"Getting Over Ourselves"
September 17, 2006: 15th Sunday after Pentecost, Year B
The Rev. John MacIver Gage, senior minister
United Church on the Green, UCC: New Haven, CT
www.unitedchurchonthegreen.org

Scripture:
Mark 8:27-38:
Jesus went on with his disciples to the villages of Caesarea Philippi; and on the way he asked his disciples, 'Who do people say that I am?' And they answered him, 'John the Baptist; and others, Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.' He asked them, 'But who do you say that I am?' Peter answered him, 'You are the Messiah.' And he sternly ordered them not to tell anyone about him. 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. He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. 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.' 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. 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. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? 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.'

"May God speak through these words and make from them a holy word for us today. Amen."

Sermon:
Most of you know who've known me for a while now know that I am something of a movie buff... which is putting it mildly. A couple of years ago, I dropped cable TV service in order to devote myself fulltime to my relationship with the good folks at Netflix and Best Video. I have frequent flier miles at the Criterion Theater. And Oscar Night is a holy day of obligation. So it shouldn't surprise you that I have rather a large personal collection of DVDs at home. I won't brag about the size of my collection, but let's just say that the Dewey Decimal System has been pretty good to me.

These days, though, it seems you can't buy just a movie. Every DVD claims to come "Loaded With Extras!"—you know, interviews with the cast and crew, making-of documentaries, extended and deleted scenes, and of course, the infamous blooper reel. Now, when boredom strikes, you can sit down and watch famous actors fudging their lines and missing their cues and generally cutting up. And oddly enough, there really is a certain amount of pleasure to be derived from their discomfort. The Germans call it schadenfreude, that is, "happiness at the misfortune of others," and though it may not be very nice, it's a very human reaction. It's just somehow sort of gratifying to watch an actor who gets paid millions of dollars per picture stumbling over their words and their feet just like the rest of us.

In the same way, there's a kind of satisfaction to be derived from watching the disciples trip over themselves as they try to follow Jesus through the Gospel According to Mark. They really are their very own blooper reel. Over and over again these twelve pillars of the faith, handpicked by Jesus to take the word of God's redeeming love out into the world, make it abundantly clear just how much they don't get it. In one situation after another, they mistake Jesus' intentions, misinterpret his teachings, and misuse the authority he vests in them. Here are just a few of my favorite disciple screw-ups from Mark's version of the story:

Mark 10:13-16: At one of the many stops along his preaching tour through Galilee, Jesus is approached by parents bringing their children to see the great rabbi that he might take them in his arms and bless them. But in a scene eerily reminiscent of the "Bouncer Ad" from our own "God Is Still Speaking" campaign, the disciples speak sternly to the parents, telling them to keep their snot-nosed brats back behind the velvet rope and not bother the Master, who is a very busy man. Jesus himself is indignant at the disciple's presumption and tells them to "suffer the little children to come unto me," a bit of poetic license he will regret using with this particularly thickheaded bunch for centuries to come.

Mark 9:38-41: Number Four Disciple, John, feeling a bit pleased with himself for making into the inner circle, reports that he has seen someone else casting out demons in Jesus name. In a fit of pique, he asks Jesus if he doesn't want him to go break this other exorcist's knee caps just to show him how filled with the love of God Jesus and his followers really are. Jesus declines John's kind offer and instead points out that "whoever is not against us is for us." One wonders if he had to draw a diagram to explain that one.

And Mark 9:33-37: On the road to Capernaum, Jesus walks on ahead, alone, but he still can't help but hear the disciples behind him squabbling among themselves in feverish stage whispers. (You'd think that by chapter nine they would have learned that there was nothing wrong with Jesus' hearing.) When he turns and asks them what they're arguing about, they all display a sudden fascination with their sandals. When pressed, they sheepishly confess that they have been trying to determine which of them is the greatest. Sheepish, indeed. They should have kept their mouths shut.

Now, I don't know which of them was the greatest, but it's clear in Mark's retelling that of all the disciples, none was as prone to foot-in-mouth disease as Simon Peter, the Rock himself; in fact, if I were casting a movie of these scenes, I'd be inclined to look for a young Chevy Chase-type to give Peter the Gerald Ford treatment. Throughout gospel narrative, Peter displays an uncanny knack for stepping right smack in the middle of the biggest cow pies along the Way.

Remember Peter at the Transfiguration? There's Jesus up on the mountainside, fairly dripping with heavenly glory, communing with Moses and Elijah, no less, and what does Peter have to say but, "You know, Jesus, it's a good thing I'm here." Oh, really? It literally takes the voice of the Lord God Almighty to make Peter shut up and listen to Jesus. (Mark 9:2-8). What chutzpah!

Or how about when, on the eve of his final trip to Jerusalem, Jesus is explaining how difficult the way ahead will be, most of all for himself, and Peter chooses that moment to take him on. Peter reminds Jesus—Jesus, of all people—of what they've given up for him:

"Look, Jesus, we have left everything in order to follow you and not once have we asked what's in it for us."
"Yes, Peter?"
"Well... so now I'm asking: What's in it for us?" (Mark 10:28-31)

And of course it's Peter who will deny Jesus three times before the cock crows twice on Good Friday morning. "Oh no, not me, Lord. All the others may fall away, but I, I will never give you up, no way, no how! No matter how bad things get, you can always count on me!" Cock-a-doodle-oy! (Mark 14:26-31 and 14:66-72)

So doubtless it's with some trepidation that Jesus approaches this morning's lesson with Peter and the rest of the Funky Bunch. "So, um, who do people say that I am? I mean, I was just wondering. No pressure. But if you had to guess...?"

Their responses, of course, are all over the map. "Some say you're John the Baptist. Others say Elijah, or one of the other prophets, come again."

Okay. Big breath now. Might as well push on: "And you?" the Only Begotten of God asks casually, trying not to get his hopes up, "Who do you say that I am?"

Given the disciples' track record in such matters, it's not hard to imagine the glimmer of hope—and the very real surprise—Jesus felt when Peter—Peter, of all people!—waded into the discussion with "Why, you are the Messiah." There it was: a right answer at last, Lord love him! Gold star for Peter, for sure. And so Jesus goes on to explain that yes, the Messiah, the savior, but a savior who will make himself vulnerable to the slings and arrows of his enemies and even die before being raised again to underline God's power to overcome sin and God's grace to forgive.

And then Peter has to go and ruin the moment by opening his mouth once more: "No, no, no, Jesus. You've got it all wrong. That's not what I meant. Here, let me explain it to you..." And Jesus' heart just falls.

Well, apparently even a Messiah's patience has its limits, 'cause Jesus just rounds on Peter and tells him off. "Listen, you... you... Satan, you adversary, you contrary li'l' cuss. You're the one who's got it all wrong. I'm trying to tell you about the way the world looks through God's eyes, but you can't see past the end of your human, all-too-human nose. Now get back in line with the rest of these jokers and see if you can't learn a little something before, God help me, I have to go and leave you in charge of my ministry! How does that sound, hot shot?" (That's a loose paraphrase, of course.)

In the disciples' defense, though they may do stupid things, they aren't really stupid people. They're doing their level best to follow in the way of Jesus, but it isn't easy. Repentance, redemption, liberation, salvation—it isn't easy. Jesus is asking them to change the way they see the world, to set their minds on divine things, on the better way of God, the way of abundant life for all, not the lesser ways of human beings which demean and diminish. He is asking them to exchange exclusion for hospitality, scarcity for extravagance, and cynicism and apathy for hope. But old habits die hard, and they don't go without a fight. So the disciples don't simply become better people every day in every way. This new life in Christ comes in fits and starts. They do trip over themselves along the way. Some days are good, and they seem to get it, and life is good. But some days it's two steps forward and three steps back. And other days, it's no steps at all.

Of course, the same could be said of Jesus' latter day disciples, ie, the church, ie, us here today. We are heir to all the same faults and foibles as our forebears in faith. Even 2000 long years later, the church is still mistaking Jesus' intentions, misinterpret his teachings, and misusing the authority he has vested in us. We still exclude those whom Jesus loves. We still operate out of a sense of scarcity—of resources, of power, of grace—instead of embracing God's extravagant love for all. And we, and we especially, are prone to bouts of deadening apathy and razor-sharp cynicism, especially perhaps today, even though in Christ, who died, yes, but was raised to new life, God offers us hope beyond hope. And so, like Peter and John and James before us, we trip and fall and fail. And when we do, we are too often likely to stay down because we think we're either not good enough to get up or too good to risk embarrassing ourselves all over again.

But those ditzy disciples—even Peter, who denied Christ in his hour of greatest need—when they fell down on the Way, they had the courage and the good humor to pick themselves up, dust themselves off, and start all over again. Though they failed, and frequently, they didn't wallow in self-defeating self-pity. Neither did they let their wounded pride keep them from following this One in whose face they saw the face of God. Jesus was just too good to let get away. So how could they be too good to follow where he led, despite the threat of a lot more skinned knees and bruised egos along the way? No, fortunately for us, the disciples got over themselves and got on with being disciples, that is, learners of the way of God in Christ. Without them—and without folks waiting to extend to them a graceful welcome home—we would not be here today enjoying the fruits of their faithful perseverance in the church.

Now there are plenty of folks outside the church who think what we do here is laughable; that even if there is a God, it's the height of folly to believe that the Power Behind the Universe is in any way personal, and more, wants to be in relationship with us human beings. "Go on, pull the other one!" they say. "Next you'll be telling us this God of yours came to us and shared our common lot in some Jewish peasant 2000 years ago, and that even though he was crucified like a common criminal, he was raised again on the third day in order to show us just how much God loves us all! Yeah, sure, right. The church's entire history is one of self-serving self-delusion. Waiter, can we get some more opium of the masses on table one, please?"

At the same time, there are plenty of folks within the wider church who say that what we do here—particularly here at United Church on the Green and in other likeminded churches—is not just laughable, but outright dangerous; that by preaching God's extravagant love for all persons, no matter who they are, no matter where they are on life's journey, but especially today for lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender persons; that by lifting up God's justice which critiques all the lesser justices and prejudices and outright oppressions of any particular nation; that by urging God's lasting peace as the only cure for our deadly human addiction to violence and war; that by doing all these things we are leading others into grievous error and sin. To their way of thinking, we are fools indeed, and worse.

But that's okay. I'm fine with that. I'm willing to be a fool. If you have any doubts about that, just take a look at the cover of last week's New Haven Advocate. "Gay with God" indeed! Look at me going on television like I'm selling aluminum siding in order to spread the good word. Look at me—me, of all people, Simon Peter's less adept younger brother—standing up in front of God and everyone here later this afternoon in order to make promises to serve Jesus as a leader in this congregation when I know, I know I will inevitably trip and fall and fail him and you somewhere along the way... and you, me. But I am more than willing to be a fool for a good cause, and what better cause can there be than a gospel of grace?.

As we set out on this next leg of our journey together as a congregation, I invite you to join me in becoming holy fools for the sake of the gospel. It's a hard thing to ask, I know, but there is simply too much at stake, too many lives in desperate need of this justice, this peace, this compassion, for us to get hung up on our left-over self-loathing or our fears of embarrassing for ourselves. It's true, we won't always get it right—not hardly. And we won't always be respected for it—not often. As our New Light forebear in faith, abolitionist theologian Joseph Bellamy put it so succinctly way back in the 1700's, we have to be willing even to be damned for the glory of God and for the new life Christ brings. But at least we'll be in good company with Peter and James and John and all the rest of Jesus' crack disciple squad down through the ages. And after all, as Jesus said, what does it profit a man, a woman, a church, if we gain the whole world—the whole cautious, respectable world—and forfeit God's gift of abundant life for us and for all people?

No, the call is clear. Friends, we just gotta get over ourselves and get behind Jesus once more, where disciples belong, and get on with the work of the Gospel. And then God—God who is gracious and forgiving and who clearly, clearly has an outrageous sense of humor—God will take care of the rest. This is the promise we have from God in Christ, the promise of the cross and the empty tomb, that God will take all our false-starts and our half-hearted attempts, our worst best efforts and our best worst efforts and even our successes and put them to work for God's pure purposes in the world. And, as hard as it may be to believe, God will take even us, ourselves, as imperfect as we are, and make us all perfect in God's good time. Thanks be to God.