September 27, 2009
The Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

LOOKING AT OUR DISCIPLESHIP
Mark 9:38-50

“Come and join our church – it’s really easy!” There is truth in that statement, but also tremendous irony. The truth is, it is easy! But it can also be the hardest thing you ever do.

This entire “discipleship” section of Mark’s is full of irony. In fact, it is so full of irony that, if the stakes weren’t so high, we could play it all as pure comedy, even slapstick: Abbott and Costello, Laurel and Hardy, Bill and Ted, and the Three Stooges all running into walls and door jambs and each other, trying to escape a scary situation.

But the stakes are too high, and a sense of impending tragedy hangs over every bumbling move the disciples make. This drama (which is really our drama) is set at the crossroads where comedy and tragedy meet, and where truth, full of pain and delight, humor and hope, emerges in all its brutal and wonderful splendor.

But first, let’s put ourselves in this story. Let’s each choose a disciple to be today. I think I’ll be Thomas, because I often identify with him, but you be whoever you want to be. That’s who we are in this drama: the followers of Christ. And with that identification done, we may more clearly see the ironies, feel the struggles, and experience the fear and hope that is discipleship, as we travel down the road with Jesus.

The spotlight falls first and last upon Jesus. He is walking ahead of us, as usual, minding his Father’s business. Soon, he will “set his face” to go to Jerusalem, and he knows what will await him there: suffering, ridicule, and death. He has already begun to warn us about all this. And yet, his stride and his resolve are firm, resolute, determined. He doesn’t go easily into this, but his mind and heart are clear. He knows the purpose of his life and of his suffering and death. “For the Son of man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” Being clear on God’s purpose for him is what strengthens his step.

Jesus leads, and we are following – “in his steps,” as Charley Sheldon said it, a generation ago – but not really, because our steps are halting, tentative, too often ignorant of God’s purpose. Minding only our own business, our steps wobble and trip over things like who is in and who is out of our group, who is worthy and who isn’t. We keep running into rocks and trees and each other and our own narrow selves, even though Jesus is right there in front of us.

Like Jesus, we too may sense the impending tragedy, but we don’t see any purpose in it. Strung out behind Jesus, we walk the same road, but anxiously, fearfully. We argue about who is going to be the greatest, about how we’re going to throw the Romans out, and about how great it’s going to be to be on the winning team. We’re with the victor, and we’ll get the spoils – wealth, power, prestige – we’ll be waited on hand and foot! Like the billboard I saw some years ago advertising a church just outside of Lewisville, Texas, we’re “training for reigning!” What irony! What tragic comedy!

While Jesus speaks of suffering and death, we argue and set our own standards for admission into his Kingdom. While Jesus tells us that his community is intended to include all, we are trying to limit the community to people just like us.

As the curtain falls, and the spotlight fades, we disciples stand there for a moment gaping as the reality of discipleship begins to seep in, and we may sense a strength and a peace there, even in the midst of our stumbling and bumbling. We may begin to sense direction, purpose, and courage.

OK, I want to leave behind the vehicle of the drama now, and let us resume our normal identities. I would also like to say a few things about what I hear in this drama about our lives and calling as Christ’s disciples.

First of all, I am struck once again with how dense the disciples are. You know, someone could write an outrageous comedy about them – we would laugh until our sides hurt. That might not be so inappropriate, since what we learn in this “discipleship seminar” in Mark does hurt – it stings, and it’s supposed to.

If we really see ourselves as these disciples, then we have to be struck with our own inability to hear what Jesus is trying to tell us, even when he makes it uncomfortably blunt. In the antics of the disciples – their bickering and bumbling, their elitism and cowardice – I see myself, and you may see yourself. I also see a great danger. These antics are also escape mechanisms, devices that keep us from having to deal with the very real costs of discipleship, and with the implications of faithful church membership.

We don’t normally make a big deal of what it takes to make a faithful church member, and maybe that’s a mistake. Maybe we ought to be more clear about what church membership involves. Joan Gray and Joyce Tucker write: “Membership in the church is no casual decision, no minor commitment. It is the testimony of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) that when one responds to the call of Christ to discipleship and claims membership in the church, one is beginning a journey which affects all of life.”

Sure, we’re an “inclusive” Church. Our Constitution says: “The congregation shall welcome all persons who respond in trust and obedience to God’s grace in Jesus Christ and desire to become part of the membership and ministry of his Church.” The questions we ask of people when they join are also deceptively simple: “Is Jesus Christ your Lord and Savior? Do you trust in him? Do you intend to be his disciple, obeying his word and showing his love? Will you be a faithful member of this congregation, giving of yourself in every way, and will you seek the fellowship of the Church wherever you may be?”

But that same Constitution, when describing what it means to be a faithful church member, goes into a little more detail. Listen and see if you can recognize your own discipleship:

“A faithful member accepts Christ’s call to be involved responsibly in the ministry of his Church. Such involvement includes:
--proclaiming the good news,
--taking part in the common life and worship of a particular church,
--praying and studying Scripture and the faith of the Christian Church,
--supporting the work of the Church through the giving of money, time, and talents,
--participating in the governing responsibilities of the Church,
--demonstrating a new quality of life within and through the Church,
--responding to God’s activity in the world through service to others,
--living responsibly in the personal, family, vocational, political, cultural, and social relationships of life,
--working in the world for peace, justice, freedom, and human fulfillment.”

When I read that, I have to ask myself how I measure up. It’s a pretty sobering thing to look at your discipleship like that. These bumbling, stumbling disciples can lead us to see ourselves as we really are, and that can be discouraging, to say the least.

But if that were all there is to it, then it would be “bad news” and not “good news,” not Gospel. So, we need to hold onto two thoughts as we continue to follow after Christ in this life’s road, this life’s drama and comedy:

First of all, Jesus may have rebuked his disciples, and even stripped them of their defenses from time to time, but he didn’t desert them. Rather, he sought to redirect their energies to his Way, calming their fears with serious challenge.
Second, notice that the disciples didn’t desert Jesus, either – at least, not finally. Their relationship with him was imperfect, as is ours, and sometimes strained, as ours sometimes is, but it remained unbroken.

And the good news is that as we can see ourselves in these imperfect disciples, we can also see what we may become in response to Jesus Christ, for they worshiped, and they followed, and they learned the joy of serving him. That is our calling, and that is our hope.