Who is the Christ?

Mark 8: 27-38





27Jesus 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?” 28And they answered him, “John the Baptist; and others, Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.” 29He asked them, “But who do you say that I am?” Peter answered him, “You are the Messiah.” 30And he sternly ordered them not to tell anyone about him.
31Then 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. 32He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. 33But 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.”
34He 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. 35For 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. 36For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? 37Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? 38Those 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.”

An exercise I like to do with folks on retreat involves choosing a picture of Jesus that, for them, captures their notion of Jesus.

It might be an image from our Sunday School days -of Jesus surrounded by cute animals. Those sort of pictures hung on the walls of our youth halls.

There are so many images of Jesus from many different cultures.

What about this image of the Rasta Christ?

Or this Korean image of Christ carrying his cross?

An image from the Philippines is of The Angry Christ - painted by an artist whose experience is of oppressive military regimes, depicting the kind of Christ his people need to rescue them from the unfair world that is beyond their control.

But Maybe you're more comfortable with this image of Jesus calming the storm.

And you're probably more familiar with the image of Jesus of Nazareth as portrayed by Robert Powell.

One of my favourite images is the laughing Christ.

I believe Jesus has a great sense of humour and, often, sees the absurdity of life.

So many images of the Christ.

Today, in our gospel, the disciples are being challenged to sort out their image of Christ, to get to grips with Jesus whom they have left everything to follow.

To get real about what that means and about the demands it places on them.

It doesn't seem that long since we considered, here in worship, Jesus question "Who do you say I am?". Some of you were brave enough to share how you would answer that question - who Jesus is for you. It's a question we can never consider too often but today, I'd like to nudge us on a wee bit in our musings - to consider, once we've decided, for ourselves, who Jesus is - what do we do with that information?

However you answer Jesus question for yourself, what difference does your answer make to your life?

In this passage we often focus on what a good answer Peter gave: You are the Christ.

But it is the rest of the passage that gives us some clue as to what  "The Christ" demands of each of us.

The posing of this question in Marks gospel signals a dramatic change in direction for Marks portrayal of Jesus.

A turning point in how Jesus is portrayed from then on in Marks gospel.

It's as though the secret is out -Jesus is revealed as the Christ - and so begins to speak often and at length about his death.

Because this is what is important for Jesus.

It is as though discovering who Jesus is is not enough.

Because our image of Christ is not enough.

And that is why Jesus gets so ticked off at Peter.

Peter has proclaimed him as the Christ.

But the Christ that the people of his age were anticipating was a vastly different character from Jesus.

The Christ they invested their hopes in was a kind of freedom fighter who would violently overthrow those who oppressed Gods people, one who would battle his way to victory.

Jesus needs to disabuse his followers of that notion of him and re-educate them in his vision of The Christ, a vision that involved suffering and death, not violent campaigns to overthrow governments.

That is why, from this point on, Jesus speaks of his road to the cross, calling his followers to join him on his journey.

And why he is so annoyed at Peter for not understanding just how different a Christ he follows.

But who can blame the disciples for being slow to grasp the different kind of road that Jesus would have them travel?

This is not the journey they had anticipated.

This is not the elaborate military campaign they might have envisaged.

Instead, Jesus is taking them on a very different journey - a journey that involves taking up a cross.

So, Peter, having proclaimed Jesus as the Christ has to decide what to do with the kind of Christ that he has chosen to follow.

Will he be able to stick with this Christ - who leads no earthly crusade, who promises no earthly victory?

Peter has to decide - is this new image of Christ one he can continue to follow?

Can he live into being a disciple of THIS Christ?

The one who demands that we discover a new identity -for him AND for ourselves.

Whatever or however we proclaim Christ, he refuses to be moulded to our image and calls us to follow in ways that are not of our choosing.

And so, as we re-define our image of Christ, so too we must re-define our relationship with this Christ.

Over the past couple of weeks, as we have learned about Jesus as portrayed in Mark's gospel, we have pondered the inclusivity of the gospel - the expansion of grace to include all who come.

Jesus reinforces that message of inclusion in today's gospel: "if ANY want to become my followers "

We are all invited.

But it involves denying ourselves, taking up our cross and following.

We are ALL invited.

But will we re-imagine our image of Christ and fall into step with this new, revised version?

Knowing who Jesus is won't do us much good on its own.

Jesus invites us to really get to know him - how?

By following him.

As we follow and learn more and more.

As our image of the Christ is changed by our following, then we can begin to live into being disciples.

"Want to know what I'm like?" invites Jesus.

Then follow me.

We are all invited to know Christ better - by following.

May we be willing to discover who Jesus is as we follow.

And, in discovering the Christ may we be willing to share.

For the love of dog...

Mark 7:24-37

 From there he set out and went away to the region of Tyre. He entered a house and did not want anyone to know he was there. Yet he could not escape notice, but a woman whose little daughter had an unclean spirit immediately heard about him, and she came and bowed down at his feet. Now the woman was a Gentile, of Syrophoenician origin. She begged him to cast the demon out of her daughter. He said to her, ‘Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.’ But she answered him, ‘Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.’ Then he said to her, ‘For saying that, you may go—the demon has left your daughter.’ So she went home, found the child lying on the bed, and the demon gone.

 Then he returned from the region of Tyre, and went by way of Sidon towards the Sea of Galilee, in the region of the Decapolis. They brought to him a deaf man who had an impediment in his speech; and they begged him to lay his hand on him. He took him aside in private, away from the crowd, and put his fingers into his ears, and he spat and touched his tongue. Then looking up to heaven, he sighed and said to him, ‘Ephphatha’, that is, ‘Be opened.’ And immediately his ears were opened, his tongue was released, and he spoke plainly. Then Jesus ordered them to tell no one; but the more he ordered them, the more zealously they proclaimed it. They were astounded beyond measure, saying, ‘He has done everything well; he even makes the deaf to hear and the mute to speak.’

Do you ever get those days when you feel everyone wants a piece of you – and there simply isn’t enough to go around?

Or days when you feel you’ve given all you have to give and you just want to go home, close the door and hide by yourself for a little while?

It seems that Jesus was having a day like that.

 He entered a house and did not want anyone to know he was there

A woman, whose daughter was sick came to seek Jesus’ help when she heard he was there.

It says something of her desperation that she approached, uninvited, a man who was culturally very different to her.

Perhaps it also says something of her courage that she was prepared to take the risk of being shunned by him.

And she was.

A tired out Jesus, just wanting a bit of peace, tried to move her on.

He had enough on his plate without picking up any more demands on his time and energy.

That’s a feeling I think many of us can readily identify with.

Enough already.

Let someone else take over for a while.

We’ve done or bit for now.

But this woman knows that there is no one else.

Lord knows she’s tried them all.

Jesus is her last resort.

So she ignores all her instincts, all her breeding.

She goes against all that she has been taught about social niceties – and she pins Jesus to the wall.

‘Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.’

Jesus hasn’t been very nice with her.

Tired and grumpy.

But this woman isn’t about to be fobbed off.

She throws his words back at him.

Forces him to live up to his own teaching.

Forces him to re-evaluate his mission.

Forces him to step up and reclaim his integrity.

After all she’s not asking for much – only crumbs.

Even Jesus, tired and grumpy as he was, can offer her that.

Remember last week, we heard Jesus saying – its not what goes in to a person that makes them unclean – its what come out?

From that saying, we considered Jesus’ call to us to be inclusive, to be hospitable and welcoming.

In today’s gospel Jesus himself is being called to put that into action.

To widen his remit.

To practice what he preaches.

Jesus finds it in himself, to do the right thing.

And the woman goes away satisfied to find her daughter healed.

Compassion saved the day.

Compassion that couldn’t be thwarted by weariness.

In Mark’s gospel, this encounter – Jesus with the Syro- Phoenecian woman, is seen as a turning point in the spread of the gospel.

Jesus moves from working with his own kind to widening the scope of his mission – taking the message to non Jews.

Broadening out the kingdom.

I wonder when we last confronted our need to change, our need to rethink what we do and how we behave so that we can keep on making room for others.
It’s tempting when we’ve been around a bit, when we think we’ve seen it all, when we think we’ve read the book and got the T shirt, to imagine that the tried and tested ways will always work.
God constantly moves the goal posts, keeps us on our toes, stops us settling into complacency.
God keeps on pushing us to confront how open we really are to those who are different.

The gospel story moves on quickly to another healing – that of the deaf mute.
His encounter with Jesus led to his ears being opened and his tongue being freed.
Hearing – and speaking the love of God.

These two stories thrown together in our gospel work to direct our attention to our need to remain open to God’s mission today, to be prepared to change direction wherever God leads and, in particular, to be careful about excluding others from the kingdom when God shows us time and again, how none are beyond the power and the reach of the gospel.
There are no limits to the reach of God’s love.

Over the lat few weeks I’m sure you, like me, have been inspired by the Paralympics.
Seeing men and women refusing to be confined by physical constraints, refusing to be limited, men and women confounding expectations, setting new records, inspiring others.
Oscar Pistorius,aka the blade runner said:

“You're not disabled by the disabilities you have, you are able by the abilities you have.”

Taking our inspiration today from those Paralympians and from the example of Jesus who, when challenged by a woman outside his circle revised his strategy, let’s look beyond the limits we set, beyond the horizons we see.
Let’s imagine and work to accomplish a wholly inclusive fellowship where all are recognized for the strengths they bring rather than the challenges they present.
And may we be willing to revise our strategy, to abandon our well worn habits, even when we are weary.
May we embrace God’s compassion for the world and ALL its people.

For the glory of God.

Cleaning up our act

A reflection on Mark 7 v 1-23

I’ve been thinking a lot recently about how we do things together as church - both locally and nationally and reflecting particularly on what it must be like for new folk to come here to worship, be they from other similar worshipping congregations or from no particular church background.

What I've been very aware of is the things we do almost unconsciously simply because they are a part of our tradition or because that's just the way we have always done them.

Like communion.

Today, as we come to celebrate this sacrament of communion together, we celebrate a memorial of love and grace - a reminder of the love that God has for us, of how that love was demonstrated in Jesus' death and of how that love is still ours today, free for the taking.

Communion - A memorial Jesus set up in very poignant but simple surroundings, over a meal with friends the night before his death.

A memorial that we have shrouded in solemnity and ritual.

A ritual that, though we might never be entirely comfortable, we are nonetheless familiar with.

But how must our celebration of this sacrament look to those who haven't grown used to all those, let's face it, strange things we do?

A memorial that, though it started off quite simply has become so formal and complex that we worry if we will get it just right - or, will we drop the bread or spill the wine or do something else equally heinous?

I cannot imagine that there was much ceremony around when Jesus instituted this memorial with his disciples over supper.

Indeed I imagine that, although they may well have been affected by a somber attitude - they didn't know what was to come, but Jesus had a pretty good idea - So although things might have been pretty sober, I'm sure they weren't particularly ordered.

Of course to celebrate the sacrament together as a fellowship here with so many more people than gathered round the table with Jesus, it helps to have some order, but we could relax more as we share.

We could even smile as we serve each other.

What matters is that everyone feels welcome here at this table, that everyone feels able to share, that everyone knows that this is for them, that Gods grace touches us all here.

That is what matters in communion – the touch of God’s grace.

We have shrouded the love and the grace that Jesus wanted us to celebrate , we have shrouded that love and grace in ritual and formality and tradition.

The  challenge for every generation in the church is to sort through the traditions handed on to us and, taking care not to throw out the baby along with the bath water to sift through those traditions, preserving only those that still further the cause of the gospel.

No pressure there then!

Often, the church today, shows itself to be living at a disconnect from the people it serves.

But the church is a body of people, so how is it possible to get so out of touch with each other?

One way the church becomes irrelevant is when it stops listening.

Over the past wee while various branches of the church have issued pronouncements, believing that they can speak for the people.

But that position can only be adopted if the church is also prepared to listen, and to listen carefully so that it captures the real concerns of the people it serves.

Otherwise the church displays only arrogance and a disconnect from community.

Each community has a story to tell, a story that is vital and constantly unfolding as life moves on.

And those stories matter.

Traditions are often pointers to that story.

But the story moves on.

And so must tradition if it is to retain any relevance.

.

The faith keepers of Jesus’ day were concerned about hand washing.

Men, who had the luxury of access to all the conveniences required to righteously adhere to an ancient ritual.

Who failed to see that ordinary people had moved on.

Ordinary people who had no less desire to be people of faith but who simply  saw the nonsense in getting so tied up in knots with an ancient practice when faced with much more pressing issues of the day.

The same kinds of issues that face us today.

Huge populations with no access to clean water for basic survival never mind the luxury of using water to purify so that an ancient tradition can be preserved.

Surely today we see and hear Jesus saying to us – get real.

When the hungry are fed.

When the naked are clothed.

When the homeless are housed.

When You who follow me, calling yourselves Christian, live out the love that I commanded, then we can look at traditions.

But then there will be no need.

For we will have learned, in loving and serving each other, that none are to be discarded, that none are unclean.

Besides, we will be too busy anyway, to have energy to spend on things that do not matter.

God is not offended by what we consider unclean.

God is offended by our lack of love.

And a church that thinks that she serves God by excluding any of God’s children is a church that has travelled too far on its own path, too far from the will of God.

A church that doesn’t deserve to be taken seriously.

Today, in worship, we celebrate an ancient tradition.

The particular mode of celebration matters not a bit.

What matters is that, as we mark here the remembrance of a body broken for us and blood spilled for us, we scratch the surface of the ritual and recognise the grace that underlies it.

We celebrate here because Christ died for us – all of us.

Even the symbols we use, bread and wine have become symbols of status.

Symbols that point to our privilege.

As we take for granted these elements of bread and wine in a world where many go hungry, it is even more important that from our place of prosperity we take seriously the demands of the one who gave us these symbols. – Christ’s love and compassion. His acceptance of all.

Our gospel passage, in The Message version of the bible reads:

“We’re saying the right thing – but our heart’s not in it.“

“We’re using Jesus for cover for teaching whatever we fancy”

Are we guilty of that today?

Now, just like the disciples then, we want to ask: We don’t get it Jesus– what does this gospel really mean?

I believe, for us today it means:

It’s not the things around us that contaminate us.

It’s not the dilemmas we face today.

But it’s how we respond to those dilemmas.

How we respond to those who are different.

Do we act out of love?

Out of compassion?

Or are we more concerned that by being open, accepting, welcoming, we will somehow become less ourselves.

As God’s people today we are called, not to hold ourselves separate from our contemporaries, not to shun those who we see as different, not to keep ourselves and the traditions we hold dear pure.

We cannot be compromised by our embracing the world of today – that is what God calls us to do.

And if we do that from a place of love, with hearts full of compassion, if we practice openness and hospitality, we do not lose – but gain through.

We are called to be not so much gatekeepers as inn keepers.

Not keeping folks out but drawing people in.

Welcoming people who may not be used to our rituals, whose hands may not be as clean as we’d like but who, along with us, God calls beloved children.

Fighting giants

1 Samuel 17 v 32-49

³²David said to Saul, “Let no one’s heart fail because of him; your servant will go and fight with this Philistine.” ³³Saul said to David, “You are not able to go against this Philistine to fight with him; for you are just a boy, and he has been a warrior from his youth.” ³⁴But David said to Saul, “Your servant used to keep sheep for his father; and whenever a lion or a bear came, and took a lamb from the flock, ³⁵I went after it and struck it down, rescuing the lamb from its mouth; and if it turned against me, I would catch it by the jaw, strike it down, and kill it. ³⁶Your servant has killed both lions and bears; and this uncircumcised Philistine shall be like one of them, since he has defied the armies of the living God.” ³⁷David said, “The Lord, who saved me from the paw of the lion and from the paw of the bear, will save me from the hand of this Philistine.” So Saul said to David, “Go, and may the Lord be with you!” ³⁸Saul clothed David with his armor; he put a bronze helmet on his head and clothed him with a coat of mail. ³⁹David strapped Saul’s sword over the armor, and he tried in vain to walk, for he was not used to them. Then David said to Saul, “I cannot walk with these; for I am not used to them.” So David removed them.

⁴⁰Then he took his staff in his hand, and chose five smooth stones from the wadi, and put them in his shepherd’s bag, in the pouch; his sling was in his hand, and he drew near to the Philistine. ⁴¹The Philistine came on and drew near to David, with his shield-bearer in front of him. ⁴²When the Philistine looked and saw David, he disdained him, for he was only a youth, ruddy and handsome in appearance. ⁴³The Philistine said to David, “Am I a dog, that you come to me with sticks?” And the Philistine cursed David by his gods. ⁴⁴The Philistine said to David, “Come to me, and I will give your flesh to the birds of the air and to the wild animals of the field.” ⁴⁵But David said to the Philistine, “You come to me with sword and spear and javelin; but I come to you in the name of the Lord of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied. ⁴⁶This very day the Lord will deliver you into my hand, and I will strike you down and cut off your head; and I will give the dead bodies of the Philistine army this very day to the birds of the air and to the wild animals of the earth, so that all the earth may know that there is a God in Israel, ⁴⁷and that all this assembly may know that the Lord does not save by sword and spear; for the battle is the Lord’s and he will give you into our hand.”

⁴⁸When the Philistine drew nearer to meet David, David ran quickly toward the battle line to meet the Philistine. ⁴⁹David put his hand in his bag, took out a stone, slung it, and struck the Philistine on his forehead; the stone sank into his forehead, and he fell face down on the ground.

Last weekend I was involved in a National Assessment Conference. assessing applicants for Church of Scotland Ministry – some of you might have heard of Selection Schools as they used to be called – an extended interview process designed to test God’s call.

This is some of the most intense work I have undertaken – but also some of the most fulfilling.

Being able to affirm the call of God on someone’s life, being part of that incredible process of discernment is amazing.

David, as a youngster, had the call of God on his life affirmed by the prophet Samuel and was anointed king while Saul, whom he would succeed, still reigned.

Today, we read a story from David’s life, while he continued to tend sheep, when he stepped up to act with faith and courage.

Its hard to place this account in the time frame of David’s story – was he still a shepherd or was he serving in the royal court?

Like many of these inconsistencies in biblical narrative, though, the historical accuracy is not essential to allowing us to discover the challenges that the story raises for us.

Not so long ago, every child, whether in church or not, would have known the story of David and Goliath – it’s just one of those Bible stories that has captured folks imaginations and, though bloody and violent, was told to children – perhaps something to which many of you can testify.

And, while we might lament that, nowadays, few youngsters get to know these old stories, it does rescue them from the sanitizing effect that familiarity has on them.

So let’s take some time this morning to wrest this story from the recesses of memory and take a fresh look at it – from the perspective of those portrayed, the main characters’ perspectives: David, Goliath, King Saul:

A man like Goliath would have had few options in life, being born a freak, a giant, whose only prospect was to be adopted by some army so that he could use his size and strength to bring victory. Far from the bully as he is portrayed, he was a man forced into a stereotypical role.

Saul, the king, knew that his days were numbered. Although he had been chosen as the king that the people had implored God to provide, and though the early days of his reign are peppered with stories of God’s blessing bringing about victory for king Saul, he had fallen out of favour with God. And, more, he knew that God’s spirit had already been withdrawn – that God had already chosen a new king to succeed him. In this story, he comes a cross as a bit pathetic, mirroring all that was going on for him as king.

David, the unlikely hero of this story, a shepherd boy who knew that God had other plans for him.

As he tried on the armour given to him before discarding it, surely he had second thoughts.

Could God really be on his side?

And that very question opens up a whole other line of enquiry, of debate and discussion: What is the nature of the God being portrayed in this story?

Are we to believe that God discards people or withholds blessing?

Does God abandon some and take the side of others?

I don’t remember any of these questions being raised far less discussed in Sunday School.

Maybe just as well.

But many of us have not grappled with such questions since.

We prefer the simplicity of the faith of our childhood.

Today, we have the opportunity to open our hearts afresh to this story – to wrestle with the discomfort it might stir in us and be encouraged to see God as the God of opportunities, the God who continues to challenge us and enable us to live courageously today.

One of the reasons that David was so bold while the king’s armed forces were paralysed by fear is that David had experienced the power of God in helping overcome difficult situations. David had faith that this was just one more situation that God would see him through.

David also refused to listen to the voices around him – the voices that mocked and ridiculed him, the voices that sought to dissuade him from his seeming stupidity on taking on such a huge adversary.

How often are we put off doing what we know is right, because of the negativity and discouragement of those around us.

And how often are we the ones who are offering that discouragement, derailing others from deeds of courage, preventing others from being adventurous, distracting them from stepping out in faith?

David, far from seeing Goliath as too big to fight saw him instead as too big to miss.

Sometimes, perspective makes all the difference.

And we don’t find alternative perspective in the most obvious places, so we discard the opportunity to look at things differently.

Today, this story, a story dredged from many of our childhoods, calls us to re-evaluate the faithfulness of God.

A faithfulness that prompts us to be courageous.

A faithfulness that prompts us to disregard the negative murmuring around us, to see things differently and to be assured that, through God, we can overcome unlikely odds.

A faithfulness that calls on us NOT to be the negative forces but to see in the most unlikely places the possibilities of God.

God is not contained by our limited perspective.

The disturbing message of God can not be cleaned up to make it more palatable.

The good news is scandalous.

May we be open to ridicule as we become brave in responding to God’s call in our lives.

May we see with God’s eyes the amazing possibilities that God holds out today.

And may we know that there is no obstacle that cannot be overcome by faith.

The voice of God

A reflection on Psalm 29

Strumming across the rainbow

with crescendo and diminuendo

as the colours fade in and out.

Rippling through the treetops

with trills and turns

as the leaves catch the rhythm

swaying in and out of the stave

or floating untethered on the wind,

freestyle, unfettered by rules and forms.

God’s voice refuses to be pinned down

but weaves around us

in beauty and majesty,

in oceans of calm,

in tempest and storm

lulling us into pausing,

ensuring our rapt attention

before compelling us to act

in response to words of wisdom

so beautifully spoken.

Compelled to take up the cry

for justice and sharing,

compelled to act until all God’s children

hear the voice of God

as wonderfully loving and affirming

and splendid as creation.