Rev. Stephanie Ryder

Rising Again

February 25, 2018

Rev. Stephanie Ryder

Mark 8:31-38:

Then Jesus began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again.He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him.But turning and looking at his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”

He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel,will save it.For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life?Indeed, what can they give in return for their life?Those who are ashamed of me and of my wordsin this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels.”

I open with a poem/prayer by John van der Laar, entitled, “Counting the Cost.”

How do we do what’s right, Jesus,

when it costs us so much to follow you?

when the good and the true and the beautiful

cannot be purchased

in a ‘buy-now-pay-later’ scheme

as a quick-fix solution to our longing for life?

How do we do what’s right when it takes so much time,

and when the life it brings comes

according to the timetable of eternity,

not the stopwatch of our up-to-the-minute world?

How do our leaders do what’s right, Jesus,

for the weak and marginalized,

for people beyond our borders,

when the cost could be to forfeit their opportunity to lead?

How do our corporations do what’s right, Jesus,

for our suffering planet,

for the rights and needs of the poor,

when the cost could be to lose investors,

and sacrifice the lives of their own workers?

How do our protectors do what’s right, Jesus,

for the broken and desperate,

for our allies and enemies,

when the cost could be to face the attacks

of those they seek to defend?

We need to learn how to do what’s right, Jesus,

our world needs us to learn it;

we need to count the cost of your call,

and measure it against the abundant life you promise.

Help us, in our own small way, to be those who do the right thing,

and in so doing, demonstrate the goodness

that following you brings to all.

Amen.

Leading up to today’s passage, the disciples have been with Jesus traveling throughout Galilee and have witnessed as he miraculously heals, perplexingly teaches, feeds multitudes of people, walks on water, stands up to religious authorities and reaches out to Gentiles with exceptional inclusivity. It is perhaps these behaviors that prompt the disciple Peter in the passage just before the one read today, to proclaim that his friend, Jesus, is the Messiah.

In our gospel passage today, Jesus for the first time, predicts his death to his disciples, a death which will entail great suffering and rejection by the religious leaders. He says this openly, meaning in Greek, with boldness and confidence.

Suffering, rejection and death areprobablynot what Peter had in mind when he left his nets on the shore at Capernaum to follow this guy. He’s horrified. So Peter takes Jesus aside, and tells him how it really is, that Jesus has it all wrong. Peter knows what’s best for Jesus. Keep on with the healings and miracles; don’t focus on suffering and rejection. That’s not very messianic-like. Peter, perhaps, expects Jesus, to respond, “Oh, you’re right! What was I thinking? Thanks for putting some sense in me!”

But instead, Jesus turns on him, and infamously says, within earshot of all the other disciples, “Get behind me, Satan!” not really the kind of response we’d expect from Jesus. Peter rebukes Jesus for talking about future suffering and death and Jesus rebukes Peter right back. It brings to mind an experience I had some fourteen years ago.

It was a bright, sunny day, and my mother took me aside and told me she had breast cancer. “No!” I wanted to shout. “No, not you! Not my strong and capable mom!” I began to cry and reached out to hug her. She stopped me. “Why are you crying? I’m not sad. It’s very common.” There was a tone of rebuke in her voice.

Unlike me, my mom is not one for self-pity. And she wasn’t about to give in to mine. She saw this as something she would face head on, checking off the medical appointments and getting through it, toughing it out, and then carrying on.

Though my mom didn’t call me “Satan,” I imagine our encounter that day was somewhat what it was like with Jesus and Peter. Interestingly, Jesus began his ministry being tempted in the wilderness for forty days by Satan. It’s almost as if Jesus calling Peter “Satan” is warding off any temptations Jesus might be having to side with Peter’s take on things; as if he must remind himself that his mind is set on divine things, not on human things as Peter’smind is. Jesus won’t be steered off course (and neither will my mom).

Jesus calls everyone together, the disciples and the crowds, and tells them that if any of them want to become his followers, they must deny themselves, take up their cross, and follow him. The cross was a symbol of shame and suffering for criminals and dissidents, not at all the kind of place a Messiah would end up hanging from and dying. The cross in 1st century Palestine has been likened to a Roman billboard advertising Caesar’s supremacy and the fate of any who dared to challenge it (Thomas B. Slater).

Martin Luther, in the Heidelberg Disputation of 1518, contrasted the opposing ideologies of the “Theology of the Cross” and the “Theology of Glory. “ The theology of the cross suggests that the cross is the source of knowledge of who God is and how God saves. God is revealed in the weakness of suffering and death. The theology of glory, on the other hand, emphasizes human abilities and reason.

The cross is what saves, says Luther, and the one thing all churches have in common is the cross. They vary by architectural style, traditions, and theology. But every church has one. I learned when in Assisi that it was St. Francis who demanded that an image of the suffering Christ be put on the cross. Francis dedicated his life “carrying the cross” of Christ.

The love of God that he discovered through the cross determined everything he did and how he lived his life. He loved Christ on the cross so much that he desired to be there on the cross with him. St. Francis prayed for two gifts: to feel in his body the pain that Jesus felt on the cross and to know in his heart the love that Jesus felt for all humanity.

When we live our lives dedicated to the cross, something changes inside us. For most of us, it is spiritual, emotional, or psychological. But for some, it is also physical. And Francis, mysteriously, received the stigmata – the wounds of Christ – on his hands, feet, and side. It is through these wounds, through embracing the cross, that we realize the ultimate sacrifice, the ultimate in selflessness, the ultimate compassion of Jesus for us. We realize through the cross how much God loves us.

The cross is the pathway to the Resurrection. And yet the truth is, we want to take the easy, selfish way, rather than doing God’s hard work of truly loving and caring for others in self-sacrifice. Jesus calls us to deny ourselves, and that means relinquishing our status and power in favor of service to others.

I’ll never forget, hard as I might try, when my mother came out of surgery from her mastectomy. I had never seen her so weak, laying on the gurney, wearing that thin, faded hospital gown, color gone from her face, tubes protruding from various places on her body. She was asleep, and she looked so weak. I had never seen her this way. I had never seen my mother so vulnerable. She was, in some ways, losing her life to save it, undergoing, surgery, chemo and radiation.

Jesus says to the disciples, those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life form my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. America’s Pastor, who died earlier this week, the Rev. Billy Graham, said, “Comfort and prosperity have never enriched the world as much as adversity has.”

This is the paradox of the theology of the cross. The way we expect things to be is not the way of God. God’s strength is exposed in weakness; God’s wisdom is veiled in parable; God’s love is not painless; God’s life is disclosed in death. (Joseph Small)

Recently, 60 Minutes aired a 50th anniversary show, entitled “Fifty Years of 60 Minutes,” that highlighted powerful clips from the broadcast. One of the interviews from 1975 featured Secret Service agent Clint Hill, who is best known for having jumped on the back of the presidential limousine after president John F. Kennedy was shot.

He also, however, protected and served four other presidents as well as other prominent figures needing protection like even the late Rev. Billy Graham himself. Agent Hill, in the 1975 “60 Minutes” interview, takes responsibility for the death of the president, breaking down in tears in the interview and stating President Kennedy would be alive if he had only reacted “five tenths of a second faster,” and, presumably, taken the bullets himself.

I know Clint personally and had seen this interview before, but something really grabbed me this time. Clint’s job was to protect Jacqueline Kennedy. He did that. It occurred to me in all the interviews, articles and books written since the assassination, including four books co-authored by him, Clint Hill has never once placed the blame on whoever it was that had the responsibility of protecting JFK.

He could have taken the credit for doing his job by saving the life of the First Lady and exposing the ones who didn’t. I was somewhat in awe of this realization. It would have been so easy for Agent Hill to name a name. He never has. For him, like Jesus, it was never about his own recognition, it was about service.

I called him after I viewed the anniversary show to tell him of my revelation, and that it saddens me that this humble, dutifuland respectful quality rarely exists anymore in our society. It is perhaps that of a certain generation. “You took the blame,” I said, and yet it wasn’t your job. You’ve never implicated the others that were there that day. I appreciate this level of character that you have, Clint. I fear it’s from a bygone era.”

“Thank you,” was all he said, though there was great weight in those two words. This is the type of selflessness to which Jesus calls us: to be led by God, and God’s mission for our lives, and not by self and egocentric gain.

When we enter our church from the main doors, we immediately see the cross, and it hangs in central focus in our worship space. When we leave the church through the same doors, we pass through the sign above that reads, “Depart to Serve,” and we are reminded that this is the way of the cross -- through service in the overcoming of selfish desires to new life in Christ.

The true gospel is not about material gain or economic control or political power, but about the power to survive in a powerless situation; the true gospel is about the mini-resurrections that sustain us through life until the final resurrection enables us to step from mortality to immortality (Thomas Slater).

Finally, what is overlooked or not understood by Peter in the passage is when Jesus describes the suffering he will encounter that after three days he will rise again. Though my mother is unable to be here today, and she gave me permission to share my experience, she has certainly from the day on the gurney, risen again. Clint Hill, after many years of guilt and suffering, has risen again. Christ, after suffering on the cross, did indeed rise again.

Whatever you are going through today, look to the cross to remember. The cross is a symbol of the good news for us today. This is the good news: It is through suffering that we receive new life. It is in the midst of seeming hopelessness that we are given strength to find faith. It is through service to others in self-sacrifice that we are given true meaning in our lives. Thanks be to God.

Please join me in the end of the prayer by John van der Laar:

We need to learn how to do what’s right, Jesus,

our world needs us to learn it;

we need to count the cost of your call,

and measure it against the abundant life you promise.

God, Help us, in our own small way, to be those who do the right thing,

and in so doing, demonstrate the goodness

that following you brings to all.

Amen.

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