18 Pentecost, Proper 21 – September 27, 2015
Mark 9:38-50
“We saw someone….” That’s how a lot of judgment starts, doesn’t it? “Teacher, we saw someone casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him, because he was not following us.” “We saw someone….” That’s how a lot of judgment starts, doesn’t it? “Teacher, we saw someone casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him, because he was not following us.”
The words almost sound whiney, like a four-year old tattletale: “because he was not following us.” But Jesus says, “Umm, no. That’s not how this works. That’s not how discipleship works.” And then he says further, “And, I know what you want to do next! Now you want to put a stumbling block in their way. Not only do you want to call them out, you want to make sure they fall. Seal the deal.” Yep. That’s exactly what we want to do. This is a competitive world, all of it, even the church. It is so very hard to resist saying, “I saw someone.” Because what do we do? We tend to define ourselves over and against others. Which begs the question of identity that this gospel passage is asking us to pay attention to.
Who are you? Who are you?
Really. Take a moment to ponder that question…and then ask yourself how you came to that answer. Do you define yourself by your accomplishments, or your history, or particular critical experiences, or your relationships, or some combination of the above?
Note the tone and tenor struck by the disciples’ statement: “Teacher, we saw someone casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him, because he was not following us.” More complaint than observation, and perhaps even more accusation than complaint, the disciples want Jesus to affirm their judgment and action against this other follower because he was not playing by their rules or following their lead.
The disciples, in other words, have decided who they are and defined themselves over and against this other person. They are the leaders of the fledgling Jesus movement, more important than others doing works in Jesus name, the inner circle who should be obeyed by lesser disciples. What’s striking, of course, is that all this happens almost immediately after Jesus chided their earlier arguments about which of them was the greatest. It seems that all Jesus’ admonishment did was to encourage them to give up vying amongst themselves so that they could vie together against everyone else!
Which is probably because this identity question can be really, really difficult to answer. We don’t come into this world knowing who we are, where we’ve come from, or where we’re going.
In this storm of uncertainty, we are often tempted to take matters into our own hands and address the question of identity on our own. Certainly there’s plenty of encouragement from the culture to do just that. We are encouraged relentlessly to define ourselves through our accomplishments or, even more often, though our possessions. The moment you venture down this road, though, you’re doomed to a sense of scarcity where there is never “enough” – never enough accomplishments, honor, possessions, money, youth, whatever commodity you’ve decided is your measure – and each and every other person around you then becomes a competitor. And before long you’re trying to tell other people what to do and judging them for not conforming to your expectations.
When Jesus sees this happen with his disciples, he responds by inviting them, as we saw last week, to entertain the peculiar logic of God’s kingdom where the weak and vulnerable are to be honored and where glory comes through service. This is the way of the cross. This week, he reiterates his counsel that mercy and love are the vehicles through which we discover and express our identity. And one of the great things about service, love, and mercy is that you never run out of them. There is no scarcity of opportunity to care for others, no lack of occasions to love your neighbor.
Pope Francis, in the last couple of days, has spoken a great deal about paying attention to “the other”, the stranger in our midst. He has preached a message of inclusivity, a message rooted in respect for differences in humanity. There is no scarcity of opportunity to care for others.
There is a popular TV show called The Walking Dead. At the turning point in the fifth season of The Walking Dead, one of the groups that intends great harm to the main characters explains their actions by saying that they learned the hard way that there are two kinds of people in the world, sheep and wolves. And after much suffering of their own, they’d decided never to be sheep again and play the part of wolves instead. This is the scarcity worldview and the negative identity to which the disciples (and we!) too easily fall prey. There is a similar image employed by Chris Kyle’s dad in American Sniper, when he tells his sons that there are three kinds of people in the world, sheep, wolves, and sheep dogs, those called to protect the vulnerable, and then admonishs them to remember that they are sheep dogs. This is a whole different point of view, one that opens up possibilities for unlimited service.
So I’ll ask again, who are you? And, who influences how you see yourself?
Christians have from the beginning of our story struggled with this question, so it is not surprising that we struggle with it still. But as we wrestle with it, perhaps we can remind ourselves that identity finally isn’t something you can attain, but only receive as a gift. And one of the primary reasons Jesus came was to tell us that we are beloved, holy, precious, and honored in God’s eye so that we might also hear ourselves called to lives of love, mercy, compassion, and service. The cross, in other words, was not the vehicle by which Jesus made it possible for God to love us, but it was God’s message through Jesus that we were and are loved all along.
“Have salt in yourselves and be at peace with one another” today’s piece of scripture ends. You may recall scripture that describes God as the potter and we are the clay. Potters know what happens when salt is added to the fire. Thrown into the kiln, this elemental essence alters the surface of the pot in a fashion that cannot be entirely predicted or controlled. The potter has to trust that when the salt is given to the fire, it will do its work; that, blessed by the intention and focus the potter brings, the salt will make a way for the wild beauty that will come
During baptism, we are sealed and marked as Christ’s own forever. Know who we are as we remember whose we are, God’s own beloved people, sent to be sheepdogs in a world that only sees sheep and wolves, and called to love others as Christ has loved us.
A blessing of Salt and Fire from Jan Richardson:
And so, in this season,
may we give ourselves
to the fire
that shows us
what is elemental
and sacramental,
that reveals what remains
after all that does not have
substance or savor
falls away.
May we turn
our eyes
our ears
our hands
to the beauty
for which we were formed
and bear with grace
the patterns
that blossom upon us
who live salted
and singed.
Amen.
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