September 20, 2015

Helen Jacobi

Ordinary Sunday 25     Jeremiah 11:18-20     Psalm 54     James 3:13-4:3, 7-8     Mark 9:30-37

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The gospel of Mark reads like those headline banners that run across the bottom of your TV screen on the BBC or CNN. I tend to read them when I am at the gym on the treadmill and it only takes a minute or so for them to start repeating again. Today they probably read – refugees continue to flood Europe; the Pope arrives in Cuba; and maybe a rugby world cup score. Mark’s headline banners would be: Jesus continues to draw large crowds; Jesus heals everyone; Jesus confuses his disciples with strange teaching; then they would repeat again: Jesus continues to draw large crowds; Jesus heals everyone; Jesus confuses his disciples with strange teaching.

The gospel writer we call Mark is just trying to get it all down and get the story circulating. No words are wasted or embellished; it is all a bit breathless. The mood goes up and down too. In chapter 9 we have had the “transfiguration” where Peter, James and John have a vision of Jesus and Moses and Elijah; then the dramatic healing of a young boy “possessed by a demon”; all very exciting and upbeat; and then suddenly (today’s passage) they are on the road and Jesus is talking about his death; the disciples are arguing (again) who will be greatest; and then he is telling them to become slaves and bother with children, who no one but women bothered with. A rollercoaster of up and down; feelings of great excitement and then challenge and bewilderment.

When Barbara Brown Taylor examines a biblical passage she uses all five senses and asks what colour is the passage? What does the passage taste or smell like? This passage today starts off with fear, the shadow of betrayal, and fear of the unknown. Purple maybe. Or a stormy sky kind of colour. The Son of Man is to be betrayed into human hands, and they will kill him, and three days after being killed, he will rise again.

Then silence and embarrassment; a bitter taste; or maybe the taste of a stale, dry biscuit. ‘What were you arguing about on the way?’ But they were silent, for on the way they had argued with one another about who was the greatest. Silence, embarrassment.

Then Jesus tries to teach them, lift the mood. The last will be first; welcoming a child is where you begin. This part about Jesus welcoming the children conjures up picture perfect Sunday School books; and saccharine sermons about welcoming sweet children. In Jesus’ day children were worthless until they could work and certainly did not merit the notice of a teacher like Jesus. So the welcome of the child belongs with the last being first. Children were most certainly last. This is not a sweet tasting image but a challenging one. Hot spices; wake up. Red alert. Change your ways.

Mark’s community had lots of questions – which is why Mark starts writing his gospel full of quick headlines. Why did Jesus die? Why are our leaders continually arguing who is the greatest? What about the slaves and those of lower status – do we really have to include them in our midst? Each line of Mark’s writing is an answer to a question.

And the letter of James, written a generation at least later, elaborates. Watch out for envy and ambition; seek wisdom and peace; not murder and conflict. Things seem to have got worse, not better in the Christian community. Mark’s headlines don’t seem to have stuck and so James, like the other letter writers, tries to guide the church.

Are these snippets of teaching and glimpses into the life of Jesus any use to us today? As we tackle the challenges of our age are they any help? This month we have been reflecting on the care of creation and the challenges of climate change. But we can ask the same question of any issue we face – does the Jesus story help? The purple, dark clouds of despair certainly gather gloomy over our heads. The earth is warming, the seas are rising. For decades now we have been arguing, who is right; who has the best science; which political deal might be a way forward. It feels stale and dry in our mouths. We have heard it all before. Now as the headline flashes past on our screen we barely see it.

There has been the case in the news this week of Ioane Teitiota, from Kiribati who has been trying to argue that he and his family should be allowed to stay in NZ because of rising sea levels from climate change. If we continue the way we are there will be no Kiribati for him to call home. The churches in Polynesia have been calling for us to pay attention to climate change for some years. Archbishop Winston Halapua talks about “moana” theology. A theology of the sea which connects us all but which also has danger in it, the danger of the rising sea.

And what is Jesus message? red hot as usual; spicy. Look out for the child; look out for the least. Of course we say, we would always do that. Yet we are deporting a family to Kiribati. We are continuing to dither on climate change goals which mean that eventually we will have to welcome all of the Kiribati people as climate change refugees. We are not looking out for the child and the least at all. Yet as individuals we feel pretty powerless; we are the confused silenced disciples not understanding and not knowing which way to turn. And so we need to start as Jesus did with the people in front of him; the child in the crowd. He said welcome this child, this one right here, and you welcome me, and by welcoming me you welcome God. Finally a brighter colour and the taste of fresh fruit and hope. Start here with what is in front of you.

As a church community we have a new social justice committee who are going to guide us in actions we can take together; and who are going to be a conduit of information for all the actions you are already taking in your own contexts and lives. We are going to get going on the renewal of our precious green space outside our church. We are going to start with what is right here; the gardens, the paths; the green space which can be a haven for us and our neighbours in our city. Fixing up our gardens won’t change the world, solve climate change, and bring about world peace. But the conversations we have with each other and our neighbours about what we want and what they need, will change us.

The conversations we have with the city about this church and its place in the city will change us and maybe the city just a little. You never know we might even make a headline or two.