Sermon for Pentecost 4 (Proper 7B), June 21. 2015

Text: Mark 4:35-41 and 2 Corinthians 5:1-10

            Beloved in Christ, we love our little Jesus. We love our little Jesus who enters our little world and solves our little problems. We are so happy for Him to come and fix our boo-boos and heal our emotional owies. We see Him as a great physician, more talented than an ordinary doctor, to be sure, but still like a physician. He treats His patients one by one, as any doctor must. He sees our physical and emotional ailments. He diagnoses what is wrong. He touches us and He cures us. Because He handles each case individually, nobody else understands what He is doing for each of us, just as we don’t know what He is doing for them. Those around us may not appreciate what is happening, but we know the change and the healing that He has brought to us.

            Now we know that Jesus is more than a healer of our bodies. He has come to restore our souls no less than our bodies. And so we call Him the Great Physician and acknowledge Him as the healer of both body and soul. But even as we acknowledge this added dimension to Christ, we are still tempted to think of Him exclusively in personal terms. We are quick to confess, as we ought, that “He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness,” even “through the valley of the shadow of death” so that “I will fear no evil.” We may acknowledge that He is doing similar things to other individuals, but we don’t necessarily see His grand plan. We may not even see His true divinity. After all, one doesn’t need to be divine in order to be a good physician, even a spectacular healer. Plenty of prophets in the Old Testament, such as Elijah and Elisha, healed people and even restored some to life. And so we may be tempted to consider Jesus to be like one more holy man with great powers to bring healing and life where disease and death prevails. Indeed, many people who had encountered Jesus so far assumed that that was all He was.

Joos de Momper the Younger,
Storm at Sea (Der Seesturm)

            But Jesus does something in today’s gospel that utterly amazes His disciples. He calms a storm. Our Lord was no longer treating a human body that occupied a few cubic feet. Instead, He was dealing with a whole weather system that governed the Sea of Galilee. His power was clearly more extensive than people had imagined. We can understand someone having power within them to touch another person and bring them health. But how can you touch wind and wave? How you can govern such unruly forces?

            The Israelites would have known that God alone can do that. They would have been familiar with Psalm 107, which describes God’s deliverance from a variety of evils. One of those evils described by the psalm is a storm that threatened to sink a ship. The psalm describes how the sailors called out to God, who heard their pleas and brought them safely to their harbor. For centuries the Israelites had prayed that psalm and learned that God alone could bring them to safety when they were in peril on the sea. But now Christ did something amazing, something that only God could do. It was just as the psalm described. The disciples “cried to the LORD in their trouble, and He delivered them from their distress. He made the storm be still, and the waves of the sea were hushed.” Clearly, then, Jesus is to be identified with the LORD God.

            This incident forces us to go back and re-evaluate who Jesus is. Is there any hint so far in Mark’s gospel that Jesus might be more than a healer or miracle-worker? Indeed, there is. The demons acknowledge Jesus to be the Son of God when they were cast out. Our Lord ordered them to keep quiet since it was not quite time for that truth to be revealed. But it was stated nonetheless. Then there is that curious phrase recorded in Mark 1, where we are told that Jesus was driven into the wilderness where He was tempted. Mark tells us that Christ “was with the wild animals.” Clearly, He had a bigger purpose than merely being tempted so He could help individual believers. He was out to restore all creation, to tame those ferocious beasts that had been made wild by mankind’s sin.

            When we think of sin and its effects, we tend to have too narrow of a scope. We look at sin as a personal problem. We have failed to live up to our potential. We made a mistake that embarrassed us or caused us some grief. Since we sinned personally and individually, then there are only personal and individual consequences. But that is not the case at all. Our sin affects other people. Think, for example, of how one man’s racist rage had devastating consequences for nine other people this past week. His sin wasn’t just a matter between God and him alone. Our sin may not be as heinous as his was, but it does harm and scar other people. And so when Christ dealt with our sin on the cross, He had to deal with the harm that we have caused others as well as the guilt we have borne.

            Today’s gospel reminds us that sin has a cosmic influence. Winds and wave are unruly because mankind is unruly. Our disorder has brought chaos into the physical world around us. There were no storms in Eden, just as there were no weeds, poisonous plants, vicious animals, and all the rest that we are familiar with. Instead, all of those things have come about because we are under God’s judgment for sin. The whole created world around us is not pleased with the way things are now. The Scriptures tell us that “the creation was subjected to futility…in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God.” Nowadays we are apt to debate how much of all the degradation of the created world around us mankind is responsible for. The truth is that we are responsible for all of it, for had we not turned away from God, there would never have been animals going into extinction, droughts, floods, and all the other so-called natural disasters. Each and every one of those events is a microcosm of the disorder we fill ourselves and others with.

            Our Lord Jesus Christ has come to be our Savior in every dimension. He isn’t just our Savior from the angst we naturally feel because of our guilt. No, He is our Savior from all the harm we have caused others. And He is our Savior to rescue us from the destruction we have brought into the created world. That is why Mark would later record that “there was darkness over the whole land” for three hours when Christ was on the cross. He had freed His disciples from a storm that had threatened to engulf them, but He Himself would not be spared. He allowed the darkness within creation to prevail over Him so that He could restore it to wholeness.

            When Christ rose from the dead, He reversed the curse not just on humanity, but on all creation. He has made us His new creation and now all “creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God.” We are not yet fully what we will be. And so part of what it means to be a Christian is that we live as part of God’s restored, new creation amid the decaying, old creation. We live with the tension between the two. Life often is difficult for us precisely because we are not yet where we are going. Moreover, we see that where we are going is grander than where we are; indeed, it is a far more expansive and greater future than we can imagine at the present. And so the old part of us is dying away and a new person is emerging. Now, the old part of us may have been content with a little Jesus who leaves us as we were, except just a tad better. But the new person in Christ that is inside of us understands a greater vision: we are part of a new creation that will encompass the entire universe one day.

            That is why the apostle Paul emphasizes in today’s epistle how he was willing to serve the Corinthians “in afflictions, hardships, calamities, beatings, imprisonments, riots, labors, sleepless nights, hunger.” If he were focused only on himself and his personal advancement, he would try to get out of all those things. Instead he embraced all these things “by purity, knowledge, patience, kindness, the Holy Spirit, genuine love; by truthful speech, and the power of God.” He and his fellow apostles could be treated by others as “imposters,” “unknown,” and “marked for death,” but he knew that he was the real deal, known to God, and not only living but giving life to his hearers.

            And so, beloved in the Lord, do not underestimate Jesus Christ. He is more than just an amazing healer. He is Lord of creation, and as Lord of all creation He has entered into this world and into your life. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

Sermon for Transfiguration Sunday, February 15, 2015

Text: Mark 9:2-9

            Beloved in Christ, if you read Mark’s gospel carefully, you notice this pattern emerging. Christ casts out a demon. Sh. Keep it a secret. Don’t tell anyone. Christ heals people. Sh. Keep it a secret. Don’t tell anyone. Christ tells parables that confound people, while offering an explanation only to His disciples. But sh. Keep it a secret. Don’t tell anyone its meaning, for they will not understand. And then He does the most amazing thing. He is transfigured before three of His disciples. He shines as no human being has ever shone before. He is attended by Moses and Elijah, the two greatest prophets of the Old Testament era. But sh. Keep it a secret. Don’t tell anyone.

            Why did Jesus want to keep these things secret? Casting out demons and healing people are good things. Why not talk them up? And what would be wrong with His disciples telling the whole world that they knew for certain that Jesus was truly God, for they had seen proof of His divinity with their own eyes? Well, let me give you an earthly example. Imagine that someone has decided to throw a surprise birthday party. Now there are all sorts of things that have to be done. Invitations have to be sent out. A cake has to be ordered, balloons bought, and presents purchased. If the honored guest catches wind of even one of these details, the whole effect is ruined. It is only when everything is ready and assembled that the secret is let out of the bag. And in the same way our Lord knew that His miracles and especially His transfiguration would be misunderstood “until [He] had risen from the dead.” Only after His crucifixion and resurrection would we be able to understand what had happened.

            You see, God’s glory and majesty and power mean nothing to us in themselves. It would have been wonderful if Christ could have shone in great glory and convinced all people to turn from sin and believe in Him and be saved from eternal damnation. But it doesn’t work that way. The glory of God by itself does not convince sinners to repent. The Israelites who were alive in Moses’ day had seen God pour out ten plagues upon the Egyptians. They had seen all the firstborn sons of the Egyptians killed in one night by the avenging hand of God while they themselves had suffered no loss. They had seen the Red Sea part so that they could cross it. When the Egyptians had tried to do the same, they had drowned. These Israelites had seen manna descend daily from heaven. They had seen Mount Sinai smoking with God’s presence as if it were a fiery volcano. They had then seen a bit of that glory stay with them in the form of a pillar of cloud by day and of fire by night that never left the camp.

            There has been no group of people in the history of the world who saw God’s hand so clearly as did that generation of Israelites who left Egypt. But what did they do? They constantly grumbled and complained. They behaved wickedly. They had heard God thunder from the mountain that they were not to worship any idols. And then, as the mountain was still smoking, what did they do? They made a golden calf and worshipped it.

            A similar thing happened in Elijah’s day, some six centuries later. The Israelites were worshipping Baal, a rain-god who claimed to be able to provide rain at regular intervals. So what did Elijah do? He prayed and God stopped any rain from falling in Israel for three and a half years. Some rain-god Baal proved to be! Then, to drive home the point, Elijah proposed a contest. Let those who worshipped Baal call on him to send fire from heaven to start a sacrifice. Elijah would do the same with the LORD God. Then they would see who the true God was. The worshippers of Baal prayed all day long but to no avail, but the LORD God consumed Elijah’s sacrifice. What a great victory for Elijah! But what did the Israelites do? They went back to worshipping Baal not long thereafter.

            God’s glory in itself will never change people. By itself it is a sign of judgment and thus it is a manifestation of the law. We can be terrified by His law for a while, but human stubbornness, selfishness, and sinfulness is more ingrained into us than is the fear of God. The effect of God’s glory wears off and we revert to our former wickedness. At best, a glimpse of God’s glory and the thundering of the law keeps us in check for a while. But it will not last for long. And sometimes it doesn’t even have that effect on us. Instead, we are so overwhelmed by the experience that we babble as Peter did.

            That is why God the Father didn’t tell Peter and the others to look more intensely at Christ’s glory. Instead, He said, “This is my beloved Son; listen to Him.” And at that time, when their ears were finally open to hearing Him, Christ was no longer transfigured or surrounded by the two prophets of old.

            Mark doesn’t tell us exactly what Jesus had been saying that Peter hadn’t been paying attention to. But Luke does. Luke tells us that Christ was discussing His upcoming mission to Jerusalem, where He would suffer and die on the cross before rising from the dead. And, indeed, Mark does relate that Jesus talked about those matters when He was coming down the mountain. Thus, it is clear that the most glorious thing that Christ could think about in His most glorious, transformative moment was the cross and the resurrection that would follow the cross. And that should be our focus too.

            You see, it is good to know that Jesus Christ is true God, but it is just as vital to know why He is true God in human flesh. He has come to save the world, and that could not be done while His face shone with glory. He had to be handed over to the authorities, and He had to look as if He were the least important person in all human history. The powers of that day had to think that He was the one person who could be manhandled with impunity because He was of no account. For He could not have died any other way.

            And yet Peter, James, and John were given this insight into Jesus so that they could have a different view of what was happening. Jesus wasn’t the weak, helpless man He appeared to be, but was the almighty Son of God. God hadn’t turned His back on Him, but rather approved of His mission of reconciling sinners to Himself. Christ was transfigured so that three of His disciples could understand better what He was up to. And we are told about His transfiguration so that we can understand His death and resurrection in a deeper way. Christ was no mere victim. He was no mere martyr for a cause. He was Almighty God, on a mission that only God could have accomplished.

            And this helps us to understand our lives too. If the Almighty Son of God did not show off His glory at all times, we too should expect that our lives here on earth will not always reflect the glory that will be ours in the resurrection, when we will receive our full adoption as God’s beloved children. If the Almighty Son of God put aside His glory and trod along the path that led to the cross, we too must expect to suffer while we are still here. But just as Christ knew that He was God’s beloved Son despite all that He would undergo, so we too should know that we are God’s beloved children, no matter what pain or grief we experience. Just as Christ continued to trust in His Father when His enemies beat and mocked Him, so we too should trust in our heavenly Father when we suffer, especially for our faith. God is still in control. Christ still is the glorious Son of God. Nothing we undergo can separate us from that truth.

            We know that our life here on earth is an episode in a much greater story. It isn’t the whole story. Yes, it is full of sadness and gloom at times. It is set in a dark valley, the valley of the shadow of death. But it is these dark chapters that set up a more glorious end to the tale. We think back to the glories that began the story and we press on to the glories that will be ours in the end.

            This is especially important for us to remember as we approach the Lenten season. Lent is a time when we take discipleship more seriously than we usually do. We might be tempted to grab onto a moment of glory and let it compel us to be better disciples than we have been. But that is just as foolish as Peter trying to build three tents and camp on the Mount of Transfiguration for the rest of his life. Instead we are sent back down into the valley and on a lonely, winding path that leads inexorably to the cross. It is in the cross of Christ that we will find our redemption. It is the cross of Christ that will renew us and make us better disciples.

            Therefore, beloved in Christ, keep this vision of Christ in your heart. Let it be a secret that sustains you on your Lenten journey and prepares you to celebrate Him who has risen from the dead. In Jesus’ name. Amen.