Don't Hide the Cross

Westminster Presbyterian Church

March 8th 2009

Second Week of Lent

Mark R. Bradshaw-Miller

"Don't Hide the Cross"

Gen. 17:1-7,15-16; Mark 8:31-38

This passage from Mark’s gospel is a metaphor for the church’s ongoing struggle to be faithful in every age. Prior to this passage, Peter has just confessed that Jesus is the Messiah. It is a confession built upon the belief that Jesus had come back as a warrior king and that is why Jesus rebukes him and tells him to keep quiet. It is into this silence that Jesus speaks of his suffering. This makes no sense to anyone who expects a warrior savior, so on our behalf, Peter rebukes Jesus. The struggle for Peter is the same struggle facing the church. We know about the cross but do our best to ignore the reality of a crucified savior.

Jesus makes it clear that faith in him does not mean the end of suffering and struggle. To believe that faith means the end of suffering ignores the cross. In our modern time, to talk about picking up our cross, has been reduced to individual struggles or personal challenges. However, in Jesus time, there was no other meaning of the cross than political. Historian John Dominic Crossan makes this point well when he writes: “I want to emphasize that Roman crucifixion was state terrorism; that its function was to deter resistance or revolt, especially among the lower classes; and that the body was usually left on the cross to be consumed eventually by the wild beasts.” So, when Jesus uses the image of the cross his listeners would understand the realities and struggles of being faithful.

Despite it being clear then, we cannot simply transport it into our culture uncritically. In other words, the call to pick up the cross is not a call to voluntarily submit to capital punishment. There are clear implications for the follower of Jesus and capital punishment but that is not the full extent of the meaning of the cross. To understand the words of Jesus we need to see the encounter as getting at the crossroads of state power and the people of faith. New Testament scholar Ched Meyer writes: “The threat to punish by death is the bottom line of the power of the state; fear of this threat keeps the dominant order intact.” So when Jesus calls his follower to pick up their cross he is inviting all people to pick up that which holds fear over our lives. Jesus is inviting his followers to be released from this fear of death. What does this mean? It means that when we are set free from fear we are free to act in ways that humanize the world around us.

I am reminded of a story about a cemetery in Belfast Northern Ireland. You can learn much from the stories of cemeteries. Many years ago the cemetery had consecrated and non-consecrated burial plots. The unconsecrated, and unmarked, burial plots were left for the poor. Unknown in life and unacknowledged by the church in death, so goes the life of the poor. However, despite knowing this is the way the world works, one of the presiding bishop’s of Belfast humanized that situation at his death. Unable to change the policy in life, his will stipulated that he was to be buried in the middle of the unconsecrated ground. Not only did he place himself with the unknown and unacknowledged, there was another consequence. Church policy also dictated that the place a bishop was to be buried must be consecrated. And, as a result, the burial plots of all the poor became holy ground. I have come to believe that the actions of the bishop show that we can always something we have the power to do in order to humanize the world around us.

Being a follower of Jesus and being called by God to follow means that our life is going to be different. After all, at the heart of our faith is a story of a God who chooses two old people, foreigners, and immigrants in a strange land, to be the parents of great nations. God chooses the unexpected and powerless to change the world. Our God has always taken what was despised of the world and redeemed it for new life.

It is a hard thing to admit that our savior died by the most horrific capital punishment known in the ancient world. It was hard for Peter and it has been hard for the church. This year, we have brought out the oversized cross. It is not pretty or polished but it is here. During Lent we must give it a more central place so we do not forget that there is no need to hide from the pain and suffering in the world. Instead, it should be a sign of liberation, one that lets us know we can be agents of new life by humanizing, in the tradition of the human one Jesus, the most despised places of the world. We may not have the power to transform the world but each one of us has the power to turn some unconsecrated place in our lives into holy ground. Pray that God reveals to each one of us and to our community of faith, the places in which we are being called to act. Amen.

Rainbow Joy

WESTMINSTER PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH

March 1st 2008

Communion Meditation

First Sunday in Lent

Rev. Mark R. Bradshaw-Miller

“Rainbow Joy”

Gen 9:8-17, Mark 1:9-15

Since this is the first Sunday in Lent, a sermon title like; “Rainbow Joy” beyond sounding a little corny, seems out of place. After all, Lent is a time of repentance. It is a time to come face to face with the broken places of our lives and of humanity. And, in the midst of this time is the simple message that despite the brokenness in our lives, we are never beyond the love of God. It is for that reason that the idea of finding joy in a rainbow is not out of place at all as we begin our Lenten journey. (We can have a discussion about my choice of sermon titles on another day.)

The amazing truth that we learn but often forget is that God takes the simple things in our lives and gives them new meaning. When all the people and animals leave the ark, God makes a promise, a covenant with all living things. As a sign of this covenant is the well known symbol of the rainbow. However, if we are not careful we miss the important truth that God does not create the rainbow. The rainbow has already been around. God takes what we now know as light being refracted and turns it into a powerful symbol of peace.

In the ancient world the rainbow was not understood scientifically. The rainbow was actually a favorite weapon of the ancient pantheon of gods. So God reinterprets this ancient symbol of war, death and destruction and turns it into a sign of peace reconciliation and unity. No longer does anyone see a rainbow and think thoughts of war. Imagine an army going off to war under the banner of a rainbow. Indeed, God has removed that possibility. God takes the simple, already existing images of our lives and forever changes the meaning. If God can do that it should give us hope that indeed new life can always come out of the places of destruction.

When Jesus is baptized it is another time where the simple becomes the conveyer of so much more. In this action of washing and new life God tears open the heavens and let loose the Spirit. Because many of our baptisms are done with infants, and it is a celebration of joy, we can miss the world altering symbolism of baptism. The marking with water, whether of children or adults, is more than just a rite of passage but a symbol that we are marked for a purpose, claimed by the promise and love unconditionally.

Today was we gather at the table we do so around very simple things, bread and cup. These could not be simpler and the meal that we share here is not able to satiate our physical hunger. But in the gathering we proclaim something more powerful. Like the rainbow which is many but one, we become a new reality. As the bread is torn apart, we are reminded that the order of the world has been torn apart so that new life might find space to grow. The symbols are each powerful and have the ability to help us find joy in the most unlikely places. However, each of the symbols actually requires something of us.

In order for these symbols, the rainbow, water, bread and cup, to truly have the power to transform us individually and communally, we must be open to seeing the world with new eyes. These symbols require that we seek to see God at work in the refraction of light through water. We are called, through these symbols to look for God at work when the world gets shattered. We are called to look for God at work wherever food is shared and when diverse peoples not only come together but become friends.

Lent is about the reordering of our lives. It is about seeing the world in a new way. And for people set in our ways this is not always easy. We are too busy to ponder a rainbow. We are too distracted to appreciate the new reality made in baptism and we are too practiced in our rituals to expect anything at this table. Lent calls us to hope, to grasp for the possibility that the world is made new and to believe that joy can be found. So as you join me at the table, as we continue this Lenten journey, it is my prayer that the simple might become surprising and that the mundane might just become the place of new life. Amen.

Learning to Let Go

WESTMINSTER PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH

February 22^nd 2008

Rev. Mark R. Bradshaw-Miller

“Learning to Let Go”

2 Kings 2:1-13

Whether we were physically present at the Presidential Inauguration or not, and no matter your political persuasion, the way in which power is transferred is almost always an impressive ritual. And while this year much was made about each detail and who was included and in what capacity, in the ritual. No matter what, the event is newsworthy. But despite the ritual, Barak Obama because President by law, at noon, before he was officially sworn in. But, without the ritual somehow it just doesn’t feel right. In fact, because he made a mistake in his first swearing-in of a President, Chief Justice John Roberts left some people wondering if Barack Obama was really the President. In an attempt to end the speculation the White House called the Chief Justice just to cover all the bases. The only record of this event is one picture, much to the consternation of the White House press corps. While it seemed a lot like sour grapes for not being included, the complaints may have been rooted in the human need for the appropriate pomp and circumstance. “If they did not follow the proper and public ritual, surely this was not a real transfer of power.” There is something important about the proper ritual and protocol being followed. However, the transfer of power in this morning’s scripture is quite a failure along those lines. But despite lacking all the pomp and circumstance, it is a transfer of power of greater implication.

This transfer of power from Elijah to Elisha is not only a contrast to our recent inauguration but even more so to the Royal power in ancient Israel. Throughout the book of Kings, Elijah has been a living contrast between Torah faithfulness and Royal practice. Though they do not take center stage the company of prophets, which Elijah and Elisha encounter in each city, are also an ongoing challenge to royal authority. The order of prophets was faithful to Torah and followed Elijah. They operated outside the control of royal power structures. In other words, they were not prophets on the payroll. Instead they were a living witness for God.

The transfer of authority from one prophet to the other even occurs outside of the political boundaries. At the end of his farewell tour Elijah crosses the Jordan ignoring the political boundary. The contrast continues because there was also a royal succession occurring at the same time. Actually, the scene occurs after the passing of one king but before the new king ascends to power. God’s power and God’s prophets are not even bound by Royal time.

Even the succession of leadership breaks with convention. In royal time the King picks his successor, most often his first born son. However, when asked by Elisha to succeed him Elijah simply responds; if it is God’s will then it will happen and if not, so be it. By conventional standards it can seem reckless for one leader not to be concerned with the succession of power. But Elijah is content to trust that God can be trusted. But the last and most extraordinary contrast is that the transfer of power occurs outside the view of anyone. No one, not even the company of prophets sees what happens. Without a photo can you imagine the complaining of the royal press corps?! Throughout the scene we are given the message that God is going to work in the most unexpected ways.

This is something the Elijah obviously understands. On his farewell tour going from city to city he does not lobby for his followers to give their loyalty to Elisha. Elijah makes no attempt to ensure his legacy or establish control once he is no longer in power. Elijah seems to understand that any attempt along those lines shows a lack of trust in the ways of God. Elijah trusts God enough to let go of preconceived notions of what God ought to do. In other words, God is still faithful and can be trusted. It is a trust built upon deep knowledge of God’s actions.

It is on this point that we, as people of faith, have the most difficulty. In refusing to let go we end up domesticating God. It is not a conscience act but one that occurs as a result of familiarity and location. There is nothing wrong with familiarity. We should have an intimate knowledge of God and how God works. We must remember that God most often acts in places like deserts and exile and even outside the bounds of conventional or royal boundaries. But having this knowledge without a willingness to venture into unfamiliar locations or risk trusting God’s strange ways puts us at risk of domesticating God. Knowledge that God works in the desert places of life inside the walls of an established denomination or church setting is just too risky. However, when we do this, and we all do – myself included – we end up unable and even unwilling to trust God in the passing of the mantle.

While Elisha receives the mantle of Elijah he does not receive it from Elijah, instead it comes from God. It shows Elijah’s faithfulness to the very end. He gives the greatest gift of all. Elijah is a witness to faithfulness right to the very end of his life. As Presbyterians we have often been accused of not being good at passing the mantle, too much process and not enough trusting the spirit. But I believe that our process at its best is quite faithful, if we allow it. We do things by committee, when people of differing views and understandings come together to pray and discern the workings of the spirit in our time and place. Unlike non-profit organizations and business, the church’s goal is not about completing our prepared tasks but instead to seek God’s will, which is not always an easy thing. It requires trust and patience and most importantly a willingness to let go when we are no longer in power. The best gift we can give to one another is the demand that our process – our life together be built upon being attune to the work of the spirit. God is going to choose whom God will choose to serve and to lead. Our faithfulness depends on our ability to remind each other that the outcome may just surprise us. But, no matter what may come, God can still be trusted. Amen? Amen.

You Want Me to Do What?

WESTMINSTER PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH

February 15^th 2008

Rev. Mark R. Bradshaw-Miller

“You want me to do what?”

II Kings 5:1-14

Looking back over my calendar this past week I noticed that is has been five weeks since I last preached. Considering that fact it might seem odd to come back a preach two weeks from the book of Kings. It is probably safe to assume that few, if any of us have heard a sermon from these books. Given that reality then it is also safe to assume that my use of these texts says that there might be some hidden gem or I just want to know how well you can stay awake this morning.

By way of confession I do have a natural aversion to the book of kings which is not really all that logical. It all begins with the title, for a long time I ignored this book because I read the title and assumed too much. When I, or any of us, “judge this book by its cover,” the book of kings can seem like a long litany about the succession of kings in Judah and Israel. And while the book of kings does talk succession there is another witness which bears hearing. At its heart the books of Kings there is a story about the importance of the Torah over the temple, the worship of one God over many, and how often truth is found in the most unlikely places. In these books we find a world that is on the verge of social collapse and uncertainty about tomorrow mostly because of the greed and short-sightedness of the elite. I suppose it could be considered a bit contemporary. And, in the middle of this social unrest is a story of how God is still faithful and can be trusted.

Part of the power of this story is the repeated truth that Kings do not have the last or most important word. A powerful voice in this text comes by way of the prophets who do not reside inside the halls of power. The prophet Elisha, the wilderness prophet, is brought once again to center stage in our morning’s scripture. Next week we will learn how Elisha learned the ways of faithfulness. But this week we see him at full stature. When Naaman comes seeking this wilderness prophet, Elisha has already served in the places of power and with those on the margins of society. Throughout his journey Elisha never forgets that faithfulness to God alone means speaking the truth no matter the location or person.

Naaman is the sort of figure who people naturally would notice. He is a great military hero who walks the halls of power. But he suffers from a dreaded social disease. Despite his great military prowess he is not fully acceptable to the social world in which he walks. Despite access to all the resources he might need, this successful man cannot find healing and wholeness. Finally, in what looks to be desperation, Naaman decides to listen to the voice of a Hebrew slave. This great Syrian General finds himself asking his king for permission to seek alternative medicine in a foreign land.

The journey to healing for Naaman is not what he expects. Despite hearing about a wilderness prophet he decides to seek him out in the places of power. After arranging an official state visit Naaman enters the court of Israel’s King. Much to his surprise, and the King’s terror, healing is not found in the palace. Instead Naaman must travel to an out of the way place. The impressive group, with all its’ pomp and parade, head to the desert.

Naaman’s second surprise is that this miracle man will not even come out to see the great general! What was the prophet thinking? Does he not understand proper protocol? Or did his time with the King as royal prophet teach him that Naaman’s need for healing that goes well beyond the physical illness?

When Naaman is given the message that healing for him comes by washing in the muddy Jordan it is the last straw. Elisha has not offered the proper respect and does not offer a healing befitting one of the ages’ great generals. Fortunately, the scorned general does listen to the voice of an unnamed advisor. Because of his willingness to humble himself, by listening to the unnamed advisor and the strange wilderness healer, Naaman finds healing and restoration beyond his wildest imagination.

When Naaman is brought to wholeness he is overcome with joy and wants to pay for service rendered. Elisha will have none of it. After all, God’s healing is not for sale, despite reports to the contrary. Naaman not only expresses his gratitude but makes a profession of faith. This is no small act given that Naaman is from Syria and has spent his life in service to his nations Gods. However, this faith conversion does not turn out to be a story of “happily-ever-after.”

Naaman seems to know the perils that lie before him. He must now return to his home confronted with ever present questions. As a result of his healing, will he operate in the world of power politics in a new way? Will he listen to the voice of those without power? Will he reconsider the givens of his world and continue to look for healing in unexpected places? I believe the two mule loads of dirt that Naaman requests to take with him is a sign that he will seek to answer these questions in the affirmative.

While this may seem like a rather odd story about reversal of fortunes and strange wilderness healing, it is a contemporary story. As people who come to faith through Jesus, we too are invited to face the same questions which journeyed with Naaman the rest of his life. Having been offered healing and wholeness in Jesus will live in a world dominated by power politics in a new way? Will we listen; really listen to the voice of those without access? And will we continue to look for healing, for ourselves and others, in unexpected places? These are indeed contemporary questions. After all we too live in a time when the greed of a few has left the social fabric in tatters. As we face the uncertainty of tomorrow, let us find humility and those couple of loads of dirty which will remind us that God is still faithful and can be trusted. Amen? Amen.