October 20, 2012

Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem. We’re not sure where he started from, but no matter, it could not be any further than from going to Purcell to Downtown Oklahoma City. It has taken him a long time. Most of us, even at my age could make if faster, but he has had a lot of interruptions. Last week someone ran up to him and wanted to know what he had to do to be saved. That took a long time to resolve, and then today he is walking along and here James and John start. It is not just James and John start. It’s all of them. They just don’t get it. The ten are angry and they are not angry at James and John for what they ask. I think they are angry because they did not ask the question themselves. James and John just beat them to it. Jesus shows remarkable patience. I have a hunch that if last week and this week are connected, I think Jesus is sad because that rich man did not just come along. Now his closest friends may be walking with him, but they are not thinking with him. They may be following with their footsteps, but they are not following with their minds and hearts.

He has spoken to them about discipleship and what it means in terms of suffering and service. He has shown them how words fail, and when he could not say it any more, he took a little child. He held it up in their midst. I spoke that a couple of weeks ago. He held up that child who just focused on the moment, living right now. He has again and again turned his favor on the vulnerable and the helpless and those without privilege and power. He must be wondering: “What is it going to take for you to get it.” Everything around them, however, made it easy to miss the point. They were living under the power of the Romans who had slaves to preserve order among the common people and insure their economic prosperity. When you are the underdog, it is easy to think that greatness means lording it over others. It’s often been proven that the perscuted become the persecutors. We know that bullies often have been bullied. Jesus in his way confronts all of that. He speaks of being on his right and his left, and we know who ends up there. We know who ends up there, two criminals, two sinners. The only ones who have a claim to be on the side of Jesus are sinners and those who have known failure. That is the problem with these disciples. They are way too perfect. They are too impressed and concerned with their privilege. They are close to the “Man!” They are walking along with that man who draws crowds of people who are coming out to see and hang around. They know this guy who feeds multitudes, who cures the sick. They think they are really something.

Where are they when there are nails going into his hands and feet? You see, what they don’t get is that it is not until you fail, not until you hit bottom, not until you know your sin or your unworthiness that you have any claim on what Jesus has to offer. Fortunately for James and John and the others as well, we get their chance and we get their ambitious righteouness but we to see how it crumbes. They run away. They are miserable failures when it comes to friendship or loyalty and the faith it takes to see glory in the cross.

Finally once they have failed Jesus by their cowerdly behavior in the face of injustice and the execution of their friend, they finally get it. To their credit, at that point, they become believable and worthy of share in his victory as well as a share in his mission. When he offers them a cup, this is symbolic language of table fellowship. The cup he drinks is the cup of service, and those would share are those who would lay down their lives for others. Sinners and servers are those who have place at the table of the Lord and a share in the cup of that table. This place is not for the righteous, and the food of this table is for the unworthy who know and confess and accept their unworthiness in the face of unimaginable grace. What I think the apostles don’t get early on, but begin to  understand when they acknowledge their unworthiness and quick scrambling for the places of honor is that success is measured not by what we get, but by what we give.

October 14, 2012

Wisdom 7: 7-11 + Psalm 90 + Hebrews 4: 12-13 + Mark 10:17-30

I straighted a book shelf. I dusted the desk top. I cleaned out the top drawer of my desk, straightened two picutres, and desperatly checked email four times within an hour. Perhaps for the first time in my memory the “inbox” was empty: not even some spam! I studied nine commentaries, played the piano for fifteen minutes, and had a third cup of coffee. I prayed; but this complicated and perplexing Gospel does not go away. I learned a lot things in process about myself and Mark’s Gospel. I discovered that the older I get the more I feel what that man felt: there has to be something more. I want eternal life, and this isn’t it. Is there something yet I must do, or is perhaps something I must become. Is it really possible to “do” something (like earning points) to possess eternal life or is it not a gift for which I must become receptive. I discovered to my shame that the longer I live as a priest, the more I sometimes feel like the disciples sometimes in weariness and weakness wondering: “What’s in it for me?” How shameful those apostles must have felt when their thoughts were so exposed by Peter, that blabber-mouth! I suspect that as soon as it said it, he wished he hadn’t.

About Mark’s Gospel I learned that no where does it say that this was a “young” man. For years I always thought it did. The only reason to think that he was “young” is probably that he was running. I don’t run much anymore. I learned to consider that this text invites us to think about two kinds of wealth: material and spiritual. I was reminded how the First or Old Testament  considered wealth a proof that one was righteous leaving the poor desperate for any salvation. If poverty then is a curse, why would Jesus demand it of the rich man? If it is necessary, then why give it to the poor making them more poor? The potential for conflict between material wealth and spiritual wealth cannnot be ignored. That man is both rich and poor: so spiritually poor in spite of his great wealth that he cannot do what is necessary. He cannot do what the master asks of him.

Yet in spite of all the complexity both in our lives and in Mark’s Gospel, there are a couple of things that do not go away, and will not be avoided for long. They spring from the two questions raised in this story first by the rich man and then by the Apostles.

“Is this all there is?” That is what the man is really asking as he lives with all his wealth and comforts knowing that those have not provided what he seeks nor satisfied his deepest hunger. He knows there must be more, so he goes to Jesus the man who feeds all hungers and satisfies all thirsts. There he discovers that he has failed to ask another very important question: “How much is enough?” The ability to answer that question is the first sign of spiritual wealth. Then there is that second question asked by Peter that reveals a shameful poverty of spirit: “What’s in it for me?”

Mark puts questions before us today.

They are good tools to measure our material and spiritual wealth and poverty.

“What’s in it for me?”

“Is this all there is?”

Leading to the big question: “How much is enough?”

I find it interesting that in his usual way, Mark does not give that rich man a name. Failing to do so allows us to stand in his place. I like to think that this rich man’s turning away is not the end of his story, and that years later he may have picked up some early manuscript of Mark’s Gospel and recognized himself in these verses, stood up right then and said: “Enough” and let go of all the things that held him bound and unable to follow Jesus to Jerusalem. It isn’t always material stuff like cars and clothing, homes, accessories and gadgets that we can’t let go of. Sometimes the attachments that hold us back are anger and revenge, pride and stubborness, grudges and forgiveness withheld.

Perhaps today we can see ourselves in this Gospel holding on to that image of Jesus who looks at us with love, and finally say: “Enough” and then surrender reaching for the treasure of his friendship.