The Crosses We Carry

Mark 8:27-38

September 15, 2024

 

"I find God in the suffering eyes reflected in mine. Some people find God in church. Some people find God in nature. Some people find God in love; I find God in suffering. I've known for some time what my life's work is, using my hands as tools to relieve suffering."

Those words were written by Kayla Mueller. She was the young American woman killed several years ago while being held hostage by ISIS. This excerpt was from a letter she wrote to her family in 2011 while she was serving with an aid organization in India. The Huffington Post quoted this in an article after it was confirmed that she had been killed by airstrikes on the compound where she was being held.

“I find God in the suffering eyes reflected in mine.”

Those are profound words, and they reflect the deep faith of a young woman who I believe, and to quote her parents, lived more purposefully in her 26 years than most of us do in a much longer lifetime. As I read Kayla’s words again, I wonder if they might be linked to the question Jesus asked of his disciples on the road to Caesarea Philippi.

“Who do people say I am?”

Jesus asked while they were on the way to the villages of that region. The disciples immediately offered answers.

“Some folks are claiming you are John the Baptist.” “Other people are saying you’re Elijah or one of the prophets.”

I can imagine the disciples talking over each other, getting more and more excited as they share the different theories on Jesus’ identity that they were hearing in the neighborhoods and on the streets. As one commentator pointed out, Jesus didn’t try to stop them as they offer these opinions. He just listened. And when they were finally finished, Jesus didn’t correct them either. Instead, he asked them another, more pointed question.

“Who do you say that I am?”

Where are the disciples enthusiastic responses now? Before they were just sharing what others were saying. Now, they must answer the question for themselves. Who do they believe him to be?

If there was an awkward silence after Jesus asked this second question, Peter didn’t let it last long. He rushed in with his declaration,

“You are the Messiah.”

We don’t know if Jesus cried, “You got it, Peter!” But we do know that as soon as Peter said this, Jesus ordered the disciples not to tell anyone what Peter had just revealed. He ordered them sternly. He was unflinchingly serious. I am the Messiah, but don’t tell anyone. This is the Messianic secret that many generations of scholars have theorized and written about.

While there were probably many reasons why Jesus didn’t want the larger population to know his identity as the One sent from God, perhaps one of those reasons was that he knew full well how the title Messiah would be misinterpreted and misunderstood. Jesus understood that if people recognized him as the Messiah, they would expect a certain kind of action from him that was not going to happen. They would expect him to be someone that he was not. And when the people’s expectations met his reality, there would be confusion and anger. We know that this is exactly what does happen, but it was too soon for that truth to be revealed to the whole population. Jesus knew that. Jesus knew the time was not yet right, so he made them keep his truth a secret.

Yet, while the larger population could not yet be told about Jesus’ identity as the Messiah, these were his disciples. These were his closest followers. These twelve were the ones he called to follow him, and they had responded without hesitation. Now that Peter had declared his identity, the disciples must know the truth about what it really meant to be God’s Messiah.

So Jesus began to tell them, to teach them, that as the Messiah he would suffer.

“He would undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again.”

However much Jesus wanted the disciples to keep his Messiah identity under wraps, he spoke to his disciples “quite openly” about his suffering and death. But this was all too much for Peter. Peter pulled Jesus aside and rebuked him.

I know that I have stated this when I’ve preached on this passage in the past, but rebuke is not a word to be taken lightly. Peter rebuked Jesus in the same way Jesus rebuked demons. Whatever Peter said to Jesus, and we can imagine several possibilities, his words must have been harsh and angry. I can almost hear Peter telling Jesus to knock this talk about suffering and dying off, stop saying these crazy things. Not only was Jesus scaring and confusing the disciples, but they were also in the heart of Roman territory. The villages of Caesarea Philippi were towns bearing the name of Caesar. What Jesus told them was scandalous, treasonous, terrifying, and dangerous; not only for him, but for his followers as well.

But even if what Jesus said wasn’t a potential threat to their well-being, it still made no sense. Jesus was teaching the disciples, proclaiming to them that as the Messiah he would suffer. God’s messenger would suffer. God’s Son would suffer. God would suffer! How could there be a suffering God? Wasn’t God supposed to end suffering? Wasn’t God supposed to be the balm, the antidote to suffering? Wasn’t God supposed to be above suffering, the torment and bane of human existence? But Jesus said that he would suffer, and that he would suffer greatly. This couldn’t be right. This could not be the way God planned to save them, through a suffering Son.

But that was what Jesus told them. The crux of being the Messiah was suffering. The cross was at the heart of the matter.

Jesus did not let it end there. He then told them that if they want to be his followers, they must deny themselves, pick up their own crosses and follow him. He would suffer for their sake and for the sake of the world; in turn they must be ready to suffer for him.

To deny themselves was not about giving up a beloved treat or pastime. I don’t believe it was about self-mortification or beating the flesh into submission either. Denying themselves was more about serving and following and following and serving even if it meant the sacrifice of their own lives. Perhaps they would lose out on some of the things of this world, but in following him they would gain so much more.

This sounds powerful in theory, but I suspect that picking up a cross and suffering as Jesus did was not a big selling point for discipleship. It wasn’t for the first disciples, and if we’re honest, the idea of suffering probably isn’t for us either. At the end of Mark – the actual end, not the shorter or longer versions that were added on later – Jesus suffered and died without followers. Jesus died without followers. They ran away afraid. God suffering and dying on a cross was a cross they were too afraid to bear.

Yet Jesus made it clear to the disciples and all those who would listen that following him meant not only in his footsteps but in his suffering. Perhaps the next question he should have asked them was the question Kayla Mueller answered. “Where do you see God?”

I’ve always understood Jesus’ words about picking up our crosses as representing the individual burdens that each of us must bear. As the hymn says, what trials and tribulations do we carry? Well, those are our crosses. But more and more I wonder if Jesus wasn’t speaking so much about personalized burdens but about the cross that leads to death so that others might live, the cross that we carry into the suffering of the world and not away from it.

Maybe that is what is at the heart of the matter. Maybe following Jesus requires us to look into the eyes of those who suffer in this world and see God. Maybe following Jesus requires that we look into the eyes of those suffering, see God in those people, and then respond; respond to them as Jesus responded to the suffering people he encountered every day. Maybe following Jesus calls us to see that what we say and do, and even more what we don’t, matters because we are all connected to one another, tied to one another. We are all in this together. The way I live, my actions, my choices,  affect other people, people that I know and people that I don’t. Maybe carrying our crosses means choosing to live differently, intentionally and mindfully – mindful of the ways we treat others, mindful of how our living impacts other people and creation. Maybe carrying our crosses means asking ourselves these questions, again and again and again.

Who do I, Amy, Brent, Charlotte, Kim, Beth, Bill, Brianna, Andrew, Barbara, Charlie, Cheryl, Pam, Jerry, Mellisa, Rick, etc. say that Jesus is? And where and in who do we see God? When we ask those questions and seek the answers, then we will know the crosses we are called to carry. Then we will pick up our crosses and follow Jesus, follow him to death and follow him to life. Thanks be to God.

Let all of God’s children say, “Alleluia!”

Amen.