Blood-letting [Lent 2B]
The Rev. Jeremiah Williamson
Mark 8:31-38
Blood-letting
There is more than one way to lose
your life. It doesn't always happen in
one fell swoop. It's not always a hard
stop. Sometimes it means leaving little
drops everywhere you go until your life blood is exhausted.
This gradual blood-letting is a
drain. There is nothing flashy about
it. It is not celebrated. Make no mistake Jesus is inviting his
disciples to walk the way of death.
There is no doubt about that. But
following Jesus obviously does not always end in martyrdom. There is more than one way to lose your
life. Now, it is true that most of
Jesus' first disciples did die for Jesus' sake and for the sake of the
gospel. It is true that the Church
calendar is filled with days commemorating those who lost their mortal lives
following in Jesus' footsteps. It is
true that there are Christians sharing this planet with us right now who will
be killed for their Christian witness, by groups like ISIS.
But we don't live in one of those
times or one of those places. We live in
21st century northwest Ohio. It
is highly unlikely that any of us will be killed because of our faith in
Jesus. And thank God for that.
But this Gospel: it almost feels
unfair to read this text on a Sunday morning, in a public gathering, in a
building marked with a giant cross, as if we could really understand it. We certainly have a much different experience
of Jesus' words and expectations than did his original listeners, certainly
different than those first readers of Mark's gospel, who read these words not
long after many of their fellow believers were put to death by the Imperial
authorities. Marcus Borg explains, “In
the Jewish homeland in the first century, taking up one's cross was an image
for death. It did not yet mean patiently
bearing whatever burden might befall
one, as when we sometimes speak of 'our cross' in life as a physical difficulty
or even a troublesome in-law. Rather, taking up one's cross referred to the
Roman practice of requiring a person condemned to be crucified to carry the
horizontal crossbeam to the place of execution, where the vertical post was
permanently fixed in the ground. To take
up one's cross was to embark upon the path of death.”[1]
Time and circumstance have blunted
the impact of this text. We can't know
the shock of that crowd that Jesus called together. We don't experience the mortification of
Peter. We don't see the implications of
following Jesus; they don't line our streets like they lined the streets of the
Roman Empire. We do not hear this gospel
in the actual shadow of an actual cross.
Peter knew Jesus was not talking in
metaphor. That is why he rebukes
him. Peter believes that Jesus is the
Messiah but not this kind of Messiah – not a suffering Messiah. Great men accomplish great things, revel in
great successes; they are not humiliated and publicly executed. Our gospel reading says that Peter “rebuked”
Jesus. It is the same word the gospel
writer uses when Jesus rebukes or silences demons. Like Jesus' own relatives earlier in the
Gospel, Peter suspects Jesus might be going insane. Like the scribes earlier in the Gospel, Peter
thinks Jesus could use an exorcism.
Peter is not messing around. His
accusation is swift and harsh.
And incredibly out of line. One source suggests, “Even without the sharp
language, anyone growing up in a traditional society would be horrified to
observe a disciple taking this tone with his teacher.”[2] And so Jesus' response to Peter is about what
one might expect given the context.
Jesus puts Peter in his place.
Our Gospel reading today is really
two small, very connected, episodes. In
the first episode Jesus is talking just with his twelve disciples. And while death is the topic, the death is
his alone. But then, after the
confrontation with Peter, Jesus calls a crowd to himself. The audience is larger. The second episode is much more public. And while death is still the topic, the death
about which Jesus speaks no longer concerns only Jesus but also any who want to
be his followers. And while in a broad
sense, any one who follows Jesus will one day die – just like any one who
chooses not to follow Jesus will one day die – the death at the end of Jesus'
path is violent and shameful, swift and harsh.
“If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take
up their cross and follow me.”
It is truly a shocking image: a
procession of battered women and men shouldering the instrument of their death,
following their dying King who takes the lead, shouldering his own cross. The scene could not appear more horrible,
more humiliating. Those expecting to
follow Jesus to his throne, to live in his palace, to share in his victory –
this is when they start feeling nauseous, start getting light-headed. This was an unexpected twist – and not a good
one.
Of course Peter reacted as he
did. He was a follower of Jesus. And he just realized how their work, their
mission, their friendship, would end: he would watch his Master die. And later he would die a death like his. That is hard news.
Peter would, a few decades after
Jesus, also die on a cross. But there is
more than one way to lose your life. It
doesn't always happen in one fell swoop.
It's not always the hard stop that Peter and the other martyrs of the
Church experienced. Sometimes it means
leaving little drops everywhere you go until your life blood is exhausted.
We have to talk about this passage
in metaphor. Our streets are lined with
crosses – not as instruments of death but to mark those places where Christians
gather for public worship. Times have
changed. Life has changed. But Jesus' call to his would be followers
remains the same. Jesus is still calling
us to lose our life for his sake and for the sake of the Gospel.
And what that means for us, 21st century Christians in northwest Ohio, is that
we are called to leave little drops everywhere we go until our life blood is
exhausted. We are called to die these
little deaths, to give up our lives bit by bit in the name of Jesus. And there is nothing flashy about this
gradual blood-letting. It means
following Jesus through the ordinary rhythms of life. It means loving over and over again and
forgiving over and over again and showing mercy over and over again and
yearning for justice over and over again.
And while the rest of the world is racing for glory and success, it
means following a battered King with his terrible cross.
Fred Craddock once said, “Usually
giving our life to Christ isn't glorious. It's done in all those little acts of
love, [a little bit] at at time. It would be easy to go out in a flash of
glory; it's harder to live the Christian life little by little over the long
haul.”[3]
There is more one way to lose your
life. Most of us are called to take our
cross on the long haul and give up our life a drop at a time.
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