Mark 8:27-38
How do you enter a swimming pool? Are you the kind of
person who runs across the cement and then does a cannonball into the water? Do
you gather up floaties and rafts and nervously balance on top of inflatables,
occasionally letting a toe dip in? Maybe you are a side sitter, kicking your
legs in the water and participating in the fun while staying half dry? Maybe
you are like my kids, hurriedly getting on sunscreen and then rushing down the
pool stairs and squealing in freezing delight before pushing off the side. Or
maybe you are like me, I like to gradually work my way in, letting my legs
adjust and slowly getting deeper while repeatedly telling my kids to stop
splashing until finally I just jump in and take off swimming. No matter how you
enter, there’s really no getting around the discomfort of that transition,
especially if the water is very cold. Whether you do it in one moment or extend
it gradually, it’s a shock to the system as your body moves from the warm air
that it knows to the cold water that is unfamiliar. A transition that often
leaves us with a confusing mix of gasping for air, chattering teeth and big
smile. It can be exhilarating, uncomfortable, invigorating … maybe even painful.
Painful
maybe the word to describe the way it feels right now to be thinking of summer
swim days while the leaves are changing and school is back in session. Whether it’s diving into a pool or a new
season of life or a new school routine … it can be a shock to the system, one
that we are reluctant to jump in to.
In
the Gospel reading today, Jesus offers a shock to the system … and the
disciples aren’t thrilled. Today’s passage is not a “come to me all who are
weary and I will give you rest” kind of thing … it’s more of a “go grab two
pieces of wood used for torture and carry them” kind of thing.
It starts off with a win for the disciples. Jesus asks them
who they say he is and Peter gets it right. Peter says “You are the Messiah.”
He gets it, Peter is the star student, understanding that Jesus is the one sent
by God, after all of Jesus’s teaching and preaching, it’s exciting for a
disciple to show that he understands, and a bold statement about who Jesus is.
But before he can put the gold sticker on his chest, Jesus presses further.
Jesus starts talking about the really hard stuff. About how he has to suffer
and die. And that’s when Peter has had enough and so he rebukes Jesus and goes
from a gold star to being called Satan. Jesus is serious, and it’s time for the
disciples and anyone who wants to follow him, to get serious too.
He
says to the disciples and the crowd “if any want to become my followers, let
them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” It’s hard for us
today to understand the impact of this statement. When we hear “cross” we think
of the shiny gold crosses we wear around our necks or the beautifully raised
crosses in our worship spaces, but for those first listeners, a cross meant
agony, suffering, embarrassment and shame for one’s family. These were not
words taken lightly … this is deep end stuff.
In
his commentary on this passage, NT Wright says, “Following Jesus is, more or
less, Mark’s definition of what being a Christian means; and Jesus is not
leading us on a pleasant afternoon hike, but on a walk into danger and risk. Or
did we suppose that the kingdom of God would mean merely a few minor adjustments
in our ordinary lives?” In other words, Jesus is calling us to dive all the way
in. He is calling his followers to give him not just a polite nod, but their
whole hearts.
I
have been serving as a hospital chaplain at Samaritan Hospital and in that
role, I spend a lot of time with people who are at a crossroads of some kind- maybe
they are contemplating a major change in how they take care of their health, or
preparing for a life of sobriety, or realizing they need to change unhealthy
lifestyles or relationships. I see them when they are dipping their toes in the
water, considering diving in to a new way of living, but nervous about the hard
work of change. Some are ready to dive right in, some aren’t so sure and some
are only ready to make small changes. As an outsider, listening to their story,
I can see that on the other side of the hard transition is freedom and peace. I
can see that they are held down by the chains of addiction, self-hatred, or
unhealthy relationships. And I am rooting for them, hoping they will make those
hard changes and find the peace on the other side. But trust, faith and change
are scary … for all of us. Sometimes we would rather stay in captivity than
risk our comfort and predictability for freedom.
But
Jesus calls us to the way of freedom. Jesus calls us to live for God, to live a
life of salvation, a life focused on love and forgiveness, to walk the path of
the cross. In his commentary on this passage, Douglas Hare says, “It is not
enough to confess Jesus as Messiah and Lord. He must be acknowledged as
suffering and crucified Lord, and this acknowledgement must not be one of
theory but of practice. To confess Jesus truly means to walk the way of the
cross in one’s daily life.” Jesus is calling for our whole selves, for our
willingness to dive in, our willingness to cling to the cross even when life is
difficult, even when we are tempted by those, who like Peter, want us to find
an easier way. Jesus is calling us to follow him, and he is headed to the cross.
We
are called to resist the ways of the world that tell us to live for wealth,
comfort, ease and popularity. To resist the quick fixes and escapes that get us
through a moment but leave us empty a moment later. To resist self-protection
and instead embrace an eternal love. To a life of faith. A life lived knowing
that we are loved and because we are loved we can love ourselves and others. A
life lived on thy will be done, knowing that hard times will come, but as we
journey together with Christ we are not alone.
When
we enter this Christian life we do so through the waters of baptism. Many of us
were baptized as babies but over and over again in life we are given new
opportunities to live into those waters, to embrace our faith or resist it, to
remember our baptism or to attempt to wipe it away. Sometimes the waters of
baptism, the way of faith, a commitment to Christ is like cool water on a
thirsty tongue and we run toward it, sometimes it’s more like a cold swimming pool
that we approach with hesitation- some dive in, some dip a toe in, some wade in
gradually and some watch from the side- but the thing about swimming is, once
you are in, suddenly it’s the outside air that feels harsher. Your body quickly
acclimates to the water and soon you dread the smack of cold air that comes
when you get out. That’s the thing about life, the truly good stuff, the
lasting memories, the deep relationships, the life-changing healing, always
seems to come on the other side of those tough transitions, the ones we dread,
the ones we put off, the ones we fear. When Jesus told the crowd that in order
to follow him they have to take up their cross, it must have seemed utterly
impossible, like the most terrifying thing you could think of. But once we
embrace the love of God and the path of Christ, it can be difficult to imagine
life without it.
And
so we embark on this journey together, as those marked with the waters of
baptism. We do our best to love others as Christ does, to devote our hearts to
God and live in peace, and we are human, so sometimes, like Peter, we go off
course, we cling to what we know, we grasp tightly to what seems easier, but
still Christ calls us, over and over again- to a love that is eternal and never
goes away- like the cool embrace of water on a hot summer day, wrapping around
us and embracing us as we journey ahead.
