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Every
year in the springtime a familiar ritual is repeated. Hundreds of grown men
who have played baseball all their lives head to warmer climates in Florida
and Arizona to practice the fundamentals of baseball for about six weeks.
Men who grew up with a bat and glove have instructors who teach them again
how to bat, throw, pitch, and field the ball. Day after day, for weeks on
end, these men who get paid millions of dollars to play the game of baseball
go back to the basics. Hitting, fielding, running the bases—all the
things that would seem like second nature to the players get their renewed
attention. Every phase of the game is studied all over again. To some folks,
spring training seems like a waste of time. If they’ve played baseball
all their lives, why don’t they just take to the field, have someone
sing the National Anthem, have the umpire yell, “Play ball!” and
get started? Why spring training every year? If you ask the players why they
head to spring training every year they’ll assure you it’s not
because they’ve forgotten what to do. It’s so they’ll get
better at what baseball players do. It’s a return to the basics to get
them ready for the long season ahead; so they’ll be prepared; so they’ll
be able to give their best at what they’ve devoted their lives to doing.
In
the Church, every year as spring approaches we begin the Lenten journey again.
Not because we are novices and must be taught the basics for the first time.
But because whoever we are, these are the basics that will sustain us for
the long season ahead. These are the same fundamentals we rehearse year after
year, for they are what make us strong and prepared for the rigorous days
to come.
For
this Lenten season, we’ll be looking at familiar texts—ones the
Church has turned to again and again—and for much the same reason. Namely,
that these texts mold us, shape us, and train us. We’ll consider some
very familiar passages that deal with Jesus’ baptism and temptation
in the wilderness, His call to take up our cross and follow Him, and the familiar
words of John 3:16, among others. As preachers we sometimes avoid these most
familiar texts out of fear, or fear of repetition. After all, how can we possibly
preach a fresh word from these passages that “everyone” already
knows? So, like the restaurant that “nobody goes to anymore because
they’re always so busy,” familiar texts often never get heard
because we think they’ve been heard so much. The Lenten season gives
us the challenge and the opportunity to cover some familiar ground.
All
of our texts will be from the New Testament, except for the third Sunday in
Lent, when we will focus on the Old Testament lection: Exodus 20—the
Ten Commandments. All of the texts will be drawn from the lectionary except
for the sixth Sunday in Lent. That Sunday often presents a challenge to preachers.
Do we approach it as Palm Sunday (the “triumphal entry”), or Passion
Sunday (the crucifixion)? In congregations that hold Holy Week services, particularly
Good Friday services, the worshipping community has a worship setting where
their attention is focused on the death of Christ. In those settings, it seems
fitting to make the sixth Sunday in Lent Palm Sunday. But recognizing that
many churches will not have Holy Week services, I have paired two texts for
the sixth Sunday in Lent that focus on the Cross. Given the vast amount of
material the Gospels give us to work with during that last week of Jesus’
life before the crucifixion, it hardly seems right to show up on Easter Sunday
morning, celebrating the resurrection, without having spent sufficient time
wrestling with the rejection, suffering, and death of Christ. That message
confronts us in the second Sunday in Lent (Mark 8:31-38), and it’s one
we never get completely away from throughout the rest of the season.
May
God’s grace guide us through this sacred season as we prepare our lives
and our worshipping communities to hear God’s Word anew.
This
passage rests between the groundwork laid in 1:1-8, and the call to “follow
me” that Jesus will issue in 1:17. Neither of those are our immediate
focus here, but both inform our understanding of Mark 1:9-15.
“This
is about Jesus,” Mark begins his Gospel, “but first, a word about
John the Baptist.” Isaiah and Malachi are quoted to set the stage for
John the Baptist, and then Mark describes John’s ministry. John preaches
a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins (1:4), and large numbers
of people come to him, confess, and are baptized (1:5). John makes it clear
that someone “more powerful” than he is coming (1:7).
This
sets the stage for the first three episodes in Jesus’ life in 1:9-15.
With a remarkable economy of words, Mark tells of the baptism, temptation,
and initial message of Jesus in just seven verses.
The
scenes Mark narrates for us have parallels in the other Gospels, but we must
resist the temptation to let the other gospel accounts drown out Mark’s
voice. Mark’s telling of the story is briefer. He has selected certain
events from Jesus’ life to narrate, and he has ordered them in such
a way as to communicate the story he wishes to tell most effectively. If we
will allow Mark’s distinctive voice to be heard, the text can perform
as Mark intended. So what is distinctive about Mark’s telling of the
story?
In
the baptism, there is none of the dialogue between Jesus and John that Matthew
records. When the dove/Spirit descends on Jesus, and the voice sounds from
heaven declaring Jesus to be the Son of God, Mark tells it in a way that leaves
the distinct impression that only Jesus saw and heard those events.
In
the temptation scene, Mark does not elaborate on what the temptations were,
as Matthew and Luke do. (John does not include the temptation scene.)
While
Matthew and Luke both mention the arrest of John the Baptist before Jesus
begins preaching, the brevity of Mark’s account makes the contrast more
vivid: the exertion of the power of Herod’s kingdom against the proclamation
that the kingdom of God has come near. Mark has used John the Baptist to set
the stage for Jesus, and then quickly moves him offstage. (In Mark 6:14-29
we will hear the rest of the story about John the Baptist.)
Within
these seven brief verses, several words will catch our attention. A good place
to start is with geographical references. As in our day, so in the time of
Mark’s Gospel: names of places often have a cluster of meanings associated
with them, whose full significance will never be known simply by pinpointing
their location on a map. In our time, think of places like Crawford, Texas;
the World Trade Center in New York City; Baghdad, Iraq; Kansas City, etc.
In the text, be alert to Judea, Jerusalem, the Jordan River, Nazareth, and
Galilee. In both cases, the reference to a place may not generate a uniform
reaction, but it will evoke more response than a simple geography lesson.
The places mentioned have layers of meaning to the listeners.
Further,
the reference to the wilderness/desert is rich with meaning, as well as the
reference to the 40 days, which will raise a cluster of references to significant
events of either 40 days’ or 40 years’ duration (Noah, Moses,
and Elijah, for starters.)
Several
other words will merit notice, at least in passing. When Mark recounts the
Spirit’s descent at the baptism of Jesus (1:10) he uses the word scizome¢nouVé
(the heavens were torn open) that echoes Isaiah 64:1, “O that you would
tear open the heavens and come down” (NRSV). This will be used again
in his Gospel at 15:38-39, when the veil in the temple is torn from top to
bottom, and the centurion declares, “Surely this man was the Son of
God.”
In
1:12, Mark says the Spirit ecba¢llei Jesus into the wilderness. The NRSV
“drove” probably more accurately catches the force of the action
than the NIV “sent.”
In
1:15, when Jesus announces that “the time has come,” He uses the
word kairoV instead of cro¢noV, meaning of course that He wasn’t
referring to calendar or watch time, but God’s time—the appointed
time.
A
central theme in these three scenes is the question of whom exactly is this
Jesus who has been identified as the Son of God? How does He connect with
us in our humanity if He is God’s divine son? Does that make Him distant
from us, removed from us, unable to relate to us? On a practical level, many
wrestle with the relationship between the divine and human natures of Christ.
If Christ is to be our model, the one after whom we pattern our lives, we
want to know if that is a realistic possibility for us. Can we really be called
to live as Christ lived, or did His divinity so overshadow His humanity that
our pursuit of Christlikeness is just a fanciful notion?
A
related question is that of where we find God at work. With whom does He associate,
and in what manner? Did the Son of God come into the world in sterile garb
that keeps Him pure? Is His purity found in His physical separation from the
uncleanness of the world?
Mark
has neither a birth narrative (as in Matthew and Luke), nor a discourse on
how the “Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us” (John
1:14). Nevertheless, he is able to answer clearly (even emphatically) the
question of how the divine Son of God is able to relate to humanity. Jesus
relates to us fully, in every way, pertaining to our humanity. He was baptized
along with those who came confessing their sins. He was tempted as we are
tempted. He began His ministry impacted by circumstances just as we would
be impacted. Far from being exempt from the troubles of this world, troubled
times were the reference point for the beginning of His ministry: “After
John was put in prison, Jesus went into Galilee [the trouble spot], proclaiming
the good news of God” (1:14). His divinity gives Him no exemption from
temptation or trouble. Neither does He claim a privileged status. He simply
lives a life as a first-century citizen.
What
Mark tells us about Jesus is not just for the sake of information, but it
is preparing us for response. Several responses are possible. Will we respond
in repentance? This Jesus, who is shown to identify fully with our humanity—will
we pattern our life after Him? After all, it’s not just His divinity
we see. It’s His full humanity, His full, Spirit-empowered humanity.
Much of what Mark is doing is challenging our preconceived ideas of Jesus,
and our choices are simple. We can continue to view the world through our
pre-conceived perspectives, or we can allow God to give us new perspectives.
Depending upon how hardened or brittle our views have become, God will either
gently mold them or shatter them completely. This much is clear, however:
holding onto our former ways is not an option for those who encounter Jesus,
the Son of God.
(For
the full manuscript of this sermon go to www.preachersmagazine.org and click
on “Sermons”)
The
three episodes in this passage—baptism, temptation, and beginning of
ministry—can be dealt with individually, or as a unit.
The
baptism highlights Jesus’ identification with our humanity. It raises
doctrinal issues that give opportunity for thoughtful reflection on the full
humanity and full divinity of Jesus. Further, it reminds us of Jesus’
willingness to associate with sinners—the very ones in whose presence
the church often feels most uncomfortable.
The
temptation is often used thematically for the beginning of the season of Lent.
While details of the 40 days are very sparse in Mark, both the fact of and
the duration of the temptation of Jesus sound a note worth hearing again.
They serve as a reminder in the midst of lofty goals for the season of Lent,
and high hopes for spiritual growth: don’t let them be dashed to bits
in the event that you find yourself facing temptation. Expect temptation to
come, yet embrace the hope we have in Christ for defeating temptation.
Mark’s
brief introduction into the ministry of Jesus provides a succinct summary
of the “good news” of the gospel of Jesus Christ. The simple yet
complex concept of the kingdom of God can be explored. We can also hear the
reminder that the Kingdom can still be proclaimed boldly in those times and
places where the kingdoms of this world provide less than favorable conditions.
Since
Mark has explicitly connected John the Baptist and Jesus to the message of
the Old Testament, one can develop the parallels that are present, though
only implied in these three episodes: a new exodus (Red Sea/Jordan), testing
in the wilderness (40 years/40 days), Promised Land/kingdom of God.
The sermon I have developed focuses on the three episodes as a single unit,
and highlights the way the story of Jesus, as told by Mark, challenges many
of our preconceived ideas of who Jesus is.