Whoever is not against us, is for us. A sermon for September 26th 2022.

 

Sermon for Sunday 26^th September 2021.

Hear the Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ, according to Mark.     (Mark 9:38-50)

³⁸John said to him, “Teacher, we saw someone casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him, because he was not following us.” ³⁹But Jesus said, “Do not stop him; for no one who does a deed of power in my name will be able soon afterward to speak evil of me. ⁴⁰Whoever is not against us is for us. ⁴¹For truly I tell you, whoever gives you a cup of water to drink because you bear the name of Christ will by no means lose the reward.

⁴²“If any of you put a stumbling block before one of these little ones who believe in me, it would be better for you if a great millstone were hung around your neck and you were thrown into the sea. ⁴³If your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life maimed than to have two hands and to go to hell, to the unquenchable fire. ⁴⁵And if your foot causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life lame than to have two feet and to be thrown into hell. ⁴⁷And if your eye causes you to stumble, tear it out; it is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than to have two eyes and to be thrown into hell, ⁴⁸where their worm never dies, and the fire is never quenched.

⁴⁹“For everyone will be salted with fire. ⁵⁰Salt is good; but if salt has lost its saltiness, how can you season it? Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace with one another.”

 

 

Heavenly Father, let the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be acceptable in your sight. Amen.

Back in the eighties, for a short while, I was a bouncer.

This may be surprising, as I wasn’t sporty or intimidating and it was actually on a stage rather than at the door, as I wrote and performed in a sketch at a sixth form review in school based on two characters created by the comedy double act Hale and Pace.

They were called the two Ron’s, otherwise known as ‘da management.’ They were two bouncers in dinner jackets, standing side by side and being very serious, ‘we are’ said one, ‘de management’ said the other, then they would say something silly or absurd,

For example, one says, ‘we don’t like people who argue, we don’t like conflicts,’ and the other says, ‘I don’t like any kind of breakfast cereal.’

You may remember them, or maybe you’re all too young, but I recruited a lad from the rugby team and we did some one liners based on school life, as bouncers.

And I digress slightly but, de management, came to mind from reading the Gospel and from seeing someone casting out demons, and the disciples saying, we tried to stop him.

They were almost like the stereotype of the bouncers we see on TV.  Mention the word bouncer, and we conjure up an image of big, tall bodybuilders with menacing expressions, grimly guarding the doors of bars or nightclubs. De Management.

A bouncer’s provides security, keeps order, refuses entry to people who aren’t allowed in, and to “bounce” out anyone who is no longer welcome.  The bouncer serves as a gatekeeper for those whom they serve. They decide who is an insider and who is an outsider?  Who deserves to come in, and who should be left out in the cold.

Our Gospel reading offers us a story of zealous, would-be “bouncers”, the disciples notice “someone” casting demons out in Jesus’s name, and they respond by donning their bouncer DJ’s and barring the doors: “Teacher, we tried to stop him, because he was not following us.”

 

They thought they were in the right, but Jesus is not at all concerned: “Do not stop him; for no one who does a deed of power in my name will be able soon afterward to speak evil of me.  Whoever is not against us is for us." If anything, their actions motivate Jesus to issue some of his most strongly worded statements.

It’s a reminder of the church’s long history of spiritual gatekeeping, causing God to spend a lot of time throwing open the doors we run around closing. 

How ironic it is that ‘de church management’ feel more zealous about the borders of God’s kingdom than God does!

Why is it that some in the church find such satisfaction in seeing themselves as God’s bouncers?  Interpreting the word of God to put up barriers or decide who is saved or who is damned?

Why is it are we so much better at noticing and judging differences than we are at seeing and celebrating commonalities?

It’s human nature to seek differences, to fear the other, and yet I don’t think God sees anywhere near as many differences as we do…

The tricky thing about this is that the disciples’ motivation in these stories is good.  They’re not hateful people; they’re well-intentioned people, who just want to honour and protect the sacred. 

It’s ironic that the disciples balk at an outsider exorcising demons in Jesus’s name.  Never mind that the fellow is out there doing good.  

Never mind that he’s alleviating suffering, healing brokenness, restoring people to community, and trusting in the name of Jesus to bring healing. 

The problem, to them, is that he’s not doing any of these things in the right way.  He’s doing them differently, on the margins, away from where the disciples might wield appropriate influence and control over his work. (“He’s not following us.”) 

Doubt overrides welcome, what if this outsider is doing a better job than us, or what if the outsider gets the whole religion thing wrong?  Or what if he doesn’t say the right words in the right order? Or what if his unorthodox work in Jesus name gains a following and forces the disciples themselves to change or lose followers. 

Jesus doesn’t give these “what ifs?” any credence at all.  God doesn’t need human beings to protect his interests. God’s spirit is perfectly capable of taking care of herself, and she will blow where, how and when she will, without our help, whether it’s of ill or good intent..

And really, Jesus is far too focused on what matters — the culmination of his ministry on the cross — to waste time on gatekeeping.  By this point in Mark’s Gospel, Jesus is speaking openly and frequently about his impending death.

And it’s not just talk — he’s also making his way south towards Jerusalem, away from safety and towards crucifixion.  He knows he’s running out of time. 

He knows he has mere days left to prepare his still clueless disciples for what’s coming.

Jesus's has a growing sense of urgency, frustration, and impatience, so he ramps things up. “Pay attention to what’s important!” he seems to plead.  “Faith is hard! So much is at stake! You are my disciples, what you say and what you do, matter!  So look at the stumbling blocks you place in front of yourselves and each other. 

Look at the pleasure you take in excluding people who live, believe, worship, serve, and practice differently to you.  When your brothers and sisters mess up, help, don’t rejoice.  Stop being stumbling blocks.  Stop being bouncers.  Stop making faith harder for yourselves and for others than it already is.”

The more time I spend thinking about the real Jesus, the more I feel overwhelmed by the radical nature of his openness, his inclusivity, and his hospitality. Every time I think the circle is wide enough, Jesus says, “No, make it wider.” 

Every time I see an appropriate line in the sand between “us” and “them,” saint and sinner, insider and outsider, Jesus smooths out the sand until the line disappears. The music you sing, how you sing it, the robes you wear, the collar, the incense, chairs, pews, cushions on the floor, two candles, four candles or twenty four candles, it all matters, but also, none of it matters, except being united in Jesus, “Whoever is not against us is for us.” 

What an amazing declaration.  Whoever doesn’t oppose God, his mercy, love, kindness, justice, liberation, peace-making, healing and nurturing — is on Jesus’s side, and our work is to welcome them, host them, include them, and love them.  How mind-blowing is that?  How challenging for Christians who love institution of the church so very much.

Some of the language in this week’s Gospel reading is harsh and unforgiving.  It’s not easy to read Jesus’s words about millstones, missing limbs, and unquenchable fire without flinching. 

But we do ourselves and each other a disservice if we assume that Jesus means to condemn us with this language. 

I don’t think, and I could be wrong, which is okay, but I don’t think this passage is about condemnation; it’s about reality.  It’s about what we human beings do.  We exclude.  We judge.  We condemn.  We compare.  Too often, we designate ourselves to be God’s bouncers.

Perhaps, someone may think, if I see someone stumble on a trip hazard, I must go and help them cut off their hand to stop them stumbling again. Or is this a metaphor for setting aside parts of our personality which make us do wrong? Which is right? Do I need to step in and point out which is wrong while putting on a dinner jacket?

In reality, at the risk of being complacent in our polite Church of England way, I think we’re more or less okay here when it comes to stumbling blocks, they are usually more like a small trip hazard on the edge of an old carpet or a trailing wire, but the risk is that if we hurt someone, instead of calling a bouncer, they leave and don’t come back.

The truth is that we are called to be God’s generous and welcoming hosts.  Hosts who throw the doors of the kingdom wide open.  Hosts who understand that there’s enough divine goodness, mercy, and justice to go around. 

Hosts who trust that God can handle our diversity — and delight in it as well. Hosts who respond with joy and gratitude whenever “deeds of power” are done in Jesus’s name.  

Whoever is not against, us is for us.  Jesus has declared this, so let’s break down boundaries, come in from watching the door, leave da management dinner jackets behind, come in and celebrate the kingdom of God in this place, today, with everyone.

Amen.

With thanks to this essay for the inspiration: 

https://www.journeywithjesus.net/lectionary-essays/current-essay?id=3158