John 12:12-19, March 28, 2021, Palm Sunday Sermon

“When Jesus Comes to Town”

Pastor Randy Butler

It’s a big deal when somebody famous comes to town. When we lived in Seattle that happened often. All the media people come out, we roll out the red carpet. And we are generally honored that this person has come to our city. But sometimes it can be controversial. The Reverend Martin Luther King Jr. made his only visit to Seattle in November 1961. He had been invited to speak by Rev. Samuel McKinney of Mt. Zion Baptist Church. McKinney and King had been college classmates and friends. As arrangements were being made for the visit it become clear that Mt. Zion church would not be big enough for the expected crowd, so McKinney reached out to the First Presbyterian Church of Seattle.

First Presbyterian had been in the 1930’s and 40’s one of the biggest churches in the nation, so they had a large sanctuary, and they made a verbal agreement with McKinney to have Martin Luther King Jr. speak at First Presbyterian when he came to Seattle. But then some people at First Presbyterian got nervous about the political implications, and they cancelled the agreement just weeks prior to the event. This, with good reason, made McKinney and others very unhappy. First Presbyterian came under fire for the decision. The Seattle Presbytery had supported Dr. King and publicly criticized First Presbyterian, one of their own congregations, for their last minute refusal. Kind ended up speaking at the University of Washington, a downtown synagogue, and a local high school. Many years later First Presbyterian apologized for their actions. But the unfortunate event left long lasting scars and hard feelings between the churches, and in the community.

So sometimes when controversial people come to visit it creates, well, controversy. Now Jesus of Nazareth is a kind of first century local celebrity. He is causing quite a stir. The occupying Roman officials in Palestine have been told about him, the local Jewish officials and religious leaders know about him and they are very suspicious. The crowds love him. And he is also gathering around him a cadre of disciples, and very slowly they are coning to know him. And when in the final days of his ministry he arrives in Jerusalem the crowds and the disciples and the religious leaders all respond differently to this local healer and teacher riding into town in a public display. And we can learn from these various responses to him, because in them we recognize our own responses to Jesus as well.

First let’s consider the crowds. They are all in with Jesus. He has healed them, he talks to them, cares about them. So they are beside themselves as he arrives at the gates of the Holy City of Jerusalem. Finally their hero is going to throw the Romans out. They hold nothing back as they publicly praise Jesus, waving palm branches, shouting “Hosanna,” a Hebrew expression meaning, “Save us!”

“Save us, blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord. Blessed is the King of Israel.” It’s what we might see at a modern day rock concert or political rally, the crowd waving their cell phones, shouting and singing, adoring the one who is the center of attention. Now there is something sort of okay about this. The crowds aren’t afraid to show their loyalty. We certainly know where they stand. There is no doubt about who they love and support. And sometimes we are in the crowd too, shouting and singing along with everybody else. And that can be a positive thing.

But crowds can go wrong too. They are all emotion, and they often lack substance. Everybody is feeding off the energy of the others, crowds are not thoughtful; they don’t go for nuance. And so if even if they are not quite going the right direction, there is no stopping them. They go full steam ahead, all adrenaline, even if it is in the wrong direction.

Earlier in the gospel of John, the crowd having just been fed by Jesus on the hillside, were clamoring for him, and John says that they wanted to make Jesus king by force. And when Jesus realized what they wanted he withdrew to a mountain by himself. So Jesus is very wary of the crowd’s fervor to put him forward as a political candidate. This is not the way he wants to go and so as he enters the city gate he does so on a donkey. In response to the crowd’s cheering and adulation, Jesus simply finds a donkey and rides on into town. He might have found a large stallion or a chariot to emphasize his importance. But a donkey? A donkey is an everyday best of burden, a functional animal needed for the everyday tasks. And Jesus intentionally chooses a donkey. He understand symbols. Like all great leaders he understands optics and he understands the difference between riding in to the Holy City on a chariot, and riding in on a donkey.

This is the difference between a celebrity riding to the Academy Awards in a Black Cadillac Escalade SUV or a used Ford Fiesta. Jesus goes with the Fiesta. It says something about what he is up to; what his agenda is. The King of Israel on a donkey.

So crowds don’t always get it right. The majority does not always have it right. Those shouting and cheering for Jesus don’t always understand him best. The largest churches, the churches where everybody goes – they may not be as faithful to the ways of Jesus as the smallest church. It doesn’t mean that they are wrong. But it doesn’t mean they are right about Jesus either.

What about the religious leaders? The Pharisees aren’t pastors. They are highly respected lay people. But they are the religious leaders of their day, like pastors and active parishioners in our day. And all they can see is the threat that Jesus presents to their way of life, their popularity, position, status in the city, all that goes with that, including the economic benefits. “You see,” they say with exasperation, “you can do nothing. Look the world has gone after him.”

This is what we feel when a new church begins in town, and everybody starts going to that church, people leaving our church and going to the happenin’ church. It gets so bad that the Pharisees are going after each other: “You see, you can do nothing. Our new youth center – it’s not drawing the kids, they are still going to that other church.”

In one sense they understand the situation well – that Jesus is a threat to business as usual. Jesus means change. Things will not remain the same with him, when he rides into town. And that is a threat. The crowds (and in this sense the crowds have it right too) go over to Jesus because they have found hope in him, new life in him. They have seen Lazarus raised from the dead and that is why they are here for Jesus today. John says exactly that. And they want more than the boring rule-keeping religion the Pharisees promote.

But the religious leaders just want to clamp down on Jesus and his new ways. And so in the same way we are careful about the crowds, we really don’t want to respond to Jesus like the Pharisees did.

But what about the disciples? Do they have it right about him? Our text says that at first Jesus’ disciples did not understand all this. Only after Jesus was glorified, that is crucified and risen did they realize the things that had been written about him, and understand. Now the disciples get kind of a bad rap for their lack of understanding. We are always chiding them for not understanding. And we’ve got good reason for that because Jesus too exhorts them in their lack of faith. But would you and I be any different? If Jesus really did the things John says he did, and if Jesus really was who John says he was, and if he really was crucified and risen, if we were there would we understand? Wouldn’t it take us some time and perspective to put all this together?

I wonder if in our time it is better to be a little unsure than to have so much certainty about religion, politics, society. Maybe a little humility about what we don’t understand is a more productive approach than arrogant certainty about what we think we know. The crowds were sure about Jesus – they were going all in with him. That is until he was arrested. The religious leaders were quite sure that Jesus was a threat and should be destroyed. They were certain about their religious and spiritual and political opinions.

Maybe we should just say, “I don’t know,” more often. Maybe we should think more and speak less. I don’t like the crowds, I mistrust them. They are too extreme whatever direction they take. But I don’t want to be like the Pharisees either. I want to follow Jesus like his disciples, even though they were very dense

on occasion. Because I am kind of dense sometimes too. One of the ancient church leaders said, “Concepts and opinions create idols – only wonder really grasps anything.” God is a wonder not a certainty. In the week ahead as he continues to ride into our lives and hearts may we behold him with wonder and follow him with joy. Amen.

John 12:20-33, March 21, 2021, Sermon

“A Strange Kind of Glory”

Pastor Randy Butler

In ancient Rome, around the same time as these words from John’s gospel were written, it was a common practice for a victorious Roman military leader to hold a triumphal parade. Standing tall in his chariot drawn by four horses, with those he had captured in chains following behind him, his legions carrying banners, shouting and marching with him, the triumphal procession would march through the streets to the roars and acclaim of the masses of Rome. There was no greater celebration and no higher honor. The general would be idolized, chosen by the gods, worshipped and covered in glory before an adoring public.

Of course, the desire to be covered in glory is not limited to ancient Roman generals. In our day political rallies serve a similar purpose – to cheer and adore prominent politicians. Or consider the celebration surrounding the winner of the Super Bowl. Adoring millions watch as the Most Valuable Player of the winning team hoists the Vince Lombardi trophy in the air – he is basking in glory. The same thing with movie stars and other celebrities, who parade down the red carpet into the Academy Awards ceremony, covered in glory, worshipped by viewers around the world.

It’s not just the stars and the celebrities. Let’s be honest - we all seek our own little bit of glory in this life – it’s the desire to be recognized, honored, appreciated, to rise above even for a moment. All of us seek glory to some degree.

So we can expect that Jesus in the gospels will have some thoughts on all of this. In our text some visitors had come to the Passover festival in Jerusalem. They were Greek speaking Jews from another region making the pilgrimage to the great temple to join in the celebration of this important religious festival. These visitors want to meet Jesus and they make contact with Philip, one of Jesus’ disciples, who then goes to Andrew. The two of them go to Jesus with the request, and Jesus doesn’t seem too interested in seeing these out of town visitors. We’re not even sure he speaks with them. Answering Andrew and Philip but perhaps answering loudly enough for the Greek visitors to overhear, and for us to hear, Jesus says, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified.” He means of course that the time of his crucifixion is near. And it seems he doesn’t really have time to entertain the curiosities of these tourists. They don’t really want to know him, or be known by him, or be his followers. They just want to meet him so that when they go back home they can say that they saw this man who people were saying was the Messiah, like they just want a picture with Jesus. But he has something else on his mind, something else on his calendar: “The hour has come…”

And he continues, saying, “Here’s something really important: Unless a grain of wheat falls to the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies it bears much fruit.” Now you all know much more than I do about grain and agriculture. But let’s take corn for a minute. If you plant a seed of corn, a kernel of corn, in soil, and give it enough moisture and sunlight, the seed breaks open, roots begin to strike downward into the earth, and green shoots start springing up, and soon, from that one seed, which has now died, or dissolved, from that seed has sprung a new plant, bearing fruit.

I was listening to a preacher named Jim Somerville on this, and he said he was talking this over with a member of his congregation who was a botanist. They had a far ranging conversation about what happens with seeds and plants. And toward the end of their conversation the botanist did something very interesting. He stood up and said, “The roots go down like this (pointing to his feet), and the shoot goes up like this (lifting his head), and the leaves spread out like this, stretching his arms wide. It almost takes the shape of a man he said, like a man on a cross.” Jesus’ death on a cross is the beginning of new fruit and new life for the world.

And talking with them, Jesus goes further. Because he is now talking about us, not just himself. “Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.” All of the gospels have a similar saying of Jesus. Those who save their life will lose it and those who lose their lives will save it. But John’s wording is particularly powerful, even disturbing. “Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.”

Now Jesus doesn’t hate life – his life or ours. Elsewhere he says that he came to bring us abundant life. But He is of course using intentional exaggeration to make his point. He is using hyperbole. But it is no less true. If we are too much in love with our life as it is, we won’t be able to let go of those things and people and places we love. If we grasp them too tightly there won’t be any room for God. Those possessions, people and places may even take the place of God, or keep God at a distance anyway. And if we don’t to some degree reject, even hate what is wrong with and in the world, in this life then we won’t experience the life that is eternal. Note that Jesus says that we are to hate our lives in this world – our lives in this broken, self-seeking, often messed up world. Bible teacher Dale Bruner translates Jesus’ words in this way: “If you hate the way life is lived in this world, in its selfish ways and our own culpable involvement in that way of life, then you will by living counter culturally preserve your life into a deep lasting life, that is eternal life.” Put succinctly he says, “If you want to keep your soul forever, you have to hate it for a time.” If we don’t see what is wrong and reject it we won’t move on to what is better.

These are words for anyone who has felt like an outsider, like you really don’t belong in this world as it is. If you feel out of sync, out of step with the ways of your friends, society and the world in general this is for you. That very experience is a kind of rejection of the world, and in it is the seed of eternal life a new kind of life, a new kind of world.

Jesus is troubled as he speaks these words. The Son of God is troubled, saddened by these things. If he is troubled then it is certainly OK for us to be troubled when we feel so out of step with the world. And he turns to his heavenly Father, “So am I going to say Father save me from this hour? Well no – it is for this reason that I came to this hour. And then he says, “Father glorify your name.” And the Father responds, “I have glorified it, and I will glorify it again.

And this indeed is a strange kind of glory we are talking about this morning. It is a reverse kind of glory. Not at all what we expect when we think of glory – the Roman triumph, the Super Bowl, the Academy Awards, our own visions of glory. Jesus is talking about the glory of his crucifixion, his death. A kind of foolishness says the Apostle Paul – Christ crucified, a stumbling block to some and foolishness to others. He was crucified in a strange kind of glory but he lived by a strange kind of glory too.

As Jesus continued to prepare for his death, John in the next chapter says that Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and knowing that he had come from God and was going to God, took a towel and washed his disciples’ feet. All things were in his hands. He was from the Father and going to the Father. Everything was within his power – his moment of glory, and John says that he got up from the table, took off his outer garment, tied a towel around himself, poured water into a basin and began to wash their feet. Bible teacher James Edwards said that Jesus redefined the Messiah as one who takes not the warrior’s sword but the servant’s towel. That’s the glory.

What does it mean for us to live like Jesus did? What does it mean for us to take not the warrior’s sword but the servant’s towel? What does it mean for us to live by such a counter cultural set of values? What does it mean for us to reject the ways of the world and live by a new way of life, an eternal way of life?

In these final days of Lent, we are challenged and invited to become more than tourists on this journey with Jesus. We are more than visitors. We are followers, fully invested, joyfully committed, engaged disciples.

Ephesians 2:1-10, March 14, 2021, Sermon

"But God..."

Pastor Randy Butler

I went to the University of Colorado in Boulder Colorado for my freshman and sophomore years, but I was from California and had friends who went to some of the University of California schools. One of them went to the University of California at Davis, not far from Sacramento. One went to Berkeley. And I had a good friend who went to the University of California in Santa Barbara. UC Santa Barbara sits on a point right on the water, the Pacific Ocean. It is a gorgeous setting. The town of Boulder, Colorado was nice too, nestled right up against the front range of the Rockies. But after a long winter in Colorado, it’s nice to take a break and head to California and the beach. So that is what a few of my college friends and I did one Spring break. We left Boulder in the middle of a spring snow storm, got stranded in Raton, New Mexico for the night because the I-25 was closed. But we continued to make our way west, and we were getting anxious because it was taking us so long to get there. There were two carloads of us, and we came to a turn in the highway, looked quickly at the map and took what we thought was the correct interchange exit. We followed our friends in the first car, thinking they knew what they were doing. It was night, we were all tired, and because of the snow storm we were not taking the normal route. And we ended up going about forty miles in the wrong direction, until we realized our mistake and turned around. We finally made it to Santa Barbara, but we took a few wrong turns along the way.

It’s like that of course in life too. We follow those we think can be trusted, but we find ourselves lost and going the wrong direction. In this passage from Ephesians the Apostle Paul is describing just how wrong we can be. Interestingly he uses the word “following” three times. In our former life he says we have followed the course of this world, we have followed the ruler of the air (meaning the spirit of Satan), and he says that we have followed the desires of our flesh and senses, meaning we have followed our egotistical drives, looking out for ourselves only.

Paul also uses the word walk, though we don’t see it here. It is the word translated by the word live. The ways in which we lived is actually the ways in which we once walked. We are often found walking after, following after someone or something. In my life I have walked after and followed my parents. I have followed and worshipped sports stars, I followed the popular people in school, wherever they were going - didn’t look at the map, just followed. I have walked after pastors, politicians, rock stars, all kinds of people who seemed to me worth following at the time. I didn’t think that much about where they were going, I just followed after them.

I heard about a man who once came upon a farmer who had just rescued a lost sheep. When the man asked the farmer how the sheep got lost, he replied, “They just nibble themselves lost.” He said they go from one tuft of grass to another, until at last they’ve lost their way. It can be kind of like that with us too. We just nibble along, hardly looking up, following the other sheep with us, and before we know it we are lost. We are going the wrong direction.

Paul says this wrong direction can really be trouble. He says it results in spiritual death, a following after evil in some cases. Sometimes its following after some crazy get rich scheme, or life will be better if I just have or do this idea, the things that drive us and inflame us. Paul says that can make us children of wrath.

Now is it really that bad? Have we been, were we at one time, really that bad? Is the situation that dire? Well, it isn’t always evident, but when we open our eyes and reflect on the evil in our own world and society, things like the enormous problem caused by drugs and alcohol, the current suicide rate, especially among young people, the rampant spread of disease and sickness, injustice. When we recall that one billion people live in dire poverty and that war and terrorism continue to afflict the planet, well, it certainly begins to look like a spiritual death. So yes, it can get pretty bad.

However that is not the final verdict on our lives or the world. I love these two words right there in the middle. After Paul catalogues the way things can really get bad. He pauses and says, “But God.” “But God, who is rich in mercy, out of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead through our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ.” The bible always acknowledges just how bad things can get, but it always affirms that God is right there with us to love us and save us. The Scriptures always acknowledge our journey through the valley of the shadow of death but they also tell us God is with us in the valley. They acknowledge the troubles. Psalm 46 says that though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam the mountains tremble with its tumult, still God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. The trouble is there, but God is there too.

Paul says that we have been made alive with Christ, raised up with Christ, and seated with Christ in the heavenly realm, in Christ Jesus, he adds. We don’t just watch what Christ has done from the sideline – we are in the game. Someone said, “Christ’s death and resurrection are not merely events which produce benefits for us, but are events in which we participate.” We are made alive, raised up and seated with Christ. A change of address, a new location and home base for life.

Now just as we asked, “Can it be that bad,” as we considered Paul’s words about spiritual death, we also now ask, “Can it be that good? Are we really made alive, raised up and seated with Christ?’ Sounds pretty good if it is true.” How do we participate in Christ’s life, death resurrection and ascension? Well we do this in other aspects of life, so maybe the same things apply here. It was pretty exciting When the Seattle Seahawks won the Super bowl in 2014. And people went around saying, “We did it, we won!” Now I am sure that Russell Wilson and Doug Baldwin and Richard Sherman would have said, “Wait a minute – you weren’t on the field takin’ the hits that day.” But they were the NFC champions, my representatives to the Super Bowl. Their joy was my joy, their accomplishment my accomplishment. And when they celebrated I celebrated. It’s like that with Christ. Christ is our representative before God. His life and death is our life and death. His resurrection is our resurrection. And when he rides in the victory parade, it’s like I am right there seated with him. His ascension is our ascension. We participate fully in what Christ is and does. It doesn’t all just happen to him. It happens to us too. So yes, it can be that good for us.

All activated by God’s grace through faith. This text is one of the places we go to see God’s grace toward us and our response of faith. “For by grace you have been saved through faith; it is the gift of God, not as a result of works, that no one should boast.” Grace is simply the unmerited favor, love and mercy of God. The love words just pour from Paul’s pen: God who is rich in mercy, out of the great love with which he loved us…the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ. It’s like he can’t find enough modifiers, he just stacks them on top of one another. And we are reminded as Richard Rohr says, that God does not love us because we are good. No, God loves us because God is good.

It is ours to simply receive and trust. We have put way too much emphasis in the church on faith as believing in doctrines, too much emphasis on intellectual assent to certain truths. But faith is more about trust. Faith is relational, not just intellectual. I come to have faith in you because I know you, I’ve seen you in action, I trust you. I don’t need your resume, the things about you. I have come to trust you, and in that sense I believe in you. You are with me and I am sticking with you.

That trip to California with my college friends? We had a wonderful time in Santa Barbara on the beach for a couple of days. And the return trip was smooth and uneventful. We took a couple of wrong turns one dark and stormy night. It got bad. But we made it back to Boulder just in time for classes. It is like that with God. We can make mistakes, big ones. But God is gracious, with love outpouring, guiding us home into God’s presence – alive with Christ, raised up with Christ, and seated with Christ. It can be that good.

John 2:13-22, March 7, 2021, Sermon

“Cleaning House”

Pastor Randy Butler

Among the things we have learned during the pandemic in the last year is that Zoom and similar applications make a less than perfect substitute for meeting in person. It is convenient and it will continue for those of us in rural areas, or urban settings with high traffic. But like many of us I have really missed being in the church building, this space, with others on a regular basis. Sure we are worshipping in person but so many are absent, and we certainly understand that. But we miss them, and it feels incomplete. We really can’t have gatherings in the church. Our most sacred meal, the Presbyterian Potluck, seems like a thing of the past. This space is important to us, to our lives and to the community. It is where we feel connected and grounded. Some of us were married in this space, others were baptized or had their children baptized right here. We have experienced comfort in times of distress, found community when we felt alone, met God in this space. So there is no doubt about it, this place, this sacred space, this building, this church is important.

This morning we read about the Temple in Jerusalem during the time of Jesus. It was a very important sacred place. An extensive reconstruction was begun during the reign of King Herod, and the long project was still not complete during Jesus’ time. Our text tells us that the Temple had been under construction for forty-six years.

The Temple was the center of Jewish life and faith and politics. It was believed God’s presence was there, it was the house of the Lord. It was the center of the sacrificial ritual system. It generated a thriving economy especially in times of pilgrimage and festival like the Passover, and those who led the temple, the high priests and many others, derived great prestige in the city and all throughout the world. One writer says that the temple was recognized by Jews as the cosmic center of the universe, the place where heaven and earth converged and thus from where God’s control over the universe was effected. It was that important. Perhaps too important. It is possible that all this wealth and prestige and ritual was getting in the way of the simple and pure worship of God. Can the same happen to us, with this space we love so much?

This account of Jesus in the temple is found in all four gospels. The other three place it as a culminating event before his arrest. John places it at the beginning of his gospel, perhaps to suggest that the danger Jesus faced was there from the very beginning of his ministry. He tells us that Jesus went up to Jerusalem, since it was the Passover, the city was crowded with pilgrims and Jesus went into the Temple. And entering the temple precincts he seems to go into a slow burn. This is the Temple, and yet it looks like a shopping mall. Animals being bought and sold for sacrifice, money being changed for those who had come from far away. The temple was part of a great economic and political engine and system, and many couldn’t afford the cost of paying for the sacrificial animals, birds, cattle and sheep. So they couldn’t even get into the Temple for Passover. The Temple for many represented the general economic inequality of the region. The system was dominated by the wealthy and was not just. It kept out the poor. The temple system itself was getting in the way of worship and contact with God. Access was controlled by the high priests. And Jesus had seen enough. He threw their money on the ground, turned over their tables and chased the animals off with a homemade whip.

What happens when the church itself gets in the way of access to God? Though we love this place, many who aren’t familiar with it, find it a strange space, where we perform mysterious rituals, sing songs they’ve never heard before, use words we don’t use in any other setting, ask for money, and talk about church stuff. The fact is the general culture outside our doors doesn’t really understand us. It’s like we are from different countries. They tolerate us, but there is so much for them to overcome to enter into life with us. And we don’t do much to help them overcome the obstacles.

Jesus suggests to the religious leaders that he is the true temple, the true sanctuary of God. He claims to be true cosmic convergence of heaven and earth. Not the building but himself, the presence of God in the flesh. It would be worth asking, what might we overturn, what might we throw out, what might we chase off in order to clear the way for everyone and anyone to feel welcomed here, so that they have access to God, and to his presence in Jesus Christ. What religious clutter might we remove in our church life? Jesus is chasing off cattle. What sacred cows might we remove?

What religious clutter might we remove in our personal lives, our individual minds and hearts, souls? Jesuit Priest Karl Rahner asks about this in one of his prayers. I love this and it is particularly applicable in the age of the internet: “Doesn’t my soul look just like a market place where the second-hand dealers from all corners of the globe have assembled to sell the shabby riches of this world? Isn’t it just like a noisy bazaar,” or perhaps a “huge warehouse where day after day the trucks unload their crates without any plan or discrimination, to be piled helter-skelter in every available corner and cranny, until it is crammed full from top to bottom with the trite, the commonplace, the insignificant, the routine.” Do you ever feel like your life, your soul, is like that?

At home in Spokane last summer I was looking for a file that was in a cabinet in the garage. I had been searching for other things in the cabinet in the months before, and I always had to navigate around a storage container right in front of the cabinet. There wasn’t a quick and convenient place to move it to, so there it sat, right smack in the way, until finally in my last trip home, I got so frustrated I just picked the container up and threw it. I guess you could say I needed to clear access to the file cabinet. And maybe we all need to do an inventory of our interior warehouse, clear the way for access to God, God’s access to us. Lent is a good time for that.

Let’s make a couple of points here. First, this text is often referred to as the cleansing of the temple. And that is appropriate. This is indeed a cleansing, a purification of the Temple. But this is more than an overdue spring cleaning. Jesus is angry here, righteously indignant. He has a passion, a zeal for his Father’s house, and for all to have access to worship here. He’s angry with the marketplace mentality of the Temple. The story just before this shows Jesus at a wedding, reluctantly changing water into wine, but doing so at his mother’s request so that the party goes on and the hosts aren’t embarrassed. He seems quite accommodating, helpful and generous. But this story that follows it – this is a different side of Jesus. And any illusion that we have of managing Jesus – forget it. Maybe that is another reason John places it here. Sure he goes to weddings and all that. But watch out when he goes to the Temple. The so called cleansing of the Temple forever does away with what Pastor Donald McCullough called the dangerous illusion of a manageable deity. We will not domesticate the deity. Jesus will not be tamed.

Second, this account raises the question for us about the place of anger in our lives in church, home and society, and it’s appropriate use. Now I want to be very careful here, because we live in a very angry time. Still, our text, it’s in all four gospels, shows us Jesus more passionate than he is anywhere else in the New Testament. It wants to display Jesus’ holy anger. He is not unhinged here. He is not simply flying off the handle. In fact many make the case that Jesus is very intentional about this act. He knows full well the symbolic impact of such an act in the institutional center of Jewish life. And like Old Testament prophets before him he is thoughtfully and symbolically acting out God’s judgment on the Temple.

Sometimes you get the feeling in the Christian world that niceness is the supreme virtue. We have the impression that if God came up with the Ten Commandments today the first would say: Be nice to everybody, and the second would be: Don’t offend anyone. What Jesus does in the Temple is quite offensive, and he isn’t being very nice about it.

So I am asking very carefully, what in your church, your city, your nation, your world, your life, makes you angry enough to overturn tables, throw money and crack the whip? We need to be attentive to our anger, not let it control us, but be aware of it within us, channel its energies, and respond accordingly and prayerfully and carefully. Appropriate anger can motivate us, spur us into taking action we might not otherwise get around to. Is there a place for such action in our lives?

There is a lot of injustice in the world, and it ought to stir us deeply. Trusting in a Holy God, let us be open to the full range of emotions and actions, as followers of God’s Son Jesus Christ. Amen.

Mark 8:31-38, February 28, 2021, Sermon

“Followers of the Messiah”

Pastor Randy Butler

I once read about Sir Ernest Shackleton, one of the famous English explorers of the South Pole. You had to be quite driven to do the things he and his companions did, and once when recruiting for one of his voyages he put up a sign in England that said, “Men wanted: for hazardous journey, small wages, long months of complete darkness, constant danger, safe return doubtful, honor and recognition in case of success. Sir Ernest Shackleton.” He had to turn some away there were so many responses. He set the bar very high, and they responded to the challenge.

Interesting recruitment approach. It might or might not work today. I am not sure our current Pastor Nominating Committee would want to adopt such an advertisement in their search. Still, Jesus isn’t afraid to try a similar approach. He has been asking his disciples who they and others think he is. Peter answers for them and says, “You are the Christ, the Messiah”. Jesus says he doesn’t want them to tell anyone just yet, perhaps because he wants them to understand just what this means first. And he goes on to explain and fill in what it means for him to be the Messiah. He says the Son of Man, referring to himself, must suffer many things and be rejected by the authorities, be killed, and then raised again three days later. Not exactly what Peter had in mind when he said, “You are the Christ.” He undoubtedly shares the more popular belief that the coming Messiah would be a kind of conquering king or hero, sent to liberate the Jews from the yoke of Roman occupation and oppression.

So with this in mind Peter sets out to correct Jesus. He takes Jesus aside for a one on one to suggest that this talk about suffering and death really isn’t what the Messiah is to be and do. But Jesus, I think acutely aware of the temptation of the easy path, looks at him and says, “Get behind me Satan,” “Out of my sight, Tempter.” “You’re just thinking about this from the human perspective, but you’ve got to see it from the divine perspective. Suffering and death and resurrection is exactly what it means to be the Messiah.” When asked who he thinks Jesus is, Peter has the right title for Jesus, but the wrong understanding of who Jesus is. Former Whitworth University professor James Edwards says that Jesus redefines Messiah as one who takes not the warrior’s sword, but the servant’s towel.

That’s the Messiah, what about his followers, his disciples? What about you and me today? And here’s what Jesus says. This is for all of us. Mark says that he called the crowd to him along with his disciples and said: “If you want to come after me, deny yourself, take up your cross and follow me.” That’s his recruitment approach, his honest challenge. And that is what we are signing up for if we want to go on expedition with him, if we want to go to the Pole with him. He doesn’t sugar coat it. He tells us it won’t be easy. For himself or his followers. Here’s what is very important. Jim Edwards of Whitworth points this out. Our understanding of Jesus determines who we are as disciples of Jesus. If we think that Jesus is a conquering king and hero, then we his followers will adopt a similar approach. If on the other hand we think he is the crucified suffering servant, why then that will be a very different life for us. When we confess who Jesus is we also and inevitably confess who we are too.

Jesus continues: “For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for me and for the gospel will save it.” That’s one of those bible paradoxes. It seems like by our experience that if you want to save your life you might save it. And if you want to lose your life well that could happen too. But Jesus says just the opposite. If you spend all your time trying to save yourself, you will lose your life. If on the other hand you simply let go and lose yourself, well you will save your life. That is a paradox. It is counterintuitive. And we are not sure we trust it.

Presbyterian pastor Earl Palmer has a way of saying it. He says it’s like skiing. If you are going to learn to ski, you’ve got to put your weight on the downhill ski, even though every bone in your body cries out in favor of keeping your weight on the uphill ski. In order to ski, you have to risk the very thing that you think will ruin you. You have to shift your weight and turn downhill.

The Christ following life is a kind of counterintuitive life. If we are living with financial worry and fear, we find freedom in giving and generosity. Or try this sometime: if you find yourself struggling with impatience, wait in the longest line at Safeway or Albertson’s. Take the paradoxical step, the counterintuitive step. Just when you are about to take credit for something you did, give credit to another. When you have the urge to speak, stay quiet. The opposite is also true – when you have the urge to stay quiet, speak. If you are filled with worry about a loved one, and want to control and help and save, let go and detach. Church leadership consultant Gil Rendle tells of a young man training to be a brain surgeon. He was about to perform his first solo brain surgery, and his mentor was right beside him. Just before the surgery his mentor told him, “Don’t forget, from the time you remove that part of the skull and begin your procedure you only have three minutes before the patient will experience distress. So work slowly.” So we live the paradox way of life, the Jesus way of life. Just as he lost he his life and lived, so we are invited to lose our lives in service and live.

Besides, adds Jesus, what good is it if we gain the whole world but forfeit our lives? That is a question worth pondering, worth meditating upon especially during Lent. What is most important? And how might we redirect our lives if needed? Is some course correction necessary? Some of us have been climbing the ladder of success all our lives only to find the ladder has been leaning against the wrong wall.

So the challenge of Jesus is clear. Mark tells us he is speaking plainly, not mincing words. And some may give the full measure. Jim Elliott, who died a martyr’s death in South America once said, “He is no fool who gives up what he cannot keep, in order to gain what he cannot lose.” He knew what Jesus was talking about. But not all of us are so called. And Jesus doesn’t intend us to live the hard life, just for the sake of it. If it is a hard life at all it is for the sake of a better life, and not just in the future, but now. He is not sending us into oblivion; he is inviting us to eternity. In the gospel of Matthew Jesus puts it this way: “Strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness and all these other things shall be added to you as well.” We are invited to give up our lives in order to gain our lives. But we do have to let go.

I read about a pastor serving in the islands of New Guinea. In a sermon he told a parable about a man living in this tropical paradise. Having been born on the island where his parents, grandparents and great grandparents had always lived, he held in his heart a special place for the beauty of the palm trees, the white sand, the sloping mountains and the gentle climate. This man, approaching death told his loved ones to place some island sand into each of his hands when he died, so that he might hold on to the memory of his beloved island forever. They did, and so the man proceeded to the gates of heaven still clutching the sand. At the gate he was warmly greeted and told that as soon as he emptied his hands of the sand, he could enter into eternal joy. The man was crushed, for he could not let go of what he loved so much, and so he waited. He waited, the parable goes, for a long, long time; so long that at last his hands grew weary and could no longer hold the sand. It eventually slipped through his fingers, lost forever. At that moment Jesus came to him, held the man as he sobbed at the loss of the sand and his precious memories, and said, “Come now, and enter your rest.” Then Jesus walked with the man through the gates of heaven, where before them both stretched out the entirety of the man’s beloved island.

There is challenge in Jesus’ words, no doubt, but there is also an invitation to live more fully, deeply and completely than we’ve ever lived before, if we will just loosen our grip a little, and surrender to what God wants so much for us as followers of the Messiah.