Mark 8:31-38
February
28, 2021
I’m with Peter on this one. I know,
I know, it feels terrible to admit that, to myself, and even worse to admit
that to all of you. I have preached this passage from Mark’s gospel several
times, and I’ve preached the other gospel versions of this story as well. In
the past I have empathized with Peter’s shock and struggle and his impulsive
response, but even in my empathy I’ve always thought,
“Oh
Peter. Just listen to Jesus. Just wait a minute. You don’t want to say what
you’re saying.”
But
this time around, I find myself thinking, “Tell him, Peter. Tell him. Tell Jesus
to stop it. Tell Jesus to stop saying these things. Tell him to stop, Peter,
because I want him to stop talking about these things too.”
I find myself wanting to add my
voice to Peter’s. I want to raise a chorus of many voices crying out, “Stop it,
Jesus. Just stop it. Stop talking about suffering. Stop talking about
rejection, suffering, killing, death. I don’t want to hear it. None of us wants
to hear these things. You, Jesus, you of all people are not supposed to
suffer. You are not supposed to die. And what is it with this talk about
resurrection? We don’t get it cause dead is dead.”
Stop it, Jesus, just stop it. Like I
said, I’m with Peter on this one.
But why? Why am I feeling so strongly
about this? In previous years and in previous sermons, I have generally focused
on Peter’s response to Jesus as being a clash of expectations. Peter and the
other disciples, in fact most of the Jewish population, believed that the
Messiah would be the one to rescue them from the brutal Roman occupation of
their land, of their homes, their minds, their hearts. The Messiah would be a
great warrior. He would lead them in a battle of divine might and
righteousness. He would oust the Romans once and for all, and the people would
be free – free from occupation, domination, free to self-govern, free to live
as they choose.
If that was their expectation, then
they were in for a shock. Because when Peter confesses Jesus as the Messiah,
the Son of God, Jesus turns around and says,
“Okay,
here’s what it really means to be the Messiah. I’m going to suffer, and I’m
going to be rejected and betrayed by the religious leaders, and I’m going be
killed, and then after three days, I’m going to rise again.”
Wait
a minute? What?! You’re going to do what?! You’re going to go through what?! Jesus
defies their expectations of what it means to be a Messiah, and Peter, who I
suspect puts voice to what the other disciples were thinking, rebukes Jesus. Peter
essentially tells Jesus that all this talk about suffering isn’t helping
anybody. It’s certainly not helping Jesus’ cause. They are all on board with
him being the Messiah of their expectations, but not with the Messiah that he
is describing.
I
do believe that all this factors into Peter’s rebuke of Jesus. There were great
differences in expectations of how and what the Messiah would be. But I also
wonder if Peter just couldn’t bear to hear anymore talk of suffering. I suspect
that he and the other disciples would have experienced enough suffering in
their own lives already. They did not want to hear about suffering from their
Messiah as well.
We
know some particulars about Peter. He was a fisherman. That had to have been a
grueling, hard life. Fishing with large nets, risking their lives in often
stormy and dangerous waters. Their livelihood, their survival, always dependent
on the daily catch. It was not a job that made them rich. If anything, it just
kept them going from one day to the next. That is, if they didn’t give up most
of their meager income to taxes.
As
we know from other passages, taxation was a huge exploitation of the people.
There is a reason that we read about tax collectors and sinners. Tax
collectors weren’t just sinners, they had their own category of sin. I suspect Peter
and the other disciples paid far more than their share in taxes to a government
that sought only to oppress them.
And
as I said earlier, Israel was a people who lived under occupation. Not only
would that have been physically, mentally, and economically unbearable, the
fact that foreign aggressors lived and ruled on the land God had given them
would have been spiritually untenable. It would have been nothing short of
sacrilege.
And
when Jesus talked about his own death, his own killing? Crucifixion was a
common form of Roman execution. As one commentator pointed out, it is highly
probable that Peter and the other disciples had seen far too many crosses in
their lives already. The thought of their Rabbi, the Messiah hanging on one of
his own was too much to bear.
I
can’t help but wonder if Peter rebuked Jesus because he just couldn’t stomach
hearing anymore about suffering. Life was suffering enough. And I can’t help
but agree with Peter on this one. Suffering is never easy to bear or to hear,
but never have I not wanted to Jesus’ words about his own suffering more
than I do not want to hear them this year.
Usually,
I try to give something up for Lent each year. Some years what I’ve given up
has been more frivolous than others. Chocolate. Ice cream. Losing those things
has challenged my sweet tooth, but little else. My husband made the joke that
some people give up their New Year’s resolutions for Lent. But this year, I couldn’t
seem to come up with something to give up that felt right. A friend and a
spiritual leader in our denomination wrote on social media that this year it is
okay if we can’t give something up for Lent this year. It’s okay to let
ourselves off the hook on that one. We have given up so much already, it’s okay
to not add any more sacrifice to all of the sacrifices we’ve already made.
Last
year at this time, life as we knew it was about to dramatically change. Who
would have thought that a year later we would still be struggling with this
pandemic? Well, I didn’t think it. It is safe to say that we are all suffering
from what a colleague termed, “pandemic fatigue.” And I realize that if that is
all I’m suffering from, then I am exceedingly lucky. Luckier than far too many
of my sisters and brothers in this country and in this world. Someone told me
at the beginning of this that most of us would probably know at least two
people who had died from Covid by the time we came through it. I couldn’t
imagine that being possible at the time, and yet I know two people who have died.
Last
year at this time, it was unfathomable that even 40,000 Americans might die
from this, but 500,000?! I don’t even know what to do with that number. I
cannot wrap my head around it. There has just been so much suffering, in our
country, in the world, I don’t want to hear anymore about suffering. I don’t
want to hear it.
And
I suspect that Peter didn’t want to hear it either. So he rebuked Jesus, but
Jesus rebuked him right back.
“Get
behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on
human things.”
Then
Jesus told them about the picking up of their own crosses and following him. He
told them that if they only worked to preserve their lives, they would lose
them, but in being willing to give up their life for Jesus’ sake, for the sake
of the gospel, they would save their lives. As far as the expectations that the
disciples and the people may have had about the Messiah, those were worldly.
Those were about freedom according to the world. They could win their freedom.
They could win their land back. They could foment an uprising and oust the
Romans, they could have all the worldly glory and riches and honor, but in the
end that would give them nothing.
It
seems to me that Jesus was telling them in no uncertain terms that there are no
shortcuts. There are no shortcuts to avoid suffering. There are no shortcuts to
bypass it, not even for him. If Lent reminds us of anything, it’s that there
are no shortcuts for us either. We cannot get to Easter without Good Friday. We
cannot get to life, full life, life with God, without going through the cross.
There are no shortcuts when it comes to following Jesus. There are no shortcuts
when it comes to discipleship. And I know that these are not the words of
comfort that we all want to hear. I know.
And
as I have thought about comfort and consolation in light of this passage, I
have realized that perhaps the most comforting words we have in scripture are
not found specifically in this passage, but I think they are implied. Those
words are: “Do not be afraid.”
I
think these words underline the message Jesus is speaking to Peter and the
others, even if he does not say them aloud. Do not be afraid. You are so afraid
of suffering. You are so afraid of losing your life, that you forget what
living is supposed to be. You are so afraid of suffering, that you would gladly
gain the whole world, but you would lose everything that really matters.
Do
not be afraid. Do not be afraid to pick up your cross and follow me. Do not be
afraid to lose your life for my sake. Do not be afraid of the suffering that
lies ahead – for me or for you. Do not be afraid. Because when you finally give
up your fear, when you finally let it go, you will not only gain the life that
follows this one, but you will also, in fact, gain the whole world. You will
gain the world that God created, the world that God meant to be. When you let go
of your fear, when you let go of your need to preserve your life, you will be
able to see the world more through the eyes of God than through your own. When
you are finally ready to give up the whole world, that is when you will gain
it.
There
are no shortcuts or bypasses through suffering, but do not be afraid. Pick up
your cross and follow me. Be willing to lose what in the end does not matter.
Be prepared to gain everything that does.
Do
not be afraid. Pick up your cross. Follow me.
Let
all of God’s people say, “Alleluia.”
Amen.
