Category Archives: Mark

Be the truth.

Year B Proper 10
Mark 6:14-29

Sunday Sermon – July 15, 2018 from Christ Church Christiana Hundred on Vimeo.

In today’s gospel, we hear about John the Baptist and how his head ended up on a platter. When we first meet John the Baptist in the gospels, he’s described as wearing clothes of camel’s hair and eating locusts and wild honey, which isn’t the most relatable first impression. We soon learn him to be a a prophet, and the Bible is full of prophets who are given a hard time for all their truth-telling! He is best known as the baptizer of Jesus, although he had been performing this Jewish ritual of cleansing for quite awhile leading up to that moment. When we meet him today, we hear the story of his death, resulting from his regular daily prophetic duty of speaking the truth, even when not in the position of power. And while his death may seem like the end of everything, the Gospel is not a story about the end.

Although, our lives do seem full of endings, don’t they? We’ve all had experiences that brought us to our knees and made us feel like our heads – or perhaps even more often our hearts – were about to be served on a platter. I managed to make it partway through college before I had my heart truly broken for the first time. After hearing our relationship was over, I remember being so hurt and sad and angry. Hadn’t I been loyal and honorable? What did I do to deserve such heartache? Looking back on the resulting prolific journaling, I have to confess: I remember comparing myself to the dog Old Yeller, blindly led to his execution by his loyal companion.

The words we speak have power. In Creation, God speaks as God calls the world into being – and calls it good. Prophetic voices, like John the Baptist’s, gain their power from their fearless – yet loving – speaking of truth, at all times and to all people – and disregarding any earthly power structure that we believe divides us. This is how Jesus spoke to us, modeling for us how we are called to speak to each other. Today’s gospel passage and story about John the Baptist tells us everything we need to know about truth. Truth requires courage to speak, and it cannot be unheard. Truth forces us to face difficult things that we may not always want to hear. Truth transforms our world whether we choose to listen or not.

John the Baptist may have made a strange first impression on us, but you gotta admire the fearlessness with which he speaks the truth to King Herod, telling Herod that marrying his brother’s wife, Herodias, was wrong. It’s easy to speak truth from a position of authority, when people have to listen to us. Among equals, it’s more challenging, (although looking back on how difficult it was for me to be broken-up with definitely made me more compassionate in all the times since that I’ve been the bearer of such a pain-inflicting truth)…. However, to cry out for justice from a position of vulnerability takes great courage. Truth-telling is essential for justice. In our Baptism, we promise to seek justice for all people. In our judicial system, courts of law seek the truth in order to enact justice; distorting one distorts the other.

One of the easiest ways we distort truths is when we’re not ready to hear them; this is true both for truths others speak to us as well as those we are reckoning with with ourselves in our own stories. Herodias, Herod’s new bride, was livid when John the Baptist declared her marriage was unlawful. She would not hear that he was right. She was not prepared to accept that John’s words were true, so she chose to hold onto her anger and wait for an opportunity for revenge, rather than open herself up to accepting the world to be a more challenging and complicated place than she was prepared to accept. When I remember the raw, shocking, pain of my first broken heart, I was angry, too. I was in denial, too. John’s violent death is not a consequence of Herodias getting angry; John’s violent death is because Herodias chose to stay angry. John’s violent death came from Herodias’ refusal to reconcile herself to a difficult truth about her life. But Herodias couldn’t do it all on her own, she needed both her daughter’s and husband’s complicity; Herod clearly has agency, too.

While we’re quick to read Herod’s execution of John the Baptist as simply fulfilling a promise, but Herod’s relationship with John the Baptist is far more complicated. While Herod probably didn’t appreciate being called out about his unlawful marriage, today’s gospel also says that Herod knew John was righteous and holy. Furthermore, Herod enjoyed listening to John but found him confusing. Another sign of truth can be feeling the transformative power of something, even when we don’t’ yet comprehend what that power means. Because of this, Herod feared John and protected him. Herod feared the truth he did not understand. When I moved past the anger of my broken heart, I still had to navigate the fear of moving forward living by a different set of rules than the ones I’d become accustomed too. When Herod told his daughter that she could ask anything of him, he chose to behead John the Baptist, rather than risk his position of earthly power by breaking his oath to her in front of all his honored guests. It’s a lot like that time – much later in Mark’s gospel – when Pontius Pilate leaves the decision to the people and believes moving forward is as simple as washing his hands. When we’re outnumbered, it’s tempting to look for security in any earthly power we have, just as Herod and Pilate do, forsaking what we know is true for what we believe is security. Herodias’ role in the violence of this passage came from anger; Herod’s role in John’s violent death came from fear. How we respond to truth doesn’t change how true it is but it does affect our relationship with God.

After John’s gruesome death, his body is brought to the tomb by his disciples; an act that mirrors what Jesus’ disciples will later do for Jesus. Both men cautioned us to resist temptation with their honesty about its perils. Both died violently when humanity failed to resist temptation and chose an easier path. John practiced the cleansing ritual of baptizing. The most important truth of all is: Jesus, in his death, cleansed us from all our sin and promises us eternal life in the resurrection the ultimate transformative act in which God takes death and gives us eternal life.

Shortly after that first heartbreak, shortly after that season of anger and fear but still in the stage of comparing myself to Old Yeller, a priest friend of mine posted a picture of himself blessing a beautiful, Yeller-like Golden Retriever. The caption read “This is Yeller. He’s a cancer survivor of 16 years with a lot of wisdom in his eyes.” Apparently, I was a different kind of Yeller than I thought. In that moment, I learned that when we have the courage to hear and accept the life-changing truths that we all must to face, we are also accepting how we are transformed by them and with them and in them. In our transformation, we actively participate in the resurrection and affirm our faith in God’s ability to breath new life into any death, any heartbreak, any supposed ending that comes our way.

One of my favorite quotes is Gandhi’s “Be the change you wish to see in the world.” Today’s gospel passage teaches us that, in order to do that, we have to be the kind of truth we wish to see in the world.

 

Today, I am a Mustard Seed.

Year B Proper 6
Mark 4:26-34
Preached on June 17, 2018 at Christ Church Christiana Hundred

 

Sunday Sermon – June 17, 2018 from Christ Church Christiana Hundred on Vimeo.

I’ve been at Christ Church for just over fifteen months now, but as many of you know, this isn’t my first time living in Delaware. I went to college just down the road at UD, so my first move to Delaware was when I was nineteen.What you probably don’t know is that it was a move I didn’t want to make. I enjoyed high school; I had it down. I was never super popular but I was involved in a variety of student groups and had a great circle of friends, many of whom I still consider my soul sisters. Also, I’ve always been close to my family and many of them lived nearby. I had a good thing going. Going off to college would mean a new chapter, a new beginning. Sometimes, now, when I’m driving south on turnpike I can still remember the day I moved into the dorm, riding in the backseat of my Dad’s silver suburban, with my one-third of a dorm room in back. I wanted that car ride to last forever.

(I imagine right now some of you are thinking “Why did this girl come back to Delaware?”)

How I felt about UD transformed in my time there because I transformed too. In college, I made new friends, lived into my passions, found a voice I didn’t know I had and discerned my vocation. I was like the sower in the first parable in today’s gospel lesson, sleeping and waking and going about my daily business…. But all around me seeds were sprouting and growing in ways I didn’t know or expect.

We get a lot of seed imagery today as Jesus tells us about the kingdom of God, because seeds are beginnings – awaiting growth and transformation. Today, Jesus teaches us that the kingdom of God gives us life when we’re surrounded by darkness, breaks us open to new possibility, and invites us into a new way of being full of endless opportunities for growth.

The mustard seed is so small when it starts out but like all other seeds, it has to be buried to grow. When a seed is planted to awaken its new beginning, it is surrounded by darkness under the earth. Riding in that backseat of my Dad’s suburban that day, all I could see awaiting me in this new beginning I’d chosen was the darkness of the unknown. Every time we move, start a new job or school, embark on a new relationship, we’re sowing ourselves into unknown territory. We’re planting ourselves like seeds and praying for new life. Sometimes, that darkness is not expected. Sometimes, it’s overwhelming. Often, it’s completely unpredictable and we have no idea how long it will last. But next time you have one of those days where you just want to stay in bed, pull the blankets over your head, and hide: remember how Jesus likens the Kingdom of God to a seed and the precursor to all of that transformation is total darkness. God is nurturing us in that darkness, even when we can’t see God there.

In order to get out of that dark place, a seed has to not only break open to the unknown but it has to sprout. It has to reach out overcoming any fear and temptation to stay in its safe and secure shell and pull its little mustard seed down comforter over its head. At the end of my first day of classes, I joined my first student group. I looked up where it met, walked across campus by myself, and entered a room filled with strangers, who would become some of my first and closest friends. It was one more strange new thing in a season of strange new things, but it was the beginning of what would become a weekly ritual that would shape my college career and help me discover my voice. Whether the darkness around us is heavy or light, isn’t it always those little moments of reaching out that lead us to something great – like the first time you shook your spouse’s hand or the first time you did the thing that became your greatest passion? All of those moments began with a seed, something impossibly small but that God was surrounding the whole time. All of these moments began with one brave decision to reach out into the unknown and have faith that God is there. The Holy Spirit is always waiting to surprise us.

Any seed brave enough to break open and sprout is always always going to find its way out of the darkness and reach the warmth of God’s life-giving light, where it will continue to transform, blooming into blossoms like the ones on our altar or growing tall like the magnolia tree on Buck Road or becoming the greatest of all shrubs like the mustard seed. In Christ, the possibilities for growth are endless. That place I went to on that very first night of classes – where I found some of my dearest friends and began my journey to finding my voice? It’s the same place where I met the people who connected me to Christ Church. By likening the Kingdom of God to a seed that springs life, Christ is reminding that the Kingdom of God is alive – alive and the source of all life and transformations, just like how Christ tells us that mustard seed that grows so big that it comforts the birds. We’re called to invite each other into God’s transformation.

Just like how every seed grows up differently, the Kingdom of God always has room for new possibility – and new transformation that continues throughout our lives. Over and over again, just as we pray that “Thy Kingdom come” over and over again in the Lord’s Prayer.

After I graduated from UD, I loaded the last of my dorm room into my beautiful Ford Taurus and as I drove across the Delaware Memorial Bridge towards the entrance to the New Jersey turnpike, I cried that that beautiful chapter of my life had come to an end, even though I knew I was just a summer away from my move to South Africa….and you know, when that time came, I remember wishing that plane ride would last forever.

We’ve always been told that we should have faith like a mustard seed – faith that grows bigger and bigger. But more than that, this gospel is calling us to be the mustard seed:
To have faith in God’s transformation spirit all around us when we are buried by dark unknown soil!
To break open and welcome God’s life-giving call, every time God presents Godself!
To grow in the life-giving light of God, fearless and ever-changing as we become what we cannot predict!
God’s transforming power is already in progress. Are you ready to be planted? b

Undeniable Fear: A Good Friday Meditation on Mark 14:66-72

A Good Friday Meditation on Mark 14:66-72

I love the stories of Simon Peter in the gospel. In Christ’s call to Peter to tend my sheep, I hear my own call. We hear so many stories about Peter in the gospels – about his well-intentioned excitement, his yearning to be close to Jesus. To do things like be the first to walk on the water – and then overthink things and get scared. But today, we hear that this same person, who was so desperate to be close to Christ and embrace every step – this same person denies Jesus three times.

The fear around Jesus’ arrest, all that fear about what was going to happen next, can so easily through our whole selves. In these times of fear, it’s easy to let that fear overwhelm us and permeate everything, every little bit of us.

Before that night, Peter never would’ve imagined he’s chose fear and deny Jesus not just once but three times. If someone with as much love and devotion and knowledge of Christ as Peter had can fall prey to that fear, then we’re all capable of that too.

God, on the Good Fridays of our lives, it’s hard to see beyond the immensity of our fear and sadness, help us remember that your love is always – and undeniably – bigger.