Mark 1: 21-28
Rev. Jenny Shultz
"A Holy #Occupation"
I am an historical fiction junkie! And one of my favorite authors of late is Kate Morton an eldest sister of three who grew-up in the Australian countryside. Kate has written several books of which I have read every single one including The Distant Hours, The House at Riverton, the Secret Keeper, and my personal favorite The Forgotten Garden. I am currently eagerly awaiting the announcement of her next work which I will download and read by sundown on the very day its released. Anybody have a favorite author like that? Who are they? John Green? Tolkein? J.K. Rawlings? Others? Or maybe for you it’s music and an artist?
What I love most about her writing is the incredible way in which she can re-create a scene and rather than just inviting the reader to come on the journey with her she expects that the reader is already part of the story, and writes with the assumption that with each new page that is turned the reader’s life, my emotions, my expectations, my fears, and my journey, are the light that illumines the way forward… my presence is assumed yet never taken for granted.
One of the amazing things about Mark, the gospel writer that we encounter in today’s book, and why I really also love to read Mark’s gospel, is that Mark is an up front kind a guy… meaning he never leaves the reader hanging. He too, with a vivid and clear style, imaginative, but with an unswerving altitude that manages to bring to climax that which you’ve just begun to piece together, Mark assumes that the reader is already part of the story and that this business about Jesus, whom Isaiah lifted up, whom God has sent and who would rock the world was powerful enough to stand on his own, no need for lace and pearls, for the building of suspense or character development… Mark assumes, authoritatively, that the messenger himself and the message are glam and glitz enough! Let’s take a look:
In just 45 verses, that’s less than 1000 words (for all of you students out there that have had to cram in your best and brightest into 1000 word essays), in the very 1st chapter of the book, Mark records the inauguration of Jesus’ ministry like this, first with the Heavens being torn open at Jesus’ baptism, his temptation in the desert with the devil and what we’ll call the “wild animals”, his first Sermon, the calling of the first 4 disciples, an exorcism of an unclean man in the temple, a healing of a friend’s mother-in-law, in her home followed by a mass exorcism and healing session for people with all kinds of ailments—also in her HOME—Mark says the Whole Town gathered at her door, then Jesus spends the morning on a personal prayer retreat, and finally heals a leper…And all of this, writes Mark, eventually leaves Jesus in a lonely place. Mark states in the last verse of ch. 1, “As a result [of all of this miraculous work and power], Jesus could no longer enter a town openly, but stayed outside in lonely places.” And yet… the people still came to him from everywhere.
You see Mark wants to be sure that we know who we are dealing with right off the bat. I mean, I don’t know about your experiences, but I can say that I’ve never witnessed the Heavens being ripped open with a beautiful bird descending upon anyone in my presence… I mean maybe I’m not looking close enough… and you may have had a similar encounter?
The question of authority such that we read in today’s text is dealt with before the questions are even asked. Anytime you or I pick up a new novel, or a biography to read, we begin by asking the same question, “Who is this person, this protagonist, really, and can I get on board with his or her story, do I buy this?” And when reading Mark, the answer is pretty clear:
Jesus is a rebel, a radical, a boundary breaker, who speaks with Authority…and in today’s story, of “the exorcism” this fact is exponentially confirmed. Jesus claims with power an in-breaking, Heaven ripped open truth, that would be for all a new kind of possession, a radical indwelling, a holy occupation, that would send even the vilest of demons, crippling illnesses and impurities of this world shrieking with fear.
I want to share a story with you, more like a modern day parable, that I recently read about Pastor Jim and his family.
Jim writes:
A number of years ago, we moved to Seattle, Washington, and we bought a house. This house was a catastrophic mess. The foundation of the house had sunk; the floors had sunk four to five inches; the big picture windows in the living room were cracked; the plaster board on the walls was cracked. This house was one glorious, ugly, nasty disaster. (Anyone seen the 80’s movie: Money Pit?)
Well, it was not only the inside of the house that was a catastrophic disaster; so was the outside. On all sides of our house, to the East, South, West and North, black berry bushes were sprawling in every direction. These were lovely, voluptuous, full growing, large stemmed blackberry bushes. And these bushes had been growing for years, perhaps decades. If you are a person who loves blackberry pie or blackberry wine or blackberry cider, our house was the house to buy. We had blackberries to feed our entire neighborhood.
So, after moving into our house, I made a decision. I declared war on the blackberry bushes. I said to myself out loud, “I have come to destroy you.”
To begin my war with the blackberry bushes, I needed a little help on how to get rid of these lushly growing vines. I went to the resident gardener in the congregation who was an old Norwegian by the name of Al Lunde. He was one smart old coot, Old Man Lunde was… he had his personal remedies for fixing everything. Old Man Lunde knew about gardening, Mother Nature, and blackberry bushes. Old Man Lunde said, “So you wanna get rid of all dos old blackberry bushes? What you do is to go out there in the middle of winter, in the very middle of the annual big freeze, and cut those suckers off as low as you can to the ground.” That made sense. So I waited until February and the big freeze came on. It was cold, freezing, really cold for Seattle, Washington and I went out that morning with my scythe which I had borrowed from Old Man Lunde, and I cut them all down. I then did a pastoral thing. That is, I prayed for the Lord to continue the big freeze for a few days. Then that cold, freezing air would get down into those roots and kill the blackberry bushes. I turned my back on them, and a few months later, I looked, and again the blackberry bushes were crawling all over the yard. North, South, East and West. What was I going to do?
The war was still on, and the blackberry bushes had won the first battle.
So I approached my elderly neighbor by the name of Al, Al Powell, who was a retired Boeing engineer, and a great gardener. I said to Al, “I got this problem with my blackberry bushes. What do I do to actually get rid of them?” He said, “Amitrol! Amitrol will do in the blackberry bushes every time. Lots of it.” I bought gallons of Amitrol and began to spray them the next spring when they were just leafing out. I spayed them from top to bottom, backwards and forwards, inside and out, again and again. I sprayed them relentlessly. Those blackberry bushes shriveled up and got nice and brown. I cut the brown brambles off and burned them. I felt so momentarily proud. I turned my back for a few months and lo and behold, those blackberry bushes were all back again, laughing and smiling at me. All those black berry bushes wanting to grow berries to be pies and wines and cobblers. What should I do? The blackberry bushes won the second battle.
So I telephoned people at the University of Washington. I asked for the blackberry warfare department. A professor of horticulture said to me, “You have to go after their roots. Those roots, after all these years of growth, are down deep. You have to dig them up, one at a time.”
For one week I dug. Then Another week. Week after week. Month after month. I dug at those banks of blackberry bushes. With a big pick and an iron bar, with sweat and tears and grumbling, I dug down until I found a knotty root ball way down deep in the ground. It was the worst job of my life. I found an enormous root system, big roots, big knotty root balls, miles of them, so it seemed. I dug and dug. I turned my back on them for a period of time, and when I looked back, they there were again, but smaller, considerably smaller. I pulled out these little sprigs one at a time.
I planted my lawn. I planted my garden. I planted my tam junipers, rhododendrons, azaleas and my ivy so that these plants would take over the yard and the bank. These plants started to grow and grow, and After about ten years, the battle was won. I had destroyed the blackberry bushes, I had won the battle.
What I found out at that time is that my yard was either going to be occupied with a good lawn and good rhododendrons and azaleas and tam junipers and ivy or it was going to be occupied by the blackberry bushes. It was either or. You see, the land never remained neutral. Either the land was ruled by weeds or it was ruled by beautiful plantings. It never remained neutral. It is never neutral. Never. The land is always ruled by that which is good or that which is not so good… it is never neutral. (Pastor Edward ("Jim") F. Markquart)
You see, God didn’t rip the Heavens wide open at the start of Mark’s gospel to sell newspapers or as a publicity stunt… God sent a reminder to God’s people of their part in the story, and of God’s already indwelling presence in the world, that the battle was never about winning “lost” or “neutral” souls, because a soul is never lost or neutral…never on neutral ground…it is always either or, possessed by the power of God or that which opposes God’s power and authority. Jesus knew this, and the way in which Mark tells this story shows us that he knew it too.
Mark, again, is writing with the assumption that we, the readers, are part of the story, and therefore, let’s envision ourselves in the temple gathered around Jesus and as invested observers as folks are crowding in, we observe two contrasting responses to the same “message”; a. Mark writes, “The people were amazed at his teaching, because he taught them as one who had authority b. there was a man who, Mark says, at the same time, shouted out at Jesus responding with aversion to Jesus’ presence. This man, in contrast to those who responded to Jesus’ message, responded to the messenger, Jesus himself when he was accosted by the power of the Spirit, the man possessed with an impure spirit said, ‘What do you want with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are—the Holy One of God!”
It’s so important that we the hear the differences here in what is actually taking place, and what Mark brings to light in such a subtle way.
It is obvious enough that Jesus walks into a room and folks either respond to his presence and teaching with amazement or judgement, with praise and sympathy for his message or with rejection and opposition to it. What is not clear in this temple gallery, as Jesus enters the preach-in per se, is that neutrality, in fact, does not exist, was never possible, that possession is inherently the default position of these souls gathered here. The real question then was not “Was this man possessed?” or as in the Pastor Jim’s experience, “Was the lawn taken over by something?” But “by what?” or “by whose power“ was this man possessed?
This past Wednesday I stood beside the Reverend William Barber in the NC Legislative building as he rose behind a microphone surrounded by clergy of all different faiths including many UCC pastors, and claimed the power and authority given us in the name of Jesus, by God’s own hand, justice for all. He reminded the legislators, voters, hearers and those gathered around that Justice is neither neutral or partisan, it is not a luxury for which clergy have chosen to rally behind. Advocating and establishing justice for all is rather both a direct commandment from God that as moral and civilized people should be inherent in our care for one another, and that advocating for and establishing justice for all, as Barber proclaimed is also a direct obligation and should be of first priority for public officers representing the people of our state and nation. Either our laws stand on the side of justice or they don’t, either you cast a vote for justice or you cast a vote that directly opposes the power to transform, to feed and nourish to instill hope and pride, to care for, and create a system that judicially represents the inalienable rights of all people. Possession my friends is a given… we are either given to the life-giving power and authority of God or we are slave to the opposing voices, forces, competing gods and lords that will drive us to immoral acts in order to gain all this world has to offer.
If nothing else, hear this, Proclaiming, and living the gospel is not about winning people over to God, through persuasive theological debates, or apologetic demonstrations… it’s about understanding that the little g-gods of this world; greed, the hunger for power and possessions, self-indulgence, pride, can all lead to the abuse of power over others, these gods (as Paul reminds us in 1 Corinthians) only have as much power over us as we give them authority. The most miraculous experience, that we as temple observers gathered around Jesus today can walk away with as newly transformed and newly inspired to do this justice work together is, in fact, a miracle, the miracle of encountering the living God… whose power is so pure and whose authority is so present than it cannot be denied. Remember the temple man possessed by that which was in direct opposition to the love and power of God when encountered the spirit of Jesus he had no choice but to confront Jesus and, as we saw was set free by his encounter, was newly, radically occupied by a holy, powerful possession…
When we look around the world, at any given time, turn on any news station, or hop onto any social networking sight we see that our global “streets are being occupied”, possessed by a carnal inertia to thrive, an innate response to the threat of annihilation, a hunger and thirst for justice, righteousness.
It may be helpful to ask yourself this evening, what is possessing you? Remember, the soul is never neutral, it is either given over to the love and power of God or that which is in direct opposition to the love and power of God.
It is my hope that we all leave this place tonight as possessed, radical, boundary-breaking, justice hungry rebels in the name of Jesus Christ. May it be so. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment