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