Mark 10:46-52 - "The Power of Words"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w6gEMGuPzxg

         The power of words:  In a way, it is that power which lies at the very heart of this passage in the Gospel of Mark that we just read.  Of course there is the power embodied in Jesus’ words to the blind man, Bartimaeus – “Your faith has saved and healed you.”  That is obvious.

         However, there is also the power in the words that the beggar chooses to get Jesus’ attention in the first place – “Son of David, have mercy on me.”  And there is power in the words of the simple request that he makes of Jesus:  “I want to see.”

         According to the writer of this Gospel, today’s story is the last healing that Jesus will ever do.  He is in Jericho, some fifteen miles outside of Jerusalem, his final destination. 

         We who are in the know realize that in a few days time Jesus will process into the Holy City through a secondary gate riding a donkey, the proverbial beast of burden, backed by the peasant population waving its palm branches and shouting for the kind of Messiah that he will never be. 

         We know that he has planned his arrival to coincide with the Passover, one of the most holy of Jewish festivals, and so he recognized that the city would be teeming with pilgrims who had traveled from near and far, singing their Psalms of Ascent along the way, come to offer their sacrifices in the Temple and so to worship Yahweh/God in the purest form possible.

         Once inside the city gates, we know that Jesus will do all those things we associate with Holy Week – turning the tables in the Temple and twisting the minds of the Pharisees in debate and discussion, pushing the envelope father and farther until he is arrested and then tried in the best monkey court of the day for blasphemy, a euphemism for riling up the crowds during the holiday season.  And we know that all his rabble rousing will lead – perhaps inevitably - to his crucifixion, death, and burial in a borrowed tomb.

         But we are not in Jerusalem yet.  We are in Jericho, and it is not a particularly nice or safe city.  It was seedy and down at the heels, known for its bandits and pickpockets.  Apparently not much of note happened to Jesus and his buddies there, however, because the Gospel writer tells us that they arrived – and in the very next sentence – that they departed Jericho.  And we are left to assume that it is what occurred in the aftermath that is important – and we are so right. 

         So let’s follow this little band as it continues its way to Jerusalem – followed by a growing crowd of the impoverished and marginalized.  They must have been making quite a racket because it seems that Bartimaeus heard them from quite a ways off.  He was sitting in his usual spot by the side of the road, living off the social welfare system of the day.  He was a beggar, scooping up the handouts, bits of food, and the couple of coins that came his way. 

         Not only was he a beggar, he was blind.  He lived in a world of darkness.  As Presbyterian pastor, Martha Fairchild, writes, there he was “listening to the thud of feet passing, the click of harnesses, the murmurs of the crowd that surrounded Jesus. He felt the hot sun on his face, smelled the complex scents of crowd and animals and baking ground. Perhaps he tasted the salt of his own sweat as he sat there. But he saw nothing.”

         Perhaps it was a sense of excitement in the air – or even the Holy Spirit swirling about.  We do not know, but, whatever it was, it caused Bartimaeus to cry out, almost a keening that swelled up from some place deep within his soul. 

         “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.” 

         The crowd, of course, and most particularly the disciples, tried to hush the beggar up – and well they should have – because it was not simply a case of bad manners on the part of Bartimaeus.

         As United Church of Canada pastor David Ewart reminds us, to call someone "’Son of David’ was a way of referring to the Messiah, the Christ, the Anointed (One) who would fulfill God's promise that a descendant of David would reign over Israel forever.  At the time of Jesus, this would mean overthrowing the current King Herod and routing out the occupying Roman army…It is likely that the crowd (is) urging Bartimaeus to keep quiet because shouting in public that someone is the Son of David, the long-anticipated Messiah, would attract the attention of Roman sentries - with nothing but bad results.”

         It is the power of words.  However, the power of these words comes not from this stabbing fear of a breach in security or even in the potential to attract Roman attention.  The power of these words comes from the fact that Bartimaeus, in spite of his blindness, recognized who Jesus was.  “Jesus, Son of David, Christ, Anointed One, Messiah, have mercy on me.”

         For three years, Peter, James, John, and the others had watched the healings happen first hand.  They had listened to Jesus speak in the synagogue and argue with the Pharisees.  They had struggled over the parables and his teachings about the Good News of God.  They had been in plain view of this man Jesus, and, with the exception of Peter’s bumbling proclamation at Caesarea Philippi, they had failed to see what was before their very eyes, the embodiment of God. 

         The one who saw – who really saw - was the one who was blind.  Bartimaeus - no wonder we know his name.  No wonder he does not go name-less as the rich young man did, the one who asked Jesus what he needed to do to find the Kingdom of God, and Jesus told him to give his possessions to the poor and come, follow me. 

         Bartimaeus has a name – and that is important because we know the power of a name.  In naming the blind beggar, the Gospel writer wants us to conclude that Bartimaeus got it.  He understood. 

         Talk about the power of words.  Oh, that Gospel writer is so smart!  “Bar” from the Hebrew meaning “son of.”  “Timaeus” meaning “honor.”  Bartimaeus, the “son of honor:”

The one who was blind was able to see; the one who, as we shall soon realize, understood the cost of discipleship, understood what was needed to have the place of honor so desired by James and John as we read about last week.  Bartimaeus, the “son of honor.”  And guess who will be sitting at Jesus’ right hand in the Kingdom?

         But back to the story.  The blind beggar cried out to Jesus shamelessly even as the crowd tried to hush him up. 

         “You be quiet!”


         “I will not be quiet! What I have to say is important! You be quiet!”


         “Me? Who do you think you’re talking to? I don’t have to be quiet – YOU be quiet!”


         “Blah blah blah” – and so on and so on. 

         Jesus, of course, ignores the advice of the masses and calls out Bartimaeus – and asks him, using the very same words that he had used when James and John had approached him - in fact, when they had approached him in the very verses that precede this story. 

         “What can I do for you?” Jesus queries. Oh, the power of words. 

         Whereas James and John’s request was to sit at Jesus’ right and left hands in a kingdom that they did not understand was so far removed from Jesus’ hopes and expectations, Bartimaeus has a simple supplication.  “Rabbi, I want to see.”

         And Jesus answered him with words so powerful that, if you really listen, you might feel them even now within this sacred space. 

         “Oh, blind beggar Bartimaeus, on your way. Your faith has saved and healed you.  Don’t you know?  You already see.  You in your poverty who sit by the side of the road, relegated to the margins of society, you in your blindness, see better than even my disciples who do not see at all.  You understand.”

         And Bartimaeus, “son of honor,” really did get it in a way that no one else in this Gospel ever did.  The writer tells us so by mentioning that Bartimaeus threw off his cloak and followed Jesus. 

         The power of words.  You see, in Jesus’ time, those who had money dressed differently than those who did not.  The wealthy had an undergarment as well as a cloak.  The poor had to make due without the undergarment.  They only had a cloak that served as both clothing and blanket. 

         And so when Bartimaeus threw off his cloak, he stood naked before Jesus.  Unlike the rich young man who could not bear to part with his possessions, the blind beggar gave away everything he had, and he followed our rabbi without even the shirt on his back – followed him into Jerusalem, followed him to the cross, to death, and to the resurrection.

         As Philip McLarty, a preacher who has served both Presbyterian and Methodist congregations remarks, “that’s what makes the story of Bartimaeus so compelling because, of all the people Jesus healed and raised from the dead, Bartimaeus was one of the few who responded by following Jesus.  Check it out – there’s Peter’s mother-in-law, Jairus’ daughter, a woman who’d been bleeding for umpteen years, and a smattering of demon-possessed individuals….Instead of saying, “Thank you very much,” and going on about his business, Bartimaeus left his old life behind and followed Jesus. …We remember Bartimaeus and know him by name, not because Jesus healed him of his blindness, but because, once he could see, he devoted his life to Jesus Christ.”

        In the end, the Gospel of Mark is all about call.  It is about discipleship and what it means to follow Jesus, what it means to devote your life to this one we call the Son of God. And this particular story of call is also about seeing.  It is about really seeing what Jesus is all about – and then acting accordingly. 

         The story is also about the power of words, and for us, this morning, it is about the power of words in the sense of how we choose to talk about the needs of the church in the context of call, discipleship, following Jesus, devoting our lives to the one we call the Son of God.  It is about how the church – this church - sees what Jesus is all about.

         And on this Stewardship Commitment Sunday, let’s face it:  The church – this church - sees money.  You see money disappearing from your paycheck to support RVCC next year.  The Council sees money coming in, so it can keep these doors open. 

         But how we really see this money is what is vitally important.  So maybe this is a good time to check our vision because it is too easy for us as the church to get all entangled up in dollars and budgets and numbers of members.         

         And when we fall into that trap, we are blind.  We lose sight of ministry – and that is what the church is all about.  Who wants to support an organization whose prime desire is to pay the bills?  Who wants to support an organization that cannot see past balancing its budget?

         Your generous giving today and in the days ahead is not about the price of oil or how many times a year we can afford to produce a color bulletin.   Your generous giving is not about balancing a budget. 

         If you really see as Bartimaeus really saw, you would realize that the church is about following Jesus – and so your pledges and gifts are about ministry. 

         They are about all the things we do around here to create community in a world where community is so lacking and yet is so needed.  It is about the suppers we host, the movie nights the kids in the Youth Group invite their friends to, our community hymn sings. 

         Your generous giving is about the mission ministry we have – the financial assistance we can offer, the 50+ Thanksgiving baskets we coordinate and give away, the mission trip we will take this summer to the Maine Seacoast Mission in Washington County, one of the most impoverished parts of our state. 

         That is what money is about around here.  It is about discipleship.  It is about following Jesus.  It is about Jesus calling you and me – and how we choose to respond.  It is about ministry, and it is about the power of words.  And if you can see that, then you have seen with the eyes of the blind beggar.

by Rev. Nancy Foran

www.rvccme.org

www.twitter.com/rvccme

Mark 10:35-45 - "Down the Ladder"

         I listened recently to a public radio presentation on parasomnia, which is category of sleep that often expresses itself in rather dramatic sleepwalking.  Basically, a person’s dreams are extremely vivid because the veil between sleep and wakefulness is extraordinarily thin.  A parasomniac actually acts out a complete dream in his or her real life setting – sometimes to humorous - and not so humorous - consequences.

         In one true story that the program host related, a man dreamt that he had won third place in the Olympics.  However, just as he was about to receive his bronze medal, the International Olympic Committee President interrupted the awards ceremony to announce a grievous error.  The man, in fact, had actually won the event, and he should be presented with the gold – not the bronze – medal. 

         The man was overjoyed, of course, and immediately began to climb onto the top spot on the podium.  However, as he did so, the podium began to shake uncontrollably and then crumpled to the ground.  It was at that point that the man awoke, only to discover that, in his parasomniac state, he had left his bed, climbed to the top of a bookcase, and the bookcase had toppled over.

         Now I tell you this story not to initiate a discussion on unusual sleep habits, but rather to point out our very human obsession with being first.  Blogger Nancy Rockwell describes the phenomenon like this.

         “First.  The word permeates our thinking, informs our social relations, orders our values and our world, tells us who we are in the bustling human sea….First Born, First Chance, First Place, First Signs, First Opportunity.  We understand ourselves in relation to the firsts that are part of our lives….First Things, First Time, First Base, First Prize….Firsts are how we know where we are and where we are going….First Lady, First Family, First World, First Act, First Place, First Among Equals….Firsts establish a social order, and we all know it. …First Step, First Tooth, First Word…These mark our progress from the beginning of our lives.”            And it was no different for James and John, two of Jesus’ disciples who are featured in today’s Gospel lesson.  Now, one might label this duo immature, dimwitted, or even socially irresponsible because of what they did that day.  However, you cannot fault them for their honesty. They knew what they wanted, and they did not hesitate to ask for it.

        Now, I know that we are all told throughout school and sometimes beyond that there are no stupid questions.  However, James and John really did give the lie to that particular piece of advice.  You have got to admit that they asked, if not a stupid, then a really inappropriate question.

         “Teacher,” they said as they initiated this particular conversation, “we want you to do for us whatever we ask.” 

         Now how audacious is that statement?  God, can you give me an A on that test? Jesus, I need a girlfriend.  Spirit, I really want a Porsche.  

         Holy One, “my lawn’s looking a little dry. I need for you to send some rain - but not Thursday afternoon. That’s when I play golf. I’d appreciate it if it could be dry then. Wait until Friday morning. Yes, that would be good. (Hold it), I’ve got that long drive to that big sales meeting. I can’t afford for the roads to be slick so that it slows me down. Could you make it rain just enough to take care of the lawn but not affect the roads?”

         “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask.”  James and John were bold and brash.  They did not pull any punches.  However, Jesus did not fall into that rather obvious trap.  Instead he asked for specifics.  “What is it? I’ll see what I can do.”  

         “Arrange it,” they said, “so that we will be awarded the highest places of honor in your glory—one of us at your right, the other at your left.” 

         They wanted the first class seats when Jesus became king – no doubt about it.  They wanted the power and the glory that should be part and parcel of the kingdom as they saw it – and besides that, apparently James and John did not think there was going to be enough of that power and glory to go around because they did not ask Jesus this favor on behalf of all the disciples.  They asked it in secret – just for themselves.

         And, boy, were the other ten disciples angry about that.  You see, they too wanted premium seats.  They too wanted the power and prestige that in their little minds were surely their due after the years they had given to this itinerant rabbi. 

         Did these guys not get it?  Were they really such blockheads?  Jesus had already told them twice that he was bent on getting to Jerusalem and that he expected to encounter immense suffering there as well as absolute rejection and even death.  Though we often call these revelations of Jesus “passion predictions”, they are probably better labeled as “Interpretations of the Messiah’s Mission.”  (David Lose)

         The long and the short of it was that the future with Jesus was not going to be a Sunday School picnic.  And it was certainly not going to be like the pomp and circumstance that James and John envisioned when they imagined Jesus entering Jerusalem and being crowned the long awaited king of all Judaism. 

         In spite of all the time they had spent with Jesus, in spite of Jesus trying his best to interpret again and again and again the essence of his mission, the foundation of the kingdom he proclaimed, and the role of discipleship, James and John (and the other ten for that matter) still did not get it. 

         They continued to imagine the formidable white horse on which Jesus would ride as he overtook the Holy City.  They still saw in their mind’s eye the banquet table and the dais and the two of them seated on either side of King Jesus.

         They conjured up the only image of leadership that they had ever experienced.  As Christian Church pastor, Mickey Anders writes, “The traditional image of leadership…is that of an autocratic person controlling and manipulating the actions of others. This approach has been practiced throughout the world among virtually all cultures. 

         Sometimes both followers and leaders prefer this kind of leadership because it relieves the followers of the necessity of thinking for themselves and of taking responsibility for their own actions and it gives leaders virtually unlimited power.  Jesus declared, however, that this type of leadership was not to be exercised.” 

         In short, the disciples visualized Jesus as simply taking the place of Herod, of Pilate, of Caesar himself.

         “Arrange it,” they had said, “so that we will be awarded the highest places of honor in your glory—one of us at your right, the other at your left.” 

         The disciples thought they knew who Jesus was and what he was about, but the reality was that they had no vague idea – even after all this time.  And Jesus once again sadly shook his tired head and softly replied, “You have no idea what you are asking.”  And then he used two ancient images of death – baptism and the cup of suffering – to try to make his point clear - but apparently to no avail. 

         “Are you capable of drinking the cup I drink, of being baptized in the baptism I’m about to be plunged into?”

          “Sure,” they said. “Why not?” And then Jesus told them what perhaps they should have realized all along.   “As to awarding places of honor, that’s not my business. There are other arrangements for that.”

          But that was not the end of the discussion.  You see, in one final effort before the final push to the Holy City, Jesus described to the Twelve his unique style of leadership – and if you remember nothing else about this sermon or even about the Gospels themselves, remember the gist of this final part of their conversation.

         “You’ve observed how godless rulers throw their weight around,” Jesus said, “and when people get a little power how quickly it goes to their heads. It’s not going to be that way with you. Whoever wants to be great must become a servant. Whoever wants to be first among you must be your slave. That is what I have done: I came to serve, not to be served.”

         As Lutheran pastor David Lose writes, “Jesus invites them not just to re-imagine but actually to redefine their understanding of power, prestige, status, and leadership. In this case he defines leadership as serving the needs of another. Which means that glory comes not from individual accomplishment but from service.”

         It is not a question of upward mobility in a world of power games and overwelming insecurity about having enough – enough time, money, prestige, or love.  

It is not a question of upward mobility in a world crowded with cultural messages that run roughshod over the essence of the gospel message to help our neighbor.  It is not a question of upward mobility in a global society that encourages us to look out for #1 - at any cost. 

         It is not a question of upward mobility, but rather it is a matter of intentionally stepping downward on the ladder – rung after rung - until we are at a vantage point to be able to really look our neighbor in the eye, until we are near enough to place a bowl of food into empty hands, until we are close enough to reach out and touch the untouchable, hug the unhuggable, and love the unlovable. 

         As Mickey Anders writes so accurately, “Jesus declares that it is only in service that one may become great.  By his example and by his direct teaching, Jesus showed the way to real leadership for us today, (which is)…not power but love, not force but example, not coercion but reasoned persuasion.”

         We call it servant leadership (a term coined by Robert Greenleaf in his book describing effective leadership in secular organizations). For us in the church, it is where each one of us, because we are Christian, acts as “a caring, humble individual who seeks the good of all, as the group of people whom he or she leads accomplishes the organization's objectives." (http://www.regent.edu/acad/schbus/cur/entr665-00fa/entr665-syllabus-00fa.htm)

         And servant leadership is not easy.  That is for sure. It will mean accepting as our own those ancient images of death (baptism and the cup of suffering), which Marcus Borg interprets metaphorically.  That is, it will mean "a dying of the self as the center of its own concern" and "a dying to the world as the center of security and identity." It is that kind of dying, that “radical re-centering” that will lead to transformation, that will lead us to the Kingdom.

         But it works.  Servant leadership works – and deep down inside we all know that.  Our culture’s road to glory, our culture’s brand of autocratic, bullying, “we are #1” leadership, is outdated, unworkable, and unsustainable.  It leads only to a dead end. 

         And we all know that when we have put someone else’s needs first – not because it was demanded of us, not because we wanted to please that person or wanted something in return – but when we did it simply for the sheer delight of helping, of serving, of stepping down the ladder, rung after rung – when we have done that, amazing things have happened.  

         We lent a hand.  We brought over a meal.  We were motivated not by our insecurities about whether we had enough time, enough food, enough love.  Instead we were motivated by the joy of giving to someone else. 

         And we found that we received in some inexplicable way more than we gave.  And our reward was not just gratitude from the one we served but also an injection of courage and sense of purpose to our own lives.  We discovered that to lead by serving, to lead by coming down the ladder rather than expecting that the only way to go was up, to lead in that way was indeed to walk in the footsteps of Jesus.

by Rev. Nancy Foran, Raymond Village COmmunity Church, Raymond, Maine

www.rvccme.org

Mark 10:17-31 - "It's the Economy, Stupid!"

         Once there was a young man with an excellent job.  He shaved every day and dressed well.  He vacationed in Hawaii for the snorkeling and Park City, Utah, for the skiing.  The cuffs of his pants were never frayed, and his socks were clean.  He only had one credit card, which he paid off in full every month without fail, and he had not defaulted on a single student loan.  He donated 2.5% of his household income to charity, which was exactly the median percentage for charitable contributions of people in his town.

         He went to church each Sunday  - even when the weather was inclement - and sat in the same pew about half way back.  He would be an asset to any congregation.  He could quote the Scriptures fairly extensively, and he attended Bible studies and book groups to learn more about theology and his faith.  He tried not to lie or cheat – and as far as the Ten Commandments went, well, he skyped his parents once a week, and he was honest, and since he was not married yet, the whole adultery thing really did not apply to him anyway.

         However, when he sat in church, much of the time his mind wandered – even when the choir was singing majestically and the preacher was preaching gloriously. 

It was that same niggling feeling that kept interrupting his thoughts, even when he did his best to shove it back down into his unconsciousness. 

         “Is this all there is?” he kept wondering.  “I have everything.  I have no worries.  Why do I feel empty?  Trapped?”

         And so one day, the young man went to his pastor.  He slouched down in the big comfy chair in the old man’s office and asked him.  “What’s missing in my life?”  And in response, the pastor told him a story that went like this.

         The devil was on the prowl one day and was out to get a Christian. When he saw an unsuspecting young follower of Jesus, he shot one of his fiery darts straight at him.  That dart struck the Christian right in the chest.  One might have thought that the Christian was dead meat – except for the fact that the young man had on the breastplate of righteousness, so he was not harmed.

         Not to be outdone, the devil next fired a shot at the Christian's head.  However, the helmet of salvation protected him, and so the fiery dart had no effect. 

         Then the devil figured that three’s the charm and aimed for the Christian’s Achilles heel.  After all, everyone has an Achilles' heel, so he shot at the Christian's feet but was foiled again.  You see, those feet were shod with the gospel of peace, so no damage was done.

         All the while, the young Christian smirked at the devil until he finally thumbed his Christian nose and turned around to walk away. The devil laughed too as he fired a final arrow into the Christian's wallet.  It killed him instantly.

         The young man in the pastor’s office was stunned at the story.  He silently rose from the comfy chair and walked out of the church building, a tear running down his cleanly shaven cheek.

         Oops!  Sorry!  That’s not what the Bible says.  That’s some newfangled modern story.  Listen up.  Here is the real story….Mark 10:17-31.

         Last week the Pew Research Center released a report on Americans’ religious affiliations.  It found that nearly one in five Americans claimed no religious affiliation, meaning that they did not identify themselves as members of a church, synagogue, or mosque.  That really should not surprise us here in Maine, which has traditionally been one of the nation’s least religious states. 

Maybe there is some truth to the old adage – “As Maine goes, so goes the nation.”

         However, what I did find surprising – and more than a little disheartening – was one of the major reasons cited by those surveyed about their lack of an affiliation.  As one respondent said, “I definitely think that some religions are too engaged in the political sphere.”

         And yet, as Christians, as those who say we follow the way of Jesus, how can we not be engaged in the political sphere?  After all, Jesus certainly was.  Why do you think he ended up being executed?  What with all the overturning of the tables in the temple and the preaching about basic human rights for the impoverished – blessed are the poor – and that whole crazy expectation of daily bread and forgiveness of debts – Jesus was messing way too much with the politics of Rome and with the Roman domination system of haves and have nots. 

         Now former President Bill Clinton will be remembered for a lot of things, but one of them is likely to be his campaign slogan – “The economy, stupid.”  It is about the economy. 

And for us, as Christians, it is about the economy, and this passage - without a doubt - brings that message home – home to our hearts and home to our souls.  

         Now before you stifle a yawn at the word “economy” or your eyes roll back in your heads at the thought of the current disagreements and vice presidential sparring over spending, tax cuts, and the salvation of the middle class, let’s first just look at the root of the word “economy.”  It derives form two Greek works:  “oikos” meaning house and “nomos” meaning rule.  Economy then is how a household is organized and structured – the household rules, so to speak.

         That was what the young man was asking Jesus about in this passage we just heard.  His question, as Baptist pastor Jerrod Hugenot wrote, is this: “What is the measure of a person’s worth?   Who has the last word on economics?  Will the “house rules” be determined by the elite, the “powers that be” that work with Rome and the Temple…or (by) the Lord God whose kingdom Jesus is proclaiming?”

        And Jesus’ answer clearly is that, in the end, the Kingdom, which he proclaims, will determine the house rules –and those rules are not going to mirror the cultural rules currently in place.  And so Jesus tells the young man to relieve himself of his possessions – not by heaping them on a garbage dump or hiding them in a closet – but by giving them to the poor, to the have nots. 

         Not because wealth is bad, mind you, because our God is a God of abundance and that God wants you and me to have three square meals a day as much as the Holy One want the homeless man in Portland with his cardboard sign to be properly fed.  Not because wealth is bad but because, in the end, our material blessings are gifts from God and are meant to be shared. 

         And Jesus goes on to tell his disciples that it will be harder for a big old camel to fit through the teeny tiny hole at the end of a needle than it will be for people who put their trust in material possessions to enter the Kingdom.  Not because material possessions are bad, mind you, but because the opposite of rich is not poor, but rather it is free. 

         As Christian Church pastor Mickey Anders wrote, the young man in our story “was not free to take the hand of Jesus because his hand was too full of his things and his love of things.  He might as well have had a ball and chain around his leg.  He was not free to follow Jesus.”

         It is like the art of trapping monkeys.  One technique, you know, is to drill a hole in a coconut and place rice in the coconut.  A monkey will come along and stick a paw into the coconut, grab a fistful of rice, and then be unable to pull its paw back out of the coconut.  He is trapped by his greed.  All he would have to do is let go of the rice, freeing his hand, and he could draw it out.  The problem is that the monkey places greater value on the rice that he is holding than he does on his freedom.  (Mickey Anders)

         So where does this passage from the Gospel of Mark leave us this morning – just days before you will receive some information in the mail about money and this church?  Is this a secret stewardship sermon?  I suppose so, though I like to believe that we talk about stewardship throughout the year here in our church – that many of our Biblical passages highlight Jesus’ affirmation of, and our obligation to, the poor and the role that the church should play in all that – that we recognize that the way of Jesus which we say we are following is about the economy, stupid.

         However, let’s face it.  We do have a hard time talking about money here in church.  It is so much easier to compartmentalize our faith – some things being public and others being private affairs.   As Lutheran pastor David Lose comments, “we think about faith when it comes to making sure our kids (are)… saying…prayers at meal time but not when it comes to balancing our checkbook… or what political stances and candidates we support.”

         
However, this passage in Mark asserts that our faith should influence all aspects of our life.  As David Lose continues, “God, in fact, cares about what we do with our money for at least two reasons. First, how we spend our money has a great impact on the welfare of our neighbor… Indeed, the question we often hear during election-season – "Are you better off (now than you were) four years ago?" – suddenly seems glaringly at odds with the biblical mandate to care for each other. I mean, should (not) we rather be asking, "Is my neighbor better? Are we as a community and nation and world better? And, perhaps most importantly, what can I do about it?"

         Second, how we spend our money has a great impact on our own welfare as well…Jesus knows that there are few things more important for us to do than to share our abundance. From volunteering at a (soup kitchen) to giving money to ensure that fewer people go to bed hungry, each time we share what we have with others, we are blessed as much or more as the recipient of our care. Jesus does not command the young man in the story to give away what he has in order to cause him grief or to test him, but (he commands him) out of love.”

         And about that love business, the fact that Jesus answered the young man out of love.  Why did he love him?  I think Jesus loved him because the young man actually thought about these things.  He struggled with his affluence.  He was not content to just sit in church each Sunday, and deep down inside he knew there was something more than being content to give 2.5% of his income to charity. 

         The young man dared to ask the hard questions – and Jesus loved him for that.  Jesus regretted his answer, to be sure, and his decision not to follow, but he loved him for struggling with how to respond to the blessings he knew in his life.

         That is all I ask of you in the coming weeks with the stewardship campaign looming – just to struggle with how to respond to the blessings you know in your lives.  It’s the economy, stupid.  It is the house rules you choose to put into practice.  It is figuring out how much this church means to you and to what extent you will work through this church to both thank God for your material blessings and to ensure that your neighbor really is better off.   

         That is all I ask of you in the coming weeks – just to struggle with that public/private dichotomy and come to terms with your relationship to your money and your relationship to the way of Jesus and to the God of abundant blessing.

         That is all I ask of you in the coming weeks – just to answer in your heart of hearts these questions:  First, how has God blessed you in the past year - either through this church or in general?  And second, how do you feel God is calling you to respond to those blessings?