their own show on the road, would certainly not be a great way to inspire confidence. 

And Mark can’t help but give this whole thing an even darker twist, by allowing this story to bleed into the arrest and the beheading of John the Baptizer. 

A call to discipleship, sandwiched between Jesus’ humiliation before his own family and friends, and the death of the prophet who loses his life pointing to Jesus. 

And the road is used as a metaphor throughout this gospel, because it is a road that will inevitably lead to the cross, not only for Jesus but for nearly every single disciple. 

~

Mark’s call to discipleship in the second half of the gospel may not seem too inspirational for you today. 

But it is important to consider two things. 

First of all, you may not feel like you’re a good candidate for ministry but if you’re sitting here today, congratulations, you just volunteered. 

People have proven to be a poor judge of character throughout human history, so if you think you aren’t worthy to share your faith because you don’t fit that “christian mold” or caricature, neither do I, and I am proud of it. 

If Jesus couldn’t fit the mold as a religious leader as the Son of God, perhaps the mold hasn’t been quite right from the get go?

Second, it ain’t that hard. 

You don’t need a Master of Divinity or a plastic collar. 

Point to Christ. 

We aren’t here to give out directions to heaven or detours from hell. 

We are called to follow a road that leads to a cross but on that cross is a Word, and that Word points us all to a deeper and fuller relationship with God. 

If you need a packing list, use Mark’s. 

He’ll let you wear shoes. 

Amen

Photo by Maulana on Unsplash

Fear and Death

Mark 5:21-43

Vasily Polenov, Resurrection of Jairus' Daughter 1871 (PD) 

Three friends were sitting in a bar one day and somehow they got onto the topic of what they want their friends and family to say about them as they look into their caskets at their funerals.

The first said, “I want my family to look down at me and tell everyone that I was a good father and a good husband.”

The second said, “I want my friends to look down at me and say that I was kind and I was successful.”

The third said, “I want everyone to look inside my casket as say ‘Hold on a minute, he’s moving!’.”

~

Today’s Gospel is all about fear and death. 

Not only fear and death, but who gets to dictate to us what to fear and who gets to dictate to us what things are actually dead. 

We are presented with two options in these two miracle stories; 

Jesus or the popular majority. 

Things haven’t changed all that much since Jesus’ day either. 

For the most part, the popular majority gets to dictate to us all just what is living and what is dead. 

The popular majority also gets to dictate to us all what we should fear and what we should not. 

And at times, the finger of that majority is pointed squarely at our own foreheads. 

WE are the ones to be feared. 

That is exactly what occurs in today’s gospel as this woman, who has been suffering from twelve years of blood surging from her body, attempts to reach out in desperation for Jesus. 

I know you’ve been told this before, but -in Jesus' day- the flow of blood coming from this woman, any break in the skin, or anyone who was bleeding even slightly, meant they were to be isolated. They were contagious. They were unclean, and they were to be feared until the problem was contained. 

So, when this woman sneaks in behind the crowd, she isn’t sneaking up on Jesus, she is trying to sneak in behind the crowd, avoiding the crowd's judgement. 

She is trying to avoid their fear, their condemnation, their persecution. 

A fear that has not only been dictated to the crowd, but it has been dictated to her as well. 

She believes that it is acceptable for them to be in fear of her. She knows she is unclean, and she believes they have every right to be in fear of her. 

She doesn’t know the cause of her ailment. 

She has exhausted every resource at her disposal to alleviate the problem, yet it has only gotten worse. 

In desperation, she reaches out to Jesus. 

She hopes to go unseen, unnoticed.  

This is one of those “better to ask for forgiveness than permission moments,” because if she asks Jesus directly to heal her ailment, she will announce her ailment before the fearful crowd's scorning gaze that has surrounded them both. 

Sneaking into that crowd would have had consequences. 

Much like the lepers in other stories, it is her responsibility to maintain her distance from others, to isolate herself from the rest of society. 

But this is a story of desperation. 

It is a story that shows us all, that fear cannot deter desperation. 

The most desperate will always muster up the courage to confront the fears others impose as deterrents. 

It is also a story about what we should truly fear. 

Because what we should truly fear is not the fears imposed by the popular majority, it is the fear and trembling that drops this woman to her knees before Jesus. 

One piece that gets lost in translation, is that Jesus’ eyes are locked upon this woman after he scans the crowd and asks just who has touched him. 

It is well within Jesus’ power to expose this woman, revealing the unclean and unlawful act that she has committed.

Yet, she is no longer in fear of the crowd. She is in awe of the power of God that has been revealed in Christ. 

Before Jesus even has the opportunity to proclaim her healed, she should have fled the scene in fear of the crowd, 

But she remains, unable to move, only able to confess to Jesus and the crowd surrounding them both the whole truth of her situation. 

Freed from her fear of being exposed to this crowd, freed of her fear of the consequences!

The healing of a bleeding woman, Rome, Catacombs of Marcellinus and Peter.
4th ct. A.C.

Fear is as alive and well as it has ever been. 

We are coming up on two years since our last presidential election. 

Out of all the sermons I have preached in this place, I remember that Sunday, following the election as clearly as almost any Sunday I have preached since. 

The Gospel was from Luke 21:5-19

Jesus’ prediction of the temple’s destruction. 

A destruction that Jesus accurately predicts occurring from not only within the temple walls but within that temple community. 

I recall being a little intimidated with the task of preaching on that Sunday and that moment in our nation’s history, trying to figure out what to say and how to say it in light of that powerful text. 

Preaching a word of warning against becoming a nation divided, much like that community that tore down their most holy of holies. 

Today, I’m a bit less intimidated, having preached far more than nine sermons to this congregation like on that particular Sunday. 

But this text speaks to this moment in our nation’s history in a unique and a powerful way that I cannot avoid. 

Because our fears are dictated to us by the popular majorities of our nation, today more than ever. 

Our popular majorities and crowds select ringleaders to muster up fear and division among each and every one of us. 

We buy into it, we repackage, and we sell it as our own. 

Whether we tune into Sean Hannity, Rachel Maddow, Laura Ingram, or  Lawrence O’Donnell,  

-just to name a few, but there are many others out there-

We muster up fear in our own respective crowds. 

We are so busy trying to find our like minded crowds, we forget that each and every one of us is probably carrying some kind of disease or sin in our own lives. 

Sin and disease that could turn our own crowds or tribes against us at the drop of a hat, if it were to slip out into the crowds, tribes, and parties where we feel so at home. 

Yet we subscribe to that tribalism and devotion to our own crowds with a sense of loyalty, that far surpasses the loyalty, devotion, and  LOVE that we should have for the whole, for ALL people. 

A whole nation of people, with different views, diseases, and sins, that make us whole. 

I love my country, but the symbol of our flag, our pledge, our national anthem, it just means so many different things to so many different people today. 

I really want to believe these are all still symbols that unite us, but I don’t know if that is something that holds the same power to draw us together anymore. 

We are far too devoted to our own tribes and our own crowds, rather than a united sense of community and DECENCY! 

Yet, there is another symbol revealed to us and that is the Word and witness of  Christ Jesus. 

If we are really honest about that symbol, that reveals God to us all,

perhaps we can be freed of our own fear and expose ourselves without shame amongst those crowds?

Perhaps our nation can heal and be made whole once more? 

Photo by Jason Zeis on Unsplash

This second healing story is split in two by the healing of the woman who reaches out to Jesus in the crowd. 

Jesus ends up being sidetracked on his way to Jairus’ house, to heal his daughter who is on the verge of death. 

And here we see another crowd attempting to dictate to Jairus and Jesus just who and what is to be declared dead. 

It isn’t hard to imagine the anguish Jairus feels in the pit of his stomach or the pain revealed upon his face. 

After all, this is a man that is no less desperate than the woman who desperately reaches out to just brush her hand upon Jesus’ garment. 

This man, too, has fallen upon his knees at the sight of Jesus in desperation at the very beginning of the story. 

And when his daughter is declared dead, his worst fear is dictated to him by another crowed of messengers. 

Jesus’ statement to Jairus is not a command or a suggestion but an urging, perhaps even a plea, that he continue to hold to his belief and not give into the temptation to fear the worst. 

Jesus attempts to quiet the crowd’s mourning upon reaching the house.

A crowd that is attempting to stir up and evoke emotional chaos, a fervor of grief and anxiety. 

He attempts to silence their irrational rambling and senseless commotion by announcing that the child is not dead but is in fact sleeping. 

Isn't it odd how Jesus can command the howling winds and turbulent sea, but when confronting the crowd they only respond in laughter and disbelief?

Perhaps when we gather into our own crowds, guided by the beliefs of our own tribes, we are far less faithful than even the elements of nature?

And as simply as Jesus commanded the elements of nature on the sea of Galilee when he says “Peace, be still” in our gospel last week, 

He again uses just two measly words, “Child, rise.”

Gabriel von Max, The Raising of the Daughter of Jairus  (PD) 1881

One of the downfalls of humanity, is that we give up far too easily. 

Not necessarily giving up on ourselves, but on hope. 

We are far too willing to give up on each other, on our potential to be good and loving and kind. 

We are far too willing to give up on the ideals that make us united as countrymen. 

We are far too willing to declare others diseased, tainted, or blighted because they seem like a threat to us. 

We are far too willing to ignore the humanity of each and every person in our midst, in spite of how precious we all are in the sight of God. 

As we commemorate Independence Day this week, I’m not so sure we can look to our nation’s symbols to unite us any longer. 

I don’t think those symbols are dead, I truly believe there is life left in those symbols that represent who we really and truly are, much like the daughter of Jairus.  

It makes me sad, but not hopeless. 

I still believe that we as a nation have tremendous potential. 

I still believe that we as a people can stand for something far more powerful than just a strong military and a strong economy. 

I still believe that we as a nation will not only survive, but we can be a symbol of new life, if we just believe in a hope beyond our own survival, a hope beyond our own crowds. 

Maybe, just maybe, there is a symbol powerful enough to show that death is in God’s hands, not our own. +

Amen

Photo by Chris Dixon on Unsplash