15B Pentecost                                      Mark 8:27-38                                     13 Sept. 2009

Prior to today’s Gospel reading, Jesus had been spending time in the northern part of Israel know as Galilee.

Of all the places where Jesus spent time, Galilee, had been the most receptive. 
It was there that crowds sought him out – they came to him for healing – and they hoped to see him work one of the miracles for which he was becoming famous. 

As a result, Galilee became familiar territory – his home turf, if you will.
Why Galilee?
Why not his hometown of Nazareth in the south;
or Jerusalem, the center of politics and religious life?
So, why Galilee? 
Well, it has been suggested that the people in Galilee weren’t so pretentious as say the folks in Jerusalem and quite frankly, sometimes it is simply too difficult to gain respect in one’s hometown because too many people remember when you were just a snot nosed kid.

Interestingly given the option of Jerusalem or Nazareth, Jesus spent the majority of his time in Galilee with people who were considered to be country bumpkins in the eyes of the Jerusalem folks, folks who were ordinary people – salt of the earth -- people who just want to live in peace and raise a family, folks who most of us can appreciate and identify with.

In today’s reading we learn that Jesus has moved beyond Galilee to a region further north known as Caesarea Philippi.
Unlike Galilee, Jerusalem, and Nazareth, Caesarea Philippi was inhabited by gentiles, a place where people worship the pagan god, Pan -- a place where there’s a temple to Caesar Augustus. 

This is not the kind of place where you might find too many faithful Jews, and yet, as we know, Jesus was never shy about breaking down barriers and expanding the circle of God’s amazing grace and love.

So, maybe it should not surprise us that it is in this far-north pagan place that Jesus asks his disciples, "Who do people say that I am?" 
And Mark tells us that the disciples answers vary, some say John the Baptist – others have suggested Elijah – or one of the prophets. 

But then Jesus brings the question closer to home—to those who have been with him for the past year and half: "But who do YOU say that I am?" 
We are told that the disciples are a bit slower in answering this question—it might have been one of those moments when the silence was deafening—and yet the disciples knew that they had an ace in the hole. 
They could always count on Peter to say something.
Peter didn't always have the RIGHT answer, but Peter always had AN answer. 

In this case, Peter did have the right answer. 
He told Jesus, "You are the Messiah." 
The word in Greek is “Christos.” 
It means "the anointed one."
Peter said, "You are the Christ -- the Messiah -- the anointed one!

I can almost imagine Jesus smiling to himself because he knew that while Peter had the correct answer, he had no idea what the answer meant, he had no idea what the implications of such an answer might mean.

And because of that, Jesus began to teach the disciples what that would mean. 
It would mean that he would "undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again."
It quickly became apparent that when Peter said that Jesus was the Messiah, that wasn't what he meant. 
Peter meant that Jesus was going to be a great leader -- a man like David, who would form an army to drive out the Romans -- a man who would use force of arms to restore Israel to its former greatness. 

So Peter rebuked Jesus, the same man he just moments ago referred to as the Messiah, he rebukes.
Thus prompting Jesus to rebuked Peter. 

And from there we hear Jesus utter those often times confusing and hard words:  "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me."

That wasn't what Peter wanted to hear. 
It's not what the disciples wanted to hear. 
It's not what we want to hear either.  
And yet, the cross is central to our theology.
It is at the foot of the cross that we all meet, with all our brokenness and our need for healing grace.
Martin Luther once wrote: “The cross alone is our theology.”
And while we might nod our heads in agreement, we also have to admit and confess that-- we often cringe when it comes to cross bearing.
Like Peter, we want to hear how great things are going to be -- not how we're going to suffer. 

A friend of mine shared a story of an occasion when he preached a sermon on the cross, and one of the men pulled him aside afterwards and said:
"I'll tell you what people want to hear, preacher. 
They want to hear how God is going to help them."

It was a mild rebuke -- a word to the wise – a bit of advice from an older man to a younger one. 
"I'll tell you what people want to hear, preacher. 
They want to hear how God is going to help them."

In other words, "Quit talking about the cross. 
Tell us that God loves us. 
Tell us that God answers prayer. 
Tell us that God will help us. 
Tell us that God will solve our problems. 
But don't tell us to take up our cross."
Hmmm. Is that true?
Would we rather wear a gold cross than bear a wooden cross?

So here is one of my questions for this morning:
What does it mean to deny ourselves?
People who are out of work are learning to do without. They are eating out less, watching movies at home and sticking close to home.
For our society, self-denial means we cut corners and cut back on life’s pleasures.
For Jesus, however to deny ourselves meant something quite different.
To deny ourselves means to make sacrifices.
A sacrifice is something we make in order to help someone else.
When we deny ourselves of something, we give it to someone else.
We usually think of self-denial as a negative thing; having less stuff, sacrificing what we want so others can have what they need.
But self-denial can also be a positive thing.
It means we are “giving”.
It means we are generous people, who enjoy distributing our resources whenever there is a need.
Therefore, our lives have purpose because through our giving we are making a difference in the lives of others.

Many of you I suspect could tell stories about how you grew up in humble beginnings and had parents who worked hard in order for you to have the basic needs of food, shelter and clothing.
Or, how one of your parents worked extra long hours so you could get a good education and be prepared to make something of yourself—in the hopes that you might make a difference in the world.
Most of us are recipients of someone else’s sacrificial giving and serving in some way.

Jesus denied himself by rejecting power, wealth and privilege.
He also “suffered”, meaning he substituted himself for our shortcomings, our mistakes, our lack of generosity, our failure to accept others who are different and our anxious self-protection.

Jesus said:  "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me."

So what does it mean to “take up our cross”?
For folks like Peter and the disciples, that reference to taking up a cross would no doubt have brought to mind images of a criminal, carrying a cross, trudging to his death.
They might have envisioned pain, bleeding, cruelty, punishment and anxiety.
So it is not surprising that Peter would respond in the way he did, taking up a cross, is not something any sane person would want to do.
I would suspect that such images are not the first thing that comes to our minds when we hear those words “Take up your cross”.
In this day and age the only ones who take up a literal cross and hikes it around the state are those individual who are doing it by choice, or they are doing it because they are passionate about their faith.
Perhaps it is because of such passionate faith that those who have chosen not to follow Jesus--look upon anyone with any sort of passionate faith as one of those religious fanatics or wackos.
And yet, there are so many of us who claim to be followers of Jesus and yet, most of us would not be considered religious fanatics or wackos, why is that?
Is it because our version of “taking up our cross” has become watered down?
Does it mean that our efforts to make a difference aren’t making much of a difference?

In the spirit of making a difference, in the spirit of being passionate about something, allow me to make a suggestion that being that in the gospel the cross is synonymous with forgiveness.
To take up our cross means to be a person who is committed to forgiving others.
That means we are not afraid to “let go.”
Unfortunately our lives are cluttered with stuff; like resentment, anger, hostility, revenge, stubbornness and malice.
And I don’t know about you, but I have found that I have a hard time moving forward when I am unable to let go of my negative feelings toward others and forgive.

It is my understanding and my belief that to be a disciple of Jesus is to make sacrifices for others and to forgive, just as we are forgiven. 
I also believe that Jesus wants us to be his followers.
But you know what?
Following is not something we do very well.
We would rather go our own way.
Too many of us are still humming that Frank Sinatra tune, “I Did It My Way” and not “I Have Decided to Follow Jesus”.
As a society we have lifted personal freedom and independence at the expense of others to the point of idolatry and where has it gotten us? 
To be a follower of Jesus one has to “serve rather than be served.”
As our gospel reads, “For those who want to save their life will lose it.”

So what does it mean to follow Jesus?
Earlier in the gospel of Mark, (Mk 2:14) Jesus told Levi to follow him.
Levi, a tax collector followed Jesus.
They ended up at Levi’s home.
Gathered were the disciples, tax collectors, and known sinners.
They were all broken people whose lives needed healing.

In Matthew Jesus was walking by the Sea of Galilee and saw Peter and his brother Andrew.
“Follow me and I will make you fish for people,” (Matt. 4:19), he said.

Also, in Matthew (19:21) Jesus told the man who wanted a perfect life to let go of his possessions and follow him.

And in John, (Jn. 21:19) Jesus was challenging Peter to follow him by feeding his sheep and his lambs.

The New Testament has multiple images of what it means to follow Jesus.
And at the heart of those images is the reminder that following means recognizing our flaws and self-absorption.
Following Jesus means to shift one’s priorities and commit our lives from mere lip service to discipleship.
It means realizing that following is more than wearing a gold cross around your neck and maybe it means cashing in that gold in order to care for the lost and the vulnerable and begin living sacrificially.
That almost sounds fanatical doesn’t it?

Recently I ran across a helpful illustration that has helped my gain a new insight in defining a follower of Jesus.
The illustration raises the question: are you a thermometer or a thermostat?
When we are like a thermometer we know whether it is too hot or too cold.
We sense who is unfriendly or different.
We offer our criticisms about those who don’t meet our standards.
We complain and rant, but do nothing to change the situation for the better.

On the other hand, if you are a thermostat, you sense that a room is too cold and you turn up the heat.
If the room is too hot, you turn the thermostat down to cool things off.
When we are like a thermostat we work to change a situation where there is disharmony or conflict.
In other words, you commit yourself to making the world you life in a better place.
When we follow Jesus we are like a thermostat, sensing situations where there is unlove and giving your love. Sensing relationships where there is need for forgiveness and turning up God’s grace.
Or, raising the standard of living for others by making sacrifices.

In today’s Gospel reading Jesus raises the question that each and everyone of us needs to ponder each and every morning when we climb out of bed: Who do you say that I am?

And depending on how we answer that question, Jesus extends the only invitation that really matters—the invitation to follow him to place familiar and to places and settings unfamiliar;
the invitation to deny yourself and live sacrificially for the both the common good and for the benefit of those who are in need of what we have to share;
and the invitation to take up the cross of forgiveness and grace.
The question has been raised and the invitation has been extended.
May God’s Spirit guide you in your response and your reaction.

Amen

Pastor Stephen Blenkush

 

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