Mark 9:38-50
Eighteenth Sunday after
Pentecost
27th September 2015
What
a week this has been. We’ve been flooded,
flooded with images of Pope Francis’ historic visit, first to Cuba and then to
the United States. We’ve seen images of
the pope at the White House, Congress, in parades, processions, a canonizing
Mass, on airport tarmacs, at St. Patrick’s in New York, the United Nations,
praying at Ground Zero, driving through Central Park, rocking Madison Square
Garden, visiting Independence Hall in Philadelphia, visiting schools, Catholic
Charities, and flitting about in a Fiat, with one arm out the window waving as
he goes. It’s been a remarkable week. A week
of many firsts, highly symbolic and significant for the Roman Catholic Church and for the church catholic, for all
Americans, really, and for the world.
I think we can all agree that there’s something different
about this Pope. I can’t remember a pontiff
receiving this kind of adulation and support from beyond the Roman Catholic
world, can you? As a staunch Protestant and one who is very Reformed, I confess that I’ve been surprised by my own
response to Francis and to his visit.
There were times when I had to catch myself and remember that I’m a
Presbyterian. I’ve been glued to the
television or the computer screen. The
world of social media, especially Facebook and Twitter and Instagram, was/is exploding
with images and commentary, most of it (not all) very good.
A Presbyterian
minister colleague and friend, Henry Brinton, wrote an article in the
Huffington Post, titled, “Presbyterians Don’t Have a Pope, but I’m a Fan ofFrancis.” Another Presbyterian minister, Rebecca Todd Peters, wrote an article
confessing “Protestant Pope Envy.” My
friend Kate Killebrew, a Presbyterian pastor in New Jersey, yesterday asked on
Facebook if anyone had a Pope Francis bobble head to go with her bobble heads
of Calvin and Luther, which she wanted to use in worship this morning.
I really wanted an opportunity to catch a glimpse of Francis.
We were able to get tickets to the Pope’s speech to Congress—get this, from a
guy named Gabriel. No, we weren’t inside
the House Chamber, but out on the West Lawson with thousands others, watching, listening
to the Jumbotron. And then the Pope came
out on one of the upper terraces of the U. S. Capitol Building and spoke to the
crowd. It was amazing. Electric.
So, yes, I’m a fan of Francis. But
don’t worry; I’m not ready to give up my membership in the Presbyterian
Church.
The Pope’s story—his ministry, his message, his style,
his works of justice and mercy—is extraordinary. He’s accomplished a lot in the
Vatican in a very short time. There’s something
different is at work in him, something very intentional.
Did
you hear that the Pope made history two weeks ago when he welcomed a woman
archbishop to an official audience at the Apostolic Palace in Rome? He welcomed Antje Jackelén, the archbishop of
the Lutheran Church of Sweden, and referred to her as “my esteemed sister.”
And
earlier this year there was another historic first. Pope Francis walked into a Waldensian Church in
Turin and formally apologized for the church’s persecution of the Waldensians, the
followers of Peter Waldo (1140-1218) in the thirteenth century. Why was that significant? Because the Waldensians called for reform of
the Church almost three centuries before Luther (1483-1546) and others got
around to it. They were persecuted and
had to flee to the caves in the hills outside Turin to worship. You can visit
those caves today. There’s some evidence
that the Waldensian movement influenced St. Francis of Assisi (d.1226).[1]
When the Reformation took root in Europe the Waldensians joined the ranks of
the Protestants. Today, the Waldensian
Church is technically the Reformed or Presbyterian Church in Italy. They’re a tiny minority in Catholic Italy, with
a strong history and impressive social justice witness in the contemporary
church, both in Europe and here in the United States, east of Asheville, North
Carolina. The pope said, “On behalf of the Catholic Church, I ask forgiveness for the
un-Christian and even inhumane positions and actions taken against you
historically. In the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, forgive us!”
It’s fitting, therefore, that the lectionary reading this
Sunday from Mark (which is an extremely demanding text) comes to us as the Pope
brings his visit here to a close. I’m
not going to focus on the verses where Jesus talks about millstones and cutting
off sinful appendages. I remember first reading those verses as a child, right
after I received my Bible in Third Grade.
Reading it literally (because I was in third grade) I went crying to my
mother because I was so scared by this text.
I didn’t know at the time how my eyes or feet or arms did anything that
could warrant their removal, but I became fearful that I might one day do
something or see something that would require their elimination—and I
definitely didn’t want to go to hell.
These verses are not meant to be literal—they’re good examples of how
taking portions of the Bible literally is dangerous and not good for one’s
health. But I’m not going to focus on
these verses.
Instead, we have in verses 38 and following this account
of John reporting back to Jesus, “Teacher, we saw someone casting out demons in
your name, and we tried to stop him, because he was not following us.” But Jesus said, “Do not stop him; for no one
does a deed of power in my name will be able soon afterward to speak of me. Whoever is not against us is for us.”
Two verses, yet extraordinary wisdom is offered
here. It’s a fascinating window, as
well, into the narrow, selfish, petty, jealous, fearful psyches of Jesus’
followers. They think that Jesus belongs
to them! They think his ministry belongs
to them.! They’re treating Jesus as a commodity, as if they held the intellectual
copyright to Jesus’ message and ministry.
Extraordinary. The disciples
actually tried to stop someone from getting healed because they weren’t the
ones “managing” the Jesus brand. They
would rather let someone remain bound by a demon, suffering, than rejoice that
someone, finally, experienced liberation, redemption, healing. The disciples are often selfish. They want the power and they want to control
how it’s used. We’ve seen this throughout
Mark’s gospel over the last couple of weeks.
Time and again, Jesus is offering an inclusive
message. Time and again, the disciples
want to be exclusive. Time and again,
Jesus seeks to be broad. Time and again,
the disciples want to be narrow. Jesus
is trying to bring more and more into the fold.
The disciples want to admit only some and reject others. For them it’s about them and their power.
Jesus is about his Father’s work. That’s all that matters. His Father’s work is justice and mercy. That’s what matters. That’s what the kingdom of God is about. Making space for the least among us (as we
explored last week), making a place for the marginalized, the invisible, the
voiceless in society, giving them an honored place at the table, giving them an
opportunity to live with dignity, giving them an occasion for hope in the face
of a corrupt, immoral system set up to destroy and diminish most in order to
allow some to survive, prosper, and thrive.
“Whoever is not against us is for us.” There are others out there in the world doing
the work of Jesus, sometimes saying his name, sometimes not, all engaged in
acts of justice and mercy. Whether they
know it or not, whether they’re Christian or not, they are being Christ-like, for
to be Christ-like is to embody God’s kingdom of justice and mercy. This too is a message the pope seems to be
stressing to the Church as a whole, but also, perhaps, particularly to the
Roman Catholic Church in how it relates to the entire body of Christ.
Several times this week, on different occasions, I heard
people say to me that what they really like about Pope Francis is that he’s
“inclusive.” I think that’s true and I
suspect that’s what’s really speaking to so many, both Catholic and Protestant,
both Christian and non-Christian. Last
Sunday in adult education Mary Gaut introduced us to the Pope’s recent
Encyclical, Laudato Si’: On Care For Our Common Home. It’s
essentially a call to address the threat of climate change. It’s not extraordinary for popes to release
encyclicals; that’s what, in part, popes do.
However, this one is addressed to the Church—and, “to all people of good will.” Inclusive.
All people of good will. If
you’re committed to the good of society, the good of all people, then you’re with
me and I’m with you. So let’s do this work together because there’s work to be
done.
When
the Pope addressed the crowd on the West Lawn on Thursday morning he invited us
to pray for him, which is his customary way of ending a Mass or a speech within
the church. But then he said if you’re
an unbeliever or cannot pray for whatever reason, then please send me your “good
wishes.” Inclusive again. That was an enormously generous gesture. Bringing people in. Inviting people of good will to wish him well
in his work. “Whoever is not against us
is for us.”
There were some who were not happy with the pope’s
address to Congress—of course. Some of
the criticism came from certain Fundamentalist sects within the Church—of
course. Some of the strongest outrage
came from Christians who were appalled, stunned, that the Pope never referred
to Jesus in his speech. My friend,
Simeon Spencer, pastor at the Union Baptist Church in Trenton, New Jersey said,
in response to this ridiculous outrage,
“Please. I've encountered some Jesus in a lot of folk who didn't say his
name.... Sometimes more so than in folk who call his name all the time....”
Exactly. There was Jesus all over that
speech to Congress. Anyone who knows
Jesus or knows something about him knows that he was there—that’s what, in part,
made it so extraordinary.
“Whoever is not against us is for us.”
So be
merciful.
Be
merciful. And the more merciful you are,
the more inclusive your mercy, the more people will be drawn to the source of
mercy, which is none other than the grace of God.
Pope Francis’ personal motto is Miserando atque aligendo. Roughly
translated, it means, “Choosing through the eyes of mercy.” The motto is taken
from the Homilies of Bede the Venerable.
The eighth
century English monk, Bede (672-735) writes in his commentary on the Gospel
story of the calling of Matthew (Matthew 9:9-13): “Jesus saw a publican, and
since he looked at him with feelings of love and chose him, he said to him,
‘Follow me.’” The pope adds: “I think the Latin gerund miserando is impossible to translate in both
Italian and Spanish. I like to translate it with another gerund that does not
exist: misericordiando [“mercy-ing”].[v] Choosing through mercy-ing.
Showing compassion.
Choosing mercy. Mercy-ing. How
can we do that? How can we show more compassion? Choose mercy? As a Protestant, as a
Presbyterian, conscious of my weaknesses and sin, knowing my own proclivity to
choose otherwise, I would say, we don’t first choose to be merciful. That’s because in some sense we have already been
chosen, or, better, we are already the
object of someone else’s choice. We are always
the objects of someone’s, of God’s gracious choosing. As in the calling of Matthew, Jesus saw him,
viewed him through mercy, in grace, and chose him, and then said, “Follow
me.” The call from God is always an
expression of mercy and grace.
Those eyes of mercy have seen us. They’ve noticed you in the crowd, they love you and in mercy choose you and summon
you to follow.
When we know this, when we
know in our heart of hearts—here, within us—that
we
are seen by the eyes of mercy, we too can look out with similar eyes of mercy.
We can be merciful because we
know God has and is merciful toward us.
We are compassionate because
we have felt the compassion of God.
We are inclusive because we
have been included in the realm of God’s grace.
We can be graceful toward the
world because
we
know of God’s “endless grace,” which the choir will sing about this morning in
Stephen Paulus’ (1949-2014) hauntingly beautiful Pilgrim’s Hymn.[2]
Choosing through the eyes of
mercy.
It’s a good motto for everyone
following Jesus,
indeed, for all people of good will who work for justice
with mercy.
[1] See Paul Sabatier, The Road to Assisi: The Essential Biography
of St. Francis (Paraclete Press, 2013).
[2]
Stephen Paulus, Pilgrim’s Hymn
Even before we call on Your name
To ask You, O God,
When we seek for the words to glorify You,
You hear our prayer;
Unceasing love, O unceasing love,
Surpassing all we know.
When we seek for the words to glorify You,
You hear our prayer;
Unceasing love, O unceasing love,
Surpassing all we know.
Glory to the father,
and to the Son,
And to the Holy Spirit.
and to the Son,
And to the Holy Spirit.
Even with darkness sealing us in,
We breathe Your name,
And through all the days that follow so fast,
We trust in You;
Endless Your grace, O endless Your grace,
Beyond all mortal dream.
We breathe Your name,
And through all the days that follow so fast,
We trust in You;
Endless Your grace, O endless Your grace,
Beyond all mortal dream.
Both now and forever,
And unto ages and ages,
Amen
And unto ages and ages,
Amen
(Michael Dennis Browne)
