I
had the honor of sharing lunch this week with one of our youth who graduated
high school this past June and who is enlisting in the United States Marine
Corps. In fact, he’ll be getting on the bus for boot camp today, right after
worship! I think he knows the congregation is rightfully proud of him, and I
wanted to snag a chance to let him know that before he went, and to assure him
of our support. As we talked about his goals and his future, he shared with me
his excitement about what lies ahead. He seems to be very realistic about his
future, and at one point he made a comment that stuck with me. He said that
what has drawn him to this particular decision for the time-being is the
opportunity to have “discipline redefined.”
For
whatever reason, this appeals to him—a chance to reprogram some concepts of
self-control, perhaps, or a reorientation of values where honor and service to
country are instilled afresh. In any case, I suspect within the next 24 hours discipline
will begin to be redefined in all kinds of ways for him.
For
all of us—that young man, included—Jesus redefined discipline during the gospel
reading just a few minutes ago. Discipleship will go, for example, from being
about tasks that gain one fame and popularity to a way of life that involves
suffering and humiliation. Life as one of his disciples will go from asserting yourself,
gaining more and more attention and higher and higher status, from working your
way farther up the ladder, to being about humbling yourself and getting rid of your
self-importance. Enlisting with Jesus will go from looking for ways to dominate
to looking for ways to serve:
“He called the crowd with his disciples, and
said to them,‘If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.’”
It’s
difficult to tell sometimes because of the chopped-up way we read the Bible in
worship, but we have reached a critical point in Mark’s story about Jesus. Up
until this point, Jesus has been gaining more and more followers primarily
through the amazing miracles of healing and feeding he has performed. Especially
at the very beginning of his ministry, Jesus shows his power over the forces of
darkness and evil by rebuking demons and physical illnesses. He shows his power
over the often chaotic forces of nature by walking on water and feeding
thousands of people at one time. He’s a rock star. People demand more. He can’t
go anywhere without folks showing up and asking him questions.
But
now, suddenly, we find ourselves in that part of the movie where the music has
started to change in the background. Suddenly the disciples get the sneaking
suspicion that they might have signed up for something a little different than
they thought. Before, you see, Jesus was all about rebuking the dark forces and
storms. Now he’s rebuking Peter. It’s all a part of Jesus’ plan to redefine
exactly what following him entails.
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| Get Thee Behind Me, Satan! (James Tissot) |
And
in order to do that, of course, he needs to redefine himself and how he will be
a Savior. This is why he’s brought them to Caesarea Philippi, a gleaming new
city built to glorify Caesar’s empire. It’s almost like he’s taken them away
for discipleship boot camp, bringing them out of their comfort zone in the
heart of Galilee to this distant outpost of the region. As it happens, there’s
a lot of symbolism there that he can use to set himself against.
Caesarea
Philippi, you see, was set upon the ruins of another ancient city near a huge
rock face that was a temple to Pan, the ancient god of victory in war. The
local ruler, Philip II, who was a puppet for the emperor in Rome, had recently
made vast improvements to the city, erecting all kinds of statues bearing his
likeness and constructing new buildings with his name emblazoned on them. Philip’s
image had been placed on a coin that had been minted right about the time Jesus
would have been there. The point, therefore, at Caesarea Philippi was that
Caesar was lord, the empire was unshakable, and that greatness came if not by
military victory, then certainly by asserting yourself and stamping your
pompous style and fingerprint on everything around you.
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| part of the modern-day site of Caesarea Philippi |
With
that as a backdrop, Jesus asks his disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” And when Peter finally answers
that Jesus is the Messiah, the Savior of the people, Jesus quickly sets the
record straight about what that will mean: Undergoing great suffering, being
rejected by the popular people in power, getting killed, and then, at long
last, having his life put back together again. He says all of this quite
openly, which is a line in this story that might seem kind of pointless to us but
it’s actually a big deal. He’s clearly redefining Messiah-ship, because up
until this point whenever Jesus does something big he tries to either do it in
secret or he tells people to hush up about it.
And
here, so openly, in a city with so many bold and imposing monuments to Caesar
and Philipp, Jesus begins to point to the monument his life will end with. “Monument”
is probably not even the right word for it, because it is an instrument for
execution, and it’s not like he designs it for himself. But in his effort to re-define
life for us, he must confront death. In his mission to re-define what it means
to be the one who provides God’s victory, he must hand himself over in
humility.
So
every time we look at this monument of his we will remember that sacrifice of
self stands in the middle of our salvation. Every time it is lifted in our
midst, we will realize, once again, we must die to ourselves to gain any kind
of real life. The core of our Savior’s identity is not in some flashy way he
preserves those who love him, but in the way he chooses to suffer, die, and
rise even for those who turn his back on him. It is such a powerful re-defining
of everything that giving up our life results in finally gaining it—setting
aside our pet agendas, our sacred cows, our enlightened opinions is often where
we find God’s grace will pick us up and make us new.
In
her recent article called, “Why I Go to Church Even When I Don’t Feel Like It,”
blogger Trudy Smith shares a brief sketch of her own life story of falling in
and out and eventually back in belief in God and her back and forth
relationship with the community of Christ’s disciples. At some point in her
journey she discovered that church “was not a place to go because everyone had
their act together. It was more like a refuge where all sorts of people could
gather to remind each other of the story we were all in…It was more like a
school for conversation where we were all stumbling through basic lessons on
how to love.”[1]
Indeed,
Jesus has assembled a school for conversation: “Who do you say that I am?” God
gathers a refuge for remembering this core story of the cross that stands at
the middle of our faith. And through this school, this refuge, this re-defined
Savior re-defines us. At the font, at the table, in our repentance and
forgiveness, and God is constantly re-defining us with his grace. God receives our
brokenness, our shortcomings, our idolatries of self so that he can hand us
himself. And bearing his cross does not always occur in grand, epic occasions
for faith-sharing, but more often in the small, quiet daily opportunities to
suffer for the cause of righteousness, to lift a gesture of self-denial for the
sake of someone else.
There’s
a lot of disappointment in and with the community of Christ’s followers these
days. But—news flash!—there always has been. Look at Peter on his first step! Jesus is
always going to have to work to shove our delusions of perfection into the
background. Even on this Rally Day, we know many of our grand new objectives
for the year, personally or corporately, won’t exactly pan out like we hope. Nevertheless,
my friends, a re-defined Savior will still be here re-defining us with his
love. A re-defined, suffering Savior will still be here, reminding us it’s not
about us, it’s not ever about us. It’s always about him…the one who goes to the
cross.
So,
from these Sunday School classrooms…from these discussions in youth group about
being disciples in middle and high school…from these relationships forged over
handbells, canned food donations and confirmation conversations Jesus will be
forming a new type of followers. And to that point, I’d like to add another
re-definition of the church to Ms. Smith’s school and refuge. The church is
also a boot camp. A boot camp for losers. A bunch of losers who eventually, because
of Jesus, gain it all!
Thanks
be to God!
The Reverend Phillip W.
Martin, Jr.
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