OCTOBER 29, 2006: THIRTIETH SUNDAY OF THE YEAR

Readings
Jeremiah 31:7-9
Hebrews 5:1-6
Mark 10:46-52

Mark never thought anyone would read today's gospel passage independent of last week's. To get the full impact of each, one must reflect on both.

If Jesus' question to Bartimaeus - "What do you want me to do for you?" - sounds familiar, it's because he asked James and John the same question a few verses before. The evangelist presumes we're going to compare the two responses.

Jesus cuts down Zebedee's sons when they demand the "glory seats." That wasn't the response he was anticipating.

Bartimaeus is different. Unlike the picture Mark paints of the ambitious brothers, this blind beggar is depicted as a perfect disciple. Notice what he does when Jesus "calls" him. "He threw aside his cloak, sprang up, and came to Jesus."

Biblical "calls" are special entities. Every original reader of Scripture, presuming he or she had received one, paid close attention to how the person called responds. Bartimaeus not only comes instantly to Jesus, he also discarded his cloak, probably his only possession. He sets an example for the reader. Nothing stops him from immediately answering Jesus' call. That's why, when Jesus asks him what he wants, Jesus is actually asking the perfect disciple what he or she wants.

In the old E. F. Hutton commercials, people stop what they're dong and lean in to hear what the person says. That's what Mark's readers are doing as they read this passage.

Bartimaeus' request is classic: "Master, I want to see!" In contrast to the previous pericope, Jesus doesn't tell the beggar he's asking for something stupid. Christian prayer should always revolve around a sincere request to see. The ability to see what the risen Jesus sees makes us other Christs.

"Go your way," Jesus assures him, "your faith has saved you." In this situation, Mark's Jesus doesn't "save" Bartimaeus; his own faith accomplishes that. Faith removes our blindness; the faith we share with Jesus.

One last point, Mark ends the passage with the remark, "Immediately he received his sight and followed him on the way." Jesus and his disciples are leaving Jericho. Their next stop is Jerusalem. Mark follows the Bartimaeus narrative with Jesus' "Palm Sunday" entrance into the Holy City. The beggar follows Jesus down the road that leads to his passion, death and resurrection.

If you were with us when we started Mark's three series of predictions/misunderstandings/clarifications back in chapter 8, you'll remember Jesus tells Peter, "Get behind me, Satan!" The Greek word for disciple simply means a "go behinder," someone who follows behind another. That's exactly what Bartimaeus, the perfect disciple, does. True disciples always walk in Jesus; dying/rising footsteps.

The author of Hebrews reminds us how Jesus related to God. He took no "honor on himself." He did only what God called him to do; and he responded generously, even though he, like us, was "beset by weakness."

Even when Jeremiah, in today's first reading, promises that Yahweh will one day bring the people of Israel home from their Assyrian Exile, he clearly states why the Chosen People follow such a God. "I," Yahweh proclaims, "am a father to Israel, Ephraim is my first-born."

Whether people follow Jesus in the Christian Scriptures, or Yahweh in the Hebrew Scriptures, they're following someone who loves them. No biblical author wants us to suffer for suffering's sake. Dying only makes sense if there's some kind of resurrection at the end of the process; a fulfillment and joy we wouldn't experience without suffering and dying.

We simply have to keep asking Jesus to have eyes enlightened with enough faith to enable us to see what's at the end of the road.

OCTOBER 22, 2006: TWENTY-NINTH SUNDAY OF THE YEAR

Readings
Isaiah 53:10-11
Hebrews 4:14-16
Mark 10:35-45

To understand the original impact of today's gospel pericope, we must go back five and six weeks to check Mark's first and second prediction/misunderstanding/clarification passages. Today we have the last two elements of the evangelist's third series. (For some reason, Jesus' prediction of his passion, death and resurrection has been omitted.) In the two prior series in chapters 8 and 9, Mark teaches we're to imitate Jesus' death by being open to whatever God asks of us, and by accepting the presence of the risen Jesus in those whom society judges unimportant. Now Mark takes dying one step further.

Here James and John are given the opportunity to misunderstand what it means to die with Jesus. They represent those leaders in Mark's Roman community concerned only for their own "glorification." Jesus cuts down their power-grabbing request with the statement, "You do not know what you are asking." In other words, "You're asking for the wrong thing." (In next week's Bartemaeus narrative we'll discover what a true disciple actually asks of Jesus.)

Instead of handing over the "glory seats," Jesus reminds the pair of the dying which discipleship entails. He uses metaphors of an immersing baptism and a strong drink. Then he clarifies discipleship for the "indignant ten." "You know that those who are recognized as rulers over the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones make their authority felt. But it shall not be among you."

Though the historical Jesus never intended to found a church as we know it, he still presumed his followers would eventually develop some form of "institutional structure." Whatever shape it would take, Mark's certain he didn't want it to be the authoritarian structure some were imposing on the community for which he's writing. Christian authority must be exercised completely different from how authority is exercised in any other society. The only pattern we have is the authority Jesus practiced.

"Whoever wishes to be great among you," Jesus insists, "will be your servant; whoever wishes to be first among you will be the slave of all. For the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many."

We can only guess how frequently Jesus reflected on Deutero-Isaiah's Fourth Song of the Suffering Servant, how often he applied the words to himself and his ministry. "Because of his affliction," the slain prophet's followers wrote, "he shall see the light in fullness of days; through his suffering, my servant shall justify many, and their guilt he shall bear."

Jesus led by weakness, not strength. As the Hebrews author puts it, "We do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who has similarly been tested in every way, yet without sin." Jesus became weak to help us value our own weakness. He could only lead us by giving himself for us.

When I'm treating today's gospel passage in class, I ask my students, "How much is a ransom?" They quickly answer, "It's as much as the person ransomed is worth." Jesus, as our ransom, finds his value in the value of the people he serves. In order to live, he commands his followers to die by completely making themselves weak for others.

As much as Mark had problems with those who were assuming an authority posture contrary to the example of the servant/slave Jesus, he's probably spinning in his grave knowing how a little over a hundred years after he wrote his gospel, some Christian churches began to adopt the authority structure of the Roman Empire which not only killed Jesus, but was the antithesis of everything he believed in and died for. Nothing could be further from the mind and plans of Jesus.

OCTOBER 15, 2006: TWENTY-EIGHTH SUNDAY OF THE YEAR

Readings
Wisdom 7:7-11
Hebrews 4:12-13
Mark 10:17-30

Biographers of W. C. Fields always narrate an episode which happened shortly before he died. A friend came to visit him in the hospital and was amazed to find the comedian reading a Bible. "I didn't know you were a religious person, Bill," the friend said.

"I'm not!" Fields shot back.

"Then what are you doing with that Bible?"

"Looking for loopholes!"

Fields wasn't alone in his pursuit. Hearing the demands God lays on people of faith, lots of us try to discover ways of being Christian without having to follow every one of those demands. Nowhere does our loophole quest kick in more than in today's gospel passage.

The rich man asks Jesus a simple question: "What do I have to do to get into heaven?" Jesus gives a simple response: "Keep the commandment." But then their conversation goes to another level. Both realize there's more to life than just getting into heaven. Jesus' historical ministry revolves not just around getting people into heaven, but around getting into the "kingdom of God" long before they reach the pearly gates.

As we learned in Mark's first chapter, Jesus uses "kingdom of God" as a way to express his belief that God is here, present and working in each person's life. One must do more than just keep rules and regulations in order to step across the line into that kingdom. We only experience God in that special way by going through a "metanoia" - a total change of our value system.

Jesus concretizes that metanoia for the rich man. "Go, sell what you have; give to the poor and you will have treasure in heaven; then come follow me."

The man isn't prepared to make such a drastic change in his value system. As he walks away, even Jesus' disciples show they don't understand his demand. After he comments, "How hard it is for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!' their objections force him to put his belief into starker terms: "It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for one who is rich to enter the kingdom of God." Those looking for loopholes will be surprised to learn there's no narrow Jerusalem gate, or tight, but passable rock formation anywhere near the city called the "Eye of the Needle." Jesus is just employing a well-known rabbinic idiom for impossibility - something like "You've got the chance of a snowball in hell . . . ."

When the astonished disciples come back with, "Then who can be saved?" Jesus states, "For human beings it is impossible, but not for God."

Neither is this to be interpreted as a loophole, assuring Christians that God will still permit the rich to enter the kingdom. If that were the case, Jesus would have to call to the rich man and offer him "Plan B." God simply will help the rich do the impossible: give up their wealth and live a more God-filled life. There's no loophole to entering God's kingdom.

That's why the author of the Letter to the Hebrews must remind his readers, ". . . The word of God is living and effective, sharper than any two-edge sword, penetrating even between soul and spirit . . . ." Like any two-edge sword, the word cuts both ways; it cuts if you carry it out, and it cuts if you refuse to carry it out. No one attains life - even life here on earth - without experiencing death."

We're expected to have the mind of our Wisdom author; a mind which values the life true wisdom offers more than it values riches. Such life-giving wealth comes only to those willing to pay God's price.

Even if W. C. Fields eventually uncovered a biblical loophole that enabled him to squeeze into heaven, it seems to have come too late for him to have enjoyed the life he was about to leave.

OCTOBER 8, 2006: TWENTY-SEVENTH SUNDAY OF THE YEAR

Readings
Genesis 2:18-24
Hebrews 2:9-11
Mark 10:2-16

The concept of biblical myths is one of the most difficult things for people of our culture to understand.

Brought up with the idea that a myth is a story that isn't true, the term seems to be an oxymoron. How can it not be true if it's in the Bible?

In her recent book, A short History of Myth, Karen Armstrong deals with this misconception. Though myths can't be taken literally, they were created to convey deep truths; ideas which lie at the very heart of our existence and experience. In the last chapter of her work, the British theologian admits that people rarely compose myths today as they did thousands of years ago. But they do compose myths. They simply employ the modern forms of novels and movies. When a few years ago, for instance, people voted Atticus Finch the most beloved movie character of all time, I presume they knew the courageous lawyer in To Kill a Mockingbird wasn't an actual historical person. He was a fictional character created by Harper Lee and brilliantly brought to life by Gregory Peck. Yet whoever came into contact with this mythical person discovered dimensions in themselves they had never before surfaced. Atticus Finch challenges us to become what he is. Each of us knows we have the same longing for justice, the same opposition to prejudice and the same desire for equality that he embodies. Encountering him forces us to do a gut check on whether we have the courage to carry though on those parts of our personality.

The story of Atticus finch is a classic myth. Like all mythical persons, he resonates in all of us.

Today's Genesis passage accomplishes something parallel. We know enough about evolution not to take this Yahwistic myth literally. But the truths it conveys are as much a part of us as the environment we inhabit. We understand, for instance, how warped people become when they're "alone" for long periods of time. Nothing helps us better understand who we are than our relationships with other human beings. Though some seem to relate better with animals, we know from experience that's not what we were created to do.

Obviously the author composed this particular myth against the background of male prejudice against women. That's why Yahweh creates the woman out of the same "stuff" that makes up the man. No one can excuse his prejudice by claiming that women are made of a different material. They're one in their origins. And married couples demonstrate that unity whenever they engage in intercourse: an action which results in again becoming "one flesh."

Even a quick reading of the gospels shows Jesus passionately driven to bring people together into an oneness which few reflected on or believed they were able to accomplish. He stresses in Matthew 23, for instance, how there should be no distinctive titles in his community; how, as the author of today's Hebrews passage stresses, he simply regards all of us as "brothers and sisters."

In the same way, in our gospel pericope, Jesus emphasizes that when people commit themselves to be one in marriage, we shouldn't develop loopholes permitting us to destroy that unity. Nor, in the following passage, should we forget the oneness we share with other humans, even with those, like children, who can bug the daylights out of us.

Certainly not all married couples can stay together for life. Neither can we always sense the oneness with those who create problems for us. But unless we understand what God calls us to do, we'll never work toward creating a world in which God's plan can be carried out.

Perhaps someone should create a few more Atticus Finches to help us become the people we know God wants us to be.

OCTOBER 1, 2006: TWENTY-SIXTH SUNDAY OF THE YEAR

Readings:
Numbers 11:25-29
Ames 5:1-6
Mark 9:38-42, 45, 47-48

I often remind my readers and students that when our sacred authors write, they're almost always addressing problems in the communities for whom they write. Rarely do biblical authors sit down on a beautiful, sunny day with no problems running through their minds and produce Scripture. If our ancestors in the faith had lived their faith correctly, we'd have no Scripture. One of the first tasks of biblical students is to surface the problems which prompted the writer to compose the text they're studying.

That task is a breeze for those hearing today's first and third readings. No matter how "authentic" a religious institution is, it continually runs the risk of restricting God's actions to the institution's actions.

On occasions I've found myself behind cars sporting an "I Speak for God" bumper sticker. For some unexplored reason, I'm always tempted to rear-end such cars, then anxiously wait to hear what God's spokesperson has to say when he or she jumps out of the car and confronts me. One must be extremely careful when one believes one represents God and God's actions.

Sometimes it's easy to figure out what God wants. James, in our second reading, provides several classic examples. "Behold the wages you withheld from the workers who harvested your fields are crying aloud; and the cries of the harvesters have reached the Lord of hosts . . . . You have condemned; you have murdered the righteous one who offers you no resistance." Any religious institution which joins James in condemning such practices is certainly speaking for God.

But on a more significant level, how does an institution deal with people and situations through whom God works and speaks who are not sanctioned by that institution, and, like biblical prophets, even criticize the institution?

A case in point is today's Numbers account of Eldad and Medad receiving Yahweh's spirit though they weren't present at the "official gathering" when Yahweh bestowed that spirit. Joshua tells Moses to stop them from prophesying, from using a gift which could only come from receiving Yahweh's spirit. By missing the sanctioned ceremony they had forfeited their right to inform people of Yahweh's will.

Moses' response to Joshua is what we would expect from a good, faithful leader. He first asks, "Are you jealous for my sake?" In other words, "Are you trying to protect my position of authority in the community?" Then he shares an agenda that all religious leaders should have. "Would that all the people of Yahweh were prophets! Would that Yahweh would bestow his spirit on them all!" Moses is determined never to exercise his authority in a way which would restrict Yahweh's actions in the community.

Jesus read Moses' book. In our gospel pericope he demonstrates a Moses-like frame of mind when John stupidly tries to prevent someone who "does not follow us" from driving out demons in Jesus' name. He gives a simple norm for judging such cases: "Whoever is not against us is for us."

Scholars often point out the significance of Mark placing this narrative immediately before Jesus states, "Whoever causes one of these little ones who believes in me to sin, it would be better . . . ." It's the consensus of those scholars that the "whoever" in this passage refers to leaders in Mark's community. The "little ones" are ordinary Christians. Mark's Jesus is warning such leaders about a sin we rarely confess: the sin of limiting God and God's actions to "official channels." It's a scandal for anyone to teach that God only works through just one religion, or one denomination in that religion.

Now we not only have to worry about another sin to confess, we also have to be more alert for a biblical quality of leadership we rarely consider.