Jesus' Mission and the Cost of Discipleship - Redeemer Episcopal Church

Mark 8:31-38

Jesus Foretells His Death and Resurrection

31 Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. 32 He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. 33 But turning and looking at his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”

34 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. 35 For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. 36 For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? 37 Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? 38 Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels.”

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This sermon was originally preached for a certain people in a certain context at a certain time. We believe in a God who transcends time and space, so I hope that these words might speak to you here as well. You can read the sermon below, or watch the whole worship service at this link. 

Let us pray. God of grace and resurrection, be with us this morning as we are reminded what Jesus’ mission is truly about and seek to understand the cost of carrying out that mission in this world. Amen. 

We always love a gospel lesson that begins with the word “then.” The word “then” implies that we have any idea at all what was happening directly before this story about Jesus and his disciples. And in this case, it is vitally important that we understand the context of this private conversation he is having with his friends. 

In Jesus’ ministry thus far, he has won every fiery debate with religious leaders, he has healed many people, he has fed thousands with what began as a meager meal, he has cured blindness, and he has gained a following of several thousand people. Just before this story we heard this morning is the conversation about Jesus’ reputation: “who do people say that I am?” It seems that he is being talked about more and more, his popularity, at least among the poor and suffering, has increased significantly. And his notoriety among the more powerful is becoming obvious. People are following him around a bit, and it won’t be long before his actions cause some violent antagonism. 

So it makes sense that the disciples would begin talking about what this all means for THEM. If Jesus was this popular, if he had such a following, wouldn’t that mean that some of that popularity and glory would rub off on them? Even just by their proximity to him, they might expect to become quite powerful as well. In the next couple of chapters of Mark, the disciples do, indeed, debate and grapple with one another about who is the favorite and which one of them would get to sit at the coveted seat next to Jesus in the end. The disciples have certainly picked up on the fact that Jesus not just any other prophet… he is the real deal, and other people have noticed too. 

Which, of course, is where this gospel text comes in. Jesus dashes all of their dreams of popularity, earthly glory, and fame by sharing what will happen to him, and what would happen to them as well if they continued to follow him. “The Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again.”

It is no surprise, then, that Peter would rebuke Jesus for predicting his death— what would this mean for Peter himself and the rest of the disciples!? If JESUS was going to be killed?? But Jesus doubles down and continues, addressing not only the disciples but also the crowds around them: “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.” 

The message is clear: following Jesus means participating in his mission. And participating in his mission will result in suffering and possibly, likely, even death. The harsh truth, Jesus tells them, is that his glory is going to come through suffering and death, not from earthly popularity and riches and comfort like they might expect. The disciples are, indeed, following Jesus to a cross. I’d imagine that is not an easy declaration for the disciples to swallow. I wonder just how many people in the crowd that day decided to quit following Jesus and go back home, for fear of being associated with a teacher who would speak so frankly of his own death and the difficulties that would come to those who continued in this mission with him. 

Jesus’ harsh words are that “the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again.”

Without broader context, Jesus’ words here are taken to mean that Jesus’ actual mission in the world is to suffer and die. We hear this in our hymns and perhaps we have even uttered it— that Jesus came to earth to die. But the simpler and more profound truth is not that Jesus came to earth to die, but that his REAL mission— one of radical inclusion, reconciliation, and abiding love— was so contrary to the world in which he lived, so contrary to the rulers, the richest, and the most influential religious leaders at the time— that OF COURSE the result of his message, the result of him bringing about the Kingdom of God— would be death. 

Jesus’ healing mission was not a neutral one. It was not a kumbaya sort of gathering of everyone getting along and fake niceties. It was a healing mission that would bring up the lowly, cast down the mighty, fill the empty, and send the rich away with nothing. It directly threatened the ruling class and the most powerful in society, even the religious people who were in power at the time. 

Jesus, was after all, associating with the poor, lowly, lost, and least of society— declaring that they were worthy of God’s love and of being accepted and loved in society, restoring them to a place within community. And this was especially disruptive to the people who depended on subjugating the poor and powerless. How would they maintain their power and prestige if Jesus went around preaching about banquets where the rich are sent away and the poor are invited to the table? How would the debt collectors feel when Jesus preached about forgiving debts? Jesus’ mission was not neutral— it favored the poor, marginalized, and people that society and even the religious people had cast aside in an effort to claw at more power. 

Jesus’ mission is to bring about peace, but not an absence of conflict— Jesus’ mission is to bring about peace that is deep deep healing, justice, and reconciliation. And this would come at a cost. 

The cost, Jesus made clear, would be his life and the lives of his followers. 

…. 

So dear ones, the question for us this morning is— are we committed to the mission of Jesus? This mission— not neutrality, and not the absence of conflict— but this mission of standing with the marginalized, this mission of healing the sick and preaching the good news of God’s new Kingdom of abundance to those who have never known reconciliation before? And do we understand the cost of this mission? Do we understand that if we devote our lives to it, we will very likely be devoting our very lives to it— perhaps losing everything, including the comforts we have enjoyed in this world, relationships, our security, and possibly even our very lives? 

Is that a commitment that we, as a community or even as individuals, are willing to make? Because this is the commitment and this is the mission that we were baptized into in that holy water, and the mission that we join with Christ each time we partake in his body and blood at this table. Knowing that on the other side of the cross is resurrection and life everlasting, not just for us but for all people. Amen.

God who brings life out of death - Redeemer Episcopal Church

Mark 1:9-15

The Baptism of Jesus

9 In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. 10 And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. 11 And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”

The Temptation of Jesus

12 And the Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness. 13 He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him.

The Beginning of the Galilean Ministry

14 Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, 15 and saying, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.”

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This sermon was originally preached in a specific place with a specific people in a specific time, but we believe in a God who transcends time and space, so I hope that this word might speak to you as well. You can read the manuscript below, or you can listen to the sermon (and see it preached with infusions from the Spirit) by finding it within our worship service video at this link. 

God of life, be with us this morning as we are reminded of Jesus’ journey from baptism, through the wilderness, and into the work of bringing about the Kingdom of God. Amen. 

A couple of weeks ago, Father Wiley talked about the language in Mark’s gospel. It is fast-paced and no-nonsense. It moves so rapidly from one scene to the next that if you’re not paying attention you might miss something important. Compared to the other gospel accounts, there is barely any detail at all and it feels like time is moving super quickly. 

In this pandemic, I have noticed that it has felt like time has kind of morphed into nothingness. On a good day, I know what day of the week it is. On a bad day, I forget the month. Perhaps some of you feel this way too. 

Maybe it’s because we are almost exactly a year out from when the news first broke about this pandemic and we began hunkering down and cancelling things. It seems that time has both compressed and expanded at the same time. 

That is what Mark’s gospel reading feels like this morning. It is quick and has very little detail. There is no long, drawn out description of Jesus’ baptism, no wild narrative of the temptation in the wilderness. We just get these events in rapid succession. 

I think part of the reason is because, for Mark, these are just markers in time. One sentence marks the proclamation of Jesus’ identity. And the next marks the beginning of Jesus’ formation within that identity. Mark doesn’t dwell on any of this because the real story here is that Jesus has work to do in the world! 

As we enter, perhaps timidly, into the season of Lent, we see that Jesus is thrust into the wilderness. We see that everything moves quickly and wildly, from one scene to the next. It feels so much how we are living today— being thrown into the next season of life and liturgy before we have even processed the last. 

But that is the way that time works. I’m reminded often that the older I get, the faster time moves.  And we see Mark employing these rapid pace because baptism is not the end of the story for Jesus. It is not the finish line where he receives his glory— it is only the beginning of what will come. Jesus’ baptism is where he claims his identity and is claimed by God, the very beginning of his formation as God’s child. 

After this, Jesus is thrown into the wilderness, tempted, formed, reformed, and then brought back from the wilderness for his work in the world— the healing, touching, speaking, teaching, loving, invitation— that he will extend to the ends of the earth. The work of the coming of the Kingdom of God. 

The same is true for us in our own baptism. Whether we were baptized as babies, children, or later in our lives, our baptism is only the beginning of our journey with God. Baptism is the first part— an important, vital part— where God says, “yes, this is my child, and no one can name this child anything differently than my beloved.” And then…. And THEN we begin to live into that identity, being thrown into the wilderness of formation, and reformation, questioning, doubt, and new faith. And then we are thrust into the world to participate in the coming of the kingdom of God, with the new knowledge of what it means to be God’s children in the world. 

This morning we also heard the beginning of God’s promise to God’s people after the flood in Genesis. What looks like death for the entire world is actually new life for Noah and his family. The promise of God after the destruction of creation is not the END of God’s relationship with the world, it is the beginning of a new covenant. It is the beginning of a new relationship that will be marked by flourishing and abundance instead of scarcity and rebellion. 

This pattern continues in worship. The confession, the lament we cried out in the Great Litany is not the end of our liturgy, but the beginning of God’s promise to us. God promises to hear us and forgive us each time we come before the alter with our confessions and our laments. Each week, there is a part of our liturgy that we do just that— and then God welcomes us into a new relationship in the body and blood of Christ Jesus at this table. 

And again, it is the same with Ash Wednesday, where we were reminded that we come from the dust and that we will return to the dust. Being reminded of death seems like it would be an ending, but not for our God. God does incredible things with death. 

No, Ash Wednesday is not the end of our season for renewal and growth, but the beginning. God looks at our mortality and says, “I can do something beautiful with that.” And we smear ash on our foreheads, almost as a mockery to death that lingers so near, God only begins working in this season. No, God says, you have no power over my children because they have been claimed by me who bring life out of death. 

We’ll see it as we move through this season of Lent. Whether it flies by or drags along, seemingly endlessly… or whether time continues to contract and expand in incomprehensible ways like it has all year… we will see that God brings life out of death. We will see that this darkness, this wilderness, is only the beginning of what God has in store for God’s people. 

Because God is in the business of bringing about the Kingdom— and the Kingdom of God is full of life, abundance, and flourishing— and death cannot stop it. Despite the start of this season when we come face to face with the darkness, wilderness, and even death— we know, truly, that it is not the end. We know what comes next, we know what comes after baptism and being thrust into the wilderness— it is Jesus’ work bringing about the coming of the Kingdom of God. It is the feast, THIS feast. And it is OUR participation in this feast, in this kingdom work. It is life everlasting, coming at us rapidly, wonderfully, in time that is ever expanding and contracting to meet us. Amen.