The Call: Us (Sermon on Mark 16:1-8 for 11/24/13)

Mark 16:1-8

  16 When the Sabbath was past, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices, so that they might go and anoint him. 2 And very early on the first day of the week, when the sun had risen, they went to the tomb. 3 And they were saying to one another, “Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance of the tomb?” 4 And looking up, they saw that the stone had been rolled back—it was very large.
  5 And entering the tomb, they saw a young man sitting on the right side, dressed in a white robe, and they were alarmed. 6 And he said to them, “Do not be alarmed. You seek Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has risen; he is not here. See the place where they laid him. 7 But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going before you to Galilee. There you will see him, just as he told you.” 8 And they went out and fled from the tomb, for trembling and astonishment had seized them, and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.

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Did you ever read those ‘C hoose-Your-Own-End’ books?  I was into them for a while as a kid.  It was pretty exciting at the time, having control over how books ended.  Then I realized that it was just frustrating.  At the end of every chapter, I’d read the next chapter for both alternatives so I could know which one was best, except in some cases that ended up being the worst, so I’d have to backtrack and start all over.  In other words, I was trying to cheat, and that made it pretty frustrating. 

In a sense, the Gospel of Mark is somewhat similar to those types of books.  The Gospel ends rather abruptly—the women, seized by terror and amazement, run from the empty tomb of Jesus Christ, saying nothing to anyone.  If this were truly the end of the story, we’d be in big trouble, because the women were the only ones who witnessed the empty tomb.  If they had actually said nothing, this resurrection account would be lost.

Fortunately, they did say something.  They did tell the story, but Mark doesn’t include that part.  Mark leaves it blank for us to fill in the details.  Mark leaves the women as terrified and amazed, running from the angelic instructions to tell the story.

I think Mark does this on purpose.  I think Mark leaves the remainder of the story blank as an invitation to us—this is where we join in.  We’re all standing before the empty tomb, and we’re all amazed at what God has done.  Will we go and tell the story, or will we run from our own call?  Each of us has received instructions—how will we answer the call?

 Each and every one of us is called.  We spent the last two weeks studying specific call stories in the Gospel.  We talked about how Levi, Simon, Andrew, James & John were called to follow Christ.  Their lives were forever changed, and they saw the world differently.  Everything they did from this point forward was affected by their call to discipleship.

In the same way, we are called to live differently because of our call.  It should absolutely color our lives.  What we need to do, however, is recognize that our stories may not look the same as the ones in the Bible do.  The question is what Jesus would have us do.  That’s why this particular Gospel story is so relevant—we’re called to write our own ending to the invitation of the angel.

It’s easy to think of big, dramatic examples of ways individuals live out the Gospel.  We can look at Mother Teresa, making her home in the midst of the most dramatic slums in India, spending her life caring for the poor and sick.  We can think of Pope Francis, who seems to be remaking how everything in the Vatican is done, shunning opulence and choosing simplicity and service.  These examples spring to mind readily.

But I don’t know how helpful they are to us today.  Let’s be honest—most of us aren’t called to leave behind family and friends and go live in the slums.  While we can take short-term mission trips to places like Haiti and Honduras, we aren’t going to move there on a permanent basis.  Yet, we are still called.  Christ still wants us to live out the Gospel story here and now.  So what does that look like?

Well, I think it has everything to do with our habits.

I recently finished reading a fascinating book called ‘The Power of Habit’.  It’s a glimpse into human behavior, focusing on how humans are really an assembly of habits.  Everything we do is governed by habits—from our morning rituals to the way we interact with others.  We’re creatures of our habits.

But the good news is that habits can be changed.  We don’t have to always live the same way—we can alter our habits and live the abundant life Christ has in store for us.

I believe that is starts with small actions.  These small actions shape the kind of people that we become.  When we are habitually looking for small ways to serve, these small actions are woven together into a tapestry of a life that shows what the Gospel looks like, what it looks like for us to live into a call.  We start small, and it becomes a way of life, where we are constantly looking for ways to live the story, ways to tell the story.

Take, for example, the generosity shown by the visitors to Heavenly Donuts in Amesbury, Massachusetts.  You all have heard of the idea of paying it forward, where you pay for the car or person behind you in line, showing unexpected generosity?  On one morning, 55 consecutive cars paid for the order of the person behind them.  I know what you’re thinking—we all instantly judged the 56^th person in line.  The good news is they did not hear the good news that their meal was free and drive off.  There just wasn’t another person in line behind them. 

But it’s small actions like this that create habits within us.  They get us looking for opportunities to serve.  They begin to open our eyes to see God’s kingdom at work around us.  They tune our hearts and minds to think in certain ways so that we look for opportunities to tell the story of God’s grace.

It’s like what we do with $.02/meal.  Now, setting aside two pennies each time you eat a meal isn’t a very big thing, is it?  It doesn’t feel like a massive investment in God’s kingdom.  It feels pretty small in the face of everything that is going on in the world.

But those two pennies come together to feed hungry kids in East Brainerd.  Those kids will know that a church cares enough about them to make it a point to offer food to them.  They’ll know that the love of Christ has a real impact in our hearts and their lives.  They have food to eat on the weekends because the church’s habit is to look for ways to serve. 

Now, I’m not for a moment suggesting that we content ourselves with little things.  But we need to start there.  We need to become the type of people who are constantly looking for ways to live into our call, where we tell the story and live out the story.  Our call is comprehensive—Christ has claimed all of life, and we are to offer all of our life back to Christ.

Now, there is a rhythm within this text, and I’d like to explore it a little, because I believe that it has something to teach us.

First of all, notice that the women wait until after the Sabbath to go and prepare Jesus’ body.  Their time with God is their first priority—before they go and serve others, they must ensure that they are properly spiritually prepared.  If we are to live a life of service, we have to ensure that our relationship with Christ comes first, that we’re serving out of hearts focused on Him.  May we wisely prepare ourselves to live into our call.  15 minutes a day, in a chair, with a Bible.  Simple & straightforward.

Next, the women prepared themselves.  They bought their spices and went to the tomb.  But, we know that they weren’t completely prepared.  They weren’t sure how to overcome the obstacle of the stone in front of the tomb.  We don’t know what they would have done if the stone wasn’t rolled away—but we don’t have to.  They couldn’t prepare for everything.

In the same way, we need to be prepared to serve.  We need to know ourselves, and we need to be ready to serve.  We need to look around us, to pay attention to what God is doing, but we don’t know exactly how everything is going to work out.  Some people will reject our proclamation.  Other things will surprise us.  We aren’t in control.  We have to leave room for God to act.  Make way for the Holy Spirit.

After this, the women are amazed by the resurrection news they receive.  They are stunned by what God has done.  And Jesus goes ahead of them, leading them into the future.

In the same way, Jesus leads us forward.  We follow him into the world, ready to serve, ready to proclaim, ready to announce the Good News of what God has done.  This isn’t about us—it’s about us being selfless, about proclaiming Christ’s story, about inviting others into the amazing news of resurrection.

May we cultivate small habits that lead to big changes in our lives, and may we live into Christ’s call on our lives.

Let us pray

The Call: Levi (Sermon for 11/17/2013) Mark 2:13-17

We focus today on the call of Levi, also known as Matthew.  Now, before we delve into this story, it’s important to say a few things about Levi’s chosen profession.  Levi was a tax collector.  To you and I, this doesn’t sound entirely objectionable.  While we all make occasional jokes about the IRS and do not enjoy giving them large sums of money, I don’t think we harbor grievances against all those who work there.

Ancient Jerusalem worked a little differently.  See, Rome was reviled as an invading army, but they had the Roman army, so people had to do what Rome said.  Rome also needed to collect taxes, but rather than send people from Rome to Jerusalem, they hired Jews to do this for them.  So any Jew who elected to work for Rome was choosing to be employed by the occupying army.  They were reviled as traitors.  Also, they were given free rein to collect as much as they wanted.  As long as Rome got their cut, they didn’t care how much extra the tax collectors picked up.  So tax collectors were notoriously corrupt, but people had to comply, because the tax collectors had the Roman army at their beck and call.  No one liked tax collectors.

It’s important to understand this.  In our story today, tax collectors even get their own special category.  They’re not just ‘sinners’, like everyone else—the sinners don’t look so bad when compared to tax collectors.  No one of good repute would be associated with tax collectors.  They’d probably cross the street if they saw one coming.  When people thought of the Kingdom of God, they may have had some questions, but I’m sure they didn’t expect tax collectors to be associated.

With that knowledge tucked in the back of our minds, let’s dive into Mark 2:13-17.

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Mark 2:13-17

13 He went out again beside the sea, and all the crowd was coming to him, and he was teaching them. 14 And as he passed by, he saw Levi the son of Alphaeus sitting at the tax booth, and he said to him, “Follow me.” And he rose and followed him.

15 And as he reclined at table in his house, many tax collectors and sinners were reclining with Jesus and his disciples, for there were many who followed him. 16 And the scribes of the Pharisees, when they saw that he was eating with sinners and tax collectors, said to his disciples, “Why does he eat with tax collectors and sinners?” 17 And when Jesus heard it, he said to them, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.”

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How many of you passed a fast food restaurant on the way here?  How many did you pass?  Did you pay attention?  Or did you notice the billboards that line Shallowford Road? 

I imagine you saw them—they’re hard to miss.  But the question is how much attention did you pay to them?  We’ve all seen them so many times that we don’t pay much attention to them.  They’re like commercials on television—your brain is so accustomed to being shouted at that it turns down the attention whenever they come on.  We see, but we don’t really see.

Now, this isn’t too much of a problem for us.  It’s not like we’re missing anything.  But the problem results when we start to act this way around people.  It’s easy to do—we pass by so many people in a given day that we can’t possibly spend in depth time with all of them.  Also, we’re often so wrapped up in our own lives and busy-ness that we don’t really pay attention to them.  Anymore most people you see have their faces buried in some sort of device anyway.

It’s easy to pass by people without truly seeing them.  We don’t notice when their faces are contorted by grief, or when their souls are heavy with troubles.  We don’t see them when they are consumed by joy or want to share some good news.  We’re so wrapped up in ourselves that we fail to see people.

Jesus, however, didn’t have this problem.  He saw people, and when he looked he saw more than just a human shape.  He instantly was able to see their needs and desires, to recognize them as the individual child of God that they are, to treasure and celebrate them.  So in an age when most people would have passed by the tax collector with little more than a sneer, Jesus saw Levi, and he went to him.

Now, this is all relatively simple narrative, but it’s so important for us to notice the little things.  Jesus went to Levi.  He didn’t wait for Levi to recognize who he was and then come to Jesus.  He didn’t sit back and hope that Levi got it all sorted out so that he could approach the throne of grace.  Levi, in the midst of his tax collecting, was approached by Jesus.

In the same way, Jesus comes to us.  He sees us for who we truly are, sons and daughters of God, and he comes to us.  He notices each and every one of us, and he approaches us.  He doesn’t coldly sit back and hope we sort it all out—he reaches out in love to us.  He initiates our life of faith and beckons us into the waters of discipleship.  He invites.  We, like the tax collector, may be in the midst of sin, but Jesus still comes to us.  We don’t have to be perfect or ready for the call—we just have to be willing to hear it.

So Jesus comes to us, just as he came to Levi, and invites him to follow.

Levi, we read, gets up and follows.  Just like that.  His life is disrupted.

Here we see the disruptive love of Jesus Christ at work.  When Christ calls us, he doesn’t call us to stay the same.  He doesn’t just add to what we have—we are transformed, waken from some half-slumber and bid to walk in the light, to experience the abundant life of which our souls have always dreamed, often unconsciously.  We are called from death into life, and it is disruptive.  The sins which we have been carrying for so long are called to be left behind.  The patterns of living for ourselves are set down.  Old habits that no longer fit are shed so that new life can be put on.  The love of Christ is disruptive, jostling us, transforming us, and when we rise to follow, we are never the same.

Notice, though, that all is not left behind.  As we discussed last week with Jesus and the fishermen, Jesus wanders into our lives and transforms what is there.  In the same way, Jesus wandered into Levi’s life and changed what was already present.  When Jesus called Levi and Levi responded with obedience, we often assume that Levi never returned to his familiar surroundings.  Instead, we see here that Jesus is now dining in Levi’s home with all of Levi’s friends.  Jesus knocks on the door and comes in, sits down and makes himself comfortable.  Jesus longs to have an intimate relationship with us, to know us at our deepest level, to sit down at table and dine with us.  Jesus calls Levi and ends up in Levi’s house, surrounded by his friends, and the table conversation is surely transformed by the presence of Christ.  What might have been sinful conversation is now centered around Christ, and surely more than one of Levi’s friends comes to understand just who the Messiah is.

Now, if it were you or I, we might be afraid to wander into a house like Levi’s.  Surely, our reputations would be on the line.  We might be afraid to be seen with someone like Levi.  We might be nervous about what other people might think.  We wouldn’t want our spotless image to be tarnished, right?

Jesus isn’t concerned about that.  He is willing to engage with all, regardless of what their previous choices might have been.  He doesn’t worry what others might think—he sees people for who they are, and he sees their need.  He recognizes that within the brokenness we have created is a person, made in the image of God, precious in God’s sight.  To that person, he goes.

We, too, are called to go and love.  We can’t be so worried about what the world thinks.  We can’t be so caught up in believing that our reputations are more important than loving others.  We can’t let fear prevent us from love.

The scribes and Pharisees see Jesus eating with these sinners, and they can’t believe that the Messiah would act in such a way.  They believe the Messiah should only be there for those who are living rightly.  They can’t see that all people are in desperate need of a Savior.  They don’t recognize their own need for a Savior.  What they really want is a Savior to show up and congratulate them for saving themselves.  Their pride prevents them from seeing their own sin.

Jesus tells them that he hasn’t come to call the righteous, but sinners.  At first, we may wonder what this means, for it would seem like the righteous should be included, too.  But Jesus understands what is really at the heart of the claim of righteousness.  If we believe we can manufacture our own righteousness, we believe that we are our own saviors.  If we can save ourselves, what need have we of Jesus?

Tax collectors and sinners easily recognize that they cannot save themselves.  They believe they are outside the scope of religion, that their lives are too messed up for any religious figure to care about.  Jesus comes to correct that, to remind them that it was God who crafted them, that it is God who loves them, and that it is God who wants to save them.  Sinners are wise enough to be humble and let Jesus be Lord.  The proud want to be their own Lords.

So what will it be for you?  Will you accept Christ as Lord, and recognize that you cannot save yourself?  Will you be wise enough to be humble, to accept the love of God that does what we cannot?

If we are willing to be this humble, we then understand that we are led forth in humility.  Once we see ourselves as sinners who need to be saved, we are then able to understand our position as servants of others.  When we humbly see ourselves as sinful and broken, the brokenness of others is no longer an obstacle.  When we are proud, we look down on the sins of others.  When we are humble, we see ourselves reflected in the sins of others, and we recognize our common humanity, our unity as sinners, and how important it is that we remind each other of the central truth of a Savior who sees us, who comes to us, and who invites us into life everlasting.

Let us pray 

The Call: Simon & Andrew (Sermon for 11/10/13)

Mark 1:16-20 

 16 Passing alongside the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and Andrew the brother of Simon casting a net into the sea, for they were fishermen. 17 And Jesus said to them, “Follow me, and I will make you become fishers of men.” 18 And immediately they left their nets and followed him. 19 And going on a little farther, he saw James the son of Zebedee and John his brother, who were in their boat mending the nets. 20 And immediately he called them, and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired servants and followed him.

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How many of you have ever had a job? I've had several, everything from shoveling horse manure to valeting cars to cleaning pools. I had to pay for my own car insurance as a teenager, and the thought of losing the privilege of driving kept me hard at work.

The only problem with working is that people expect you to do something for the money they're going to pay you, right? Have you ever had a job that consisted entirely of you not working, not showing up, but the paychecks keep on coming? There is a Sherlock Holmes episode which is based entirely around the fact that a man comes to visit Holmes because he can't figure out why he is being well-paid to copy the encyclopedia. It just doesn't make sense.

All jobs require work in order to be paid. Well, at least all the jobs I've done or heard about. Know what happens when you see a sign by the side of the road promising lots of pay for little work? You ignore it, right? You know it's too good to be true. If such things were possible, they wouldn't have to advertise for people to sign up for such jobs—we'd be beating down the door demanding them, right?

There are two parts to a job. One is the pay you receive, the other is the work you put in. To do work without pay is slavery. To receive pay without work is too good to be true, right?

Well, this is what makes the message of the Gospel so astounding. What the Good News tells us is that Jesus Christ suffered on the cross, doing the work of atonement that we did not and could not do. In return, we receive the glory and honor that is due to the eternal Son of God. The righteousness that belongs to him is imparted to us, while the suffering that is due to us is imparted to him. It's absolutely not fair, and we are the benefactors of this arrangement, thanks be to God. We receive eternal life as a free gift.

Now, let me be very, very clear. We are not saved conditionally—we are not saved by God on the assumption or as the result of anything we can or will do. Our life isn't some grand 'trial period' by the end of which we are required to prove ourselves as worthy. If you leave today with the belief that you must prove yourself worthy to God or meet some celestial requirement to enter the kingdom of heaven, then this has all gone terribly wrong.

While I don't believe that we will be 'fired' from the church for not fulfilling perfectly our end of the bargain, I do believe that we fail to experience the fullness of the abundant life Christ promises here on earth when we fall short. Sin interferes with our ability to experience the grace of God.

What I do want to emphasize, though, is that our call has two parts to it. We see that here in Mark 1. When Jesus called the first disciples, Simon and his brother Andrew, it wasn't just a call to 'follow me'. It was first that, but Jesus tells the disciples what will happen if they follow him. Note, he doesn't say, 'follow me and then I'll let you keep following if you do this.” He describes to them what their lives will be like if they choose to follow him.

“Follow me and I will make you fish for people.”

There is the call to follow, and there is a description of the life that follows. The link is made by Jesus Christ – if Simon and Andrew choose to follow Jesus, that will directly affect the lives of others around them. If they so choose to leave their old life behind and be transformed by the grace of God, their future interactions will be so colored by the grace and love of God that nothing will ever be the same.

Rather than be inwardly focused, Jesus tells them that their lives will be focused on other people. They will be an outward-looking group, sharing the awesome good news of God.

Now, the Christian church in America focuses a lot on the promises God makes to individuals, and with good reason. We talk about the unconditional love of God and the grace and strength God gives you that allows us to make it through whatever challenges come our way. We talk about how Christ is light for our darkness and hope for our despair, and these are all vital, vital things. We cannot stop talking about these promises of Christ, about the victory over death that we participate in when we baptize. These are all part of what it means to follow Christ.

But, as the church, perhaps we have not done as good a job in describing the transformation which Christ details in this conversation. Perhaps we have failed in noting that following Christ means that the gifts we already have will be used to help us reach outward, that the rest of our lives are called to be focused on other people, on inviting them into the wonders of a life lived with the recognition of God's gracious and selfless love.

Notice, friends, that Jesus tells the fishermen that they'll fish for people. He affirms the gifts they have and tells them that God will use those same gifts in their future lives of discipleship. In the same way, our calling doesn't mean we leave the old behind—it means that Christ transforms it and promises to use it for his kingdom, rather than just using it to enrich oruselves or for our own little kingdoms. God uses what we have. God gave it to us, after all.

So the call to life in Christ is a call to be transformed, and its a call to look outward, to reach out. To sit comfortably and focused on ourselves doesn't conform to this call. To be still and rest with all of our lives (there is a place for rest, but not always) isn't allowing ourselves to be transformed. We're called to reach out.

Two weekends ago, I was in Haiti. Haiti is a desperate place, filled with desperate poverty. In the poorest slum in Haiti, I witnessed children running around naked because they didn't have clothes. In that same slum, I watched as people baked mud pies, desperate for anything with which to fill their stomachs. There are not words to describe much of Haiti—it must be seen to be understood. It is a poor country, with 80% unemployment, and from far away it would seem that there is little hope. It would be easy to give up on Haiti.

But Haitians have not given up. They believe God is at work in their country, and they are hard at work joining in with what God is doing. The Christian church is alive and well in Haiti, and one individual at a time, they are reaching out. Lives are being transformed, and children are being educated with the hope that they might grow up to be the future leaders of Haiti. There is great hope in Haiti, and many of the Haitians are excited about what God is doing. Many Americans have joined in with God's work in Haiti, partnering with the Haitians to work together to reach out to people. They understand it as their calling. They are following Christ, and he is leading them to reach out to love others.

Friends, following Christ's call to be transformed doesn't mean you have to go to Haiti. There is plenty of work to be done in America, even here in Chattanooga. Around you are some boxes filled with sack packs for hungry kids here in Chattanooga. It may not seem like much, but I promise that the kids who receive these sack packs are excited each week to know that a church in this city loves them enough to reach out, to leave what is easy and comfortable behind and reach out to transform others in simple but profound ways.

There is plenty of work to be done in Chattanooga. There is other work around the world. As a church, I believe we are sent forward, sent out into the world. When Christ calls us, he calls us not only to be transformed but to live for the purpose of others. We are called and sent, and we gather to worship and be strengthened so that we might be sent out to proclaim his glory through word and deed. It's not just about being saved. It's about living into our calling and living out the radical message of God's unconditional love. You have been called. You have been sent.

So may we seek to join in with what God is doing. I believe that God has plans for this church, that we as a body may join together with God's work in the world. Maybe it's sending a team to Haiti. Maybe it's finding more comprehensive mission in Chattanooga that might involve all of us reaching out to the community around us. Maybe it's both. But I believe that we, as a church, are called to reach out, are called to be transformed and to live for the sake of others. God will use what we have—he gave it to us for that purpose. May we live boldly for him, never giving up, always believing that Christ has a next step for us in mind.

Let us pray.