“Into the Teeth of the Storm”

Mark 8:31-38

Max Lucado has written, “As long as Jesus is one of many options, he is no option… as long as you can take him or leave him, you might as well leave him, because he won’t be taken half-heartedly.” Jesus made that very clear when he said, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.”

Jesus said those words immediately after he had rebuked Peter for protesting the need for Jesus to die. Peter thought he was being loving and supportive of his Master. But he wasn’t. He was just one more voice offering Jesus an easy way out, one more tool in the Devil’s bag of tricks. Jesus knew that a cross awaited him in Jerusalem. He was honest about that, just as he was honest about the possible costs of discipleship. Imitating Jesus in a faithful obedience of God the Father can mean suffering and dying. It can involve being thrown to the lions, so to speak, something with which Mark’s earliest readers – persecuted Christians - were very familiar.

While in seminary I took to heart some advice given by the late Swiss theologian Karl Barth. His advice was that just because we find ourselves in the lions’ den doesn’t mean that we have to pull the lions’ tails. My related belief is that just because there is a lions’ den it doesn’t mean that we have to jump into it and provoke the lions simply because we want to be provocative.

A sad example: Soon after I arrived here I received news that a colleague in West Virginia had gotten himself fired because he just had to make a prophetic statement in the local newspaper. He was already on pretty thin ice. His statement was unnecessarily provocative. Besides that it was more pathetic than prophetic. In the aftermath I wrote and shared, belatedly, Karl Barth’s advice with him.

He never wrote back. I guess he felt that I had joined the ranks of his so-called persecutors; that I had driven one more nail into that cross he thought he was carrying for Jesus. Yes, he was in a pickle. Yes, he and his family suffered. Yes, part of the congregation left the church to show how much they loved him. But whatever burden he was carrying, it was not the cross of Christ. His suffering was not an act of faithful discipleship. It was the result of his hard-headed immaturity. He just couldn’t stay away from the lions’ den, and once in it couldn’t resist pulling the lions’ tails.

That, my friends, is an example of what isn’t considered to be a legitimate taking up one’s cross for Jesus. There are times when we must be fools for Christ, but Jesus never asked us to be stupid. The crosses we carry for Christ are never things we go looking for. There is no need for us to throw a rock at the proverbial hornets’ nest. Crosses come to us only because we choose to follow Jesus rather than the gods of this world. We carry them because we will neither worship nor serve those gods. We suffer on them because we have no other choice, at least none without eternal ramifications.

Crosses are the result of faithfulness. Illnesses and disabilities are not crosses. Alcoholic or abusive spouses are not crosses. Such things are simply horrible realities that can happen to anybody. Non-believers get sick. The un-churched have life threatening accidents. Atheists marry alcoholics. Agnostics have abusive spouses and rebellious children. Such things are simply part and parcel of being human. As Christians we are not immune to such things. Stuff happens, and it happens to us all. The rain truly falls on the just and the unjust.

There are also hardships that we bring upon ourselves. Sometimes we must suffer the consequences of our own sinfulness. Rob a bank, get caught, and end up in jail – that’s painful. It is not a cross. Have an affair, destroy your marriage, and lose your ordination – that is painful and tragic. It is not a cross.

Several years ago a long-time friend of mine did just that. His response in the aftermath of his stupidity? He went on and on about how his wife hadn’t really loved him and how the wider church had never appreciated his talents or rewarded him for his supposed sacrifices, about the cross he thought he was carrying.

We’re not friends anymore, probably because as much as I loved him and tried to help him, he never thought that I was sympathetic enough in response to how much suffering the church had inflicted on him. He thought I was judgmental for gently pointing out his lack of accountability and penitence. One day he hung up on me and never called me back. He has subsequently refused to answer my calls, notes, and e-mails. In his mind I’m sure that he thinks, that just because I refused to agree that his self-inflicted wounds were a cross he was carrying for Jesus, I had abandoned him in his time of need.

Please hear me. I was not and am not being self-righteous or even judgmental. I’ve done my share of stupid things. I bear the scars of some self-inflicted wounds. But my self-inflicted wounds are not to be confused with suffering for Jesus. Not for a minute can they be equated with a cross. Crosses are the price we pay for righteousness. They are not the pains we bring into our lives by way of our own sinfulness.

Moving on: Jesus never whined. Jesus never felt sorry for himself. Jesus took responsibility for his own actions. Jesus never accused others, not even his Father, of forcing him to do something against his will. He never portrayed himself as a victim. He never thought of himself as a martyr. He very clearly identified himself with the Suffering Servant of Isaiah 53: “He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth. By a perversion of justice he was taken away.”

The world and the Devil had given him other options, options that were quite tempting. He could have been the king of Israel or the ruler of a world-wide empire. He could have been a general or powerful politician. He could have joined the Zealots in driving the Romans from his native soil. He could have been a benevolent dictator, supplying his loyal followers with bread and circuses. He could have remained in Nazareth, staying close to his family and making a good living as a carpenter. He could have married and had children. He could have become a respected rabbinical scholar.

All of that and more were offered to him in the wilderness. All of that and more were implied in Peter’s protests. That’s why he responded so harshly to Peter, why he said, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things. You’re suggesting that I cut my mission short and settle for something less than what God intends for me. You’re trying to impede my walk in the way of the cross. You’re selling God short, selling me out, and selling your spiritual birthright for a mess of pottage. Please, don’t do that.”

For Jesus there was no turning back – no detour – no easier option. A storm was brewing in Jerusalem. He could not bypass it. He had to go through it. He had to walk right into the very teeth of it. Come hell or high water, and both were surely coming, he had to keep his appointment with a cross.

And that’s what he did. He walked right into that proverbial lions’ den that was Jerusalem. In the midst of that den he kept proclaiming the truth of God that so many did not want to hear. None of that was meant to aggravate or stir up the lions. He in no way purposefully provoked them. He did what he did and said what he said because that was what God had called him to do and say. If that riled up the lions, so be it. They were looking for a reason to kill him, even if they had to make one up; which is exactly what they did.

And still do. To faithfully follow Jesus in the way of the cross is to be willing to walk into the teeth of whatever storm toward which God directs us. To faithfully follow Jesus in the way of the cross is to adopt a lifestyle of humility, servanthood, and self-denial.

It is not about playing that poor-pitiful-little-me game of pseudo-martyrdom. We all know how it goes. “I’m so unappreciated for all I do for the church. Why doesn’t anybody ever publicly recognize me for my multitude of gifts and talents? I give so much and ask so little. Nobody cares about me: blah, blah, blah; whine, whine, whine.”

I hate to admit it but I resemble that remark. Sometimes we all do. This Lent let’s stop complaining about make-believe crosses – our pseudo-martyrdoms – and get serious about preparing ourselves for the day when the cross we are called to carry will be real. Amen.