Mark 9:38-50
September 29, 2024
A dear friend of mine, and a retired
kindergarten teacher, told me about a lesson she used to teach to her students
at the beginning of each school year. Most of the students came to kindergarten
with an intuitive understanding of a tattletale. They knew, maybe without ever
being told, that they didn’t want to be a tattletale. Tattletales were
not cool, and tattletales were not tolerated by the greater student population.
But there may be times when someone needs to tell a teacher something about
another a student, so when is that acceptable and when isn’t it?
To answer this question, my friend
taught her students the difference between a tattletale and a reporter. If
little Fern sees little Wilbur (I’m using character names from Charlotte’s
Web in case you’re wondering) climb to the top of the swings in order to
jump off, Fern should definitely report this to a teacher or another adult.
What Wilbur is doing is dangerous. He could really hurt himself and he should
be stopped. But if Fern sees Wilbur and Charlotte playing together and she
doesn’t like that because she wants to play with Charlotte, and
she goes to a teacher to complain that’s tattling. Wilbur and Charlotte aren’t
doing anything wrong, so Fern has no good reason to tell. It’s just that Fern
feels left out and bad, so she tries to get the others in trouble. That’s
tattling. My teacher friend wanted her kindergartners to know that it was okay
to be a reporter, but not a tattletale.
When it comes to our passage from
Mark’s gospel, do you think John and the other disciples are being reporters or
are they being tattletales? Do you think they are afraid of the harm that this
unknown unnamed disciple might cause, or do you wonder if John and the
disciples are perhaps a little threatened by this unknown dude doing what they
are supposed to be doing? I suspect it’s the latter.
Instead of rejoicing when they see
this unknown person casting out demons in the name of Jesus, in other words
helping and healing people, they try to stop him. He wasn’t one of them. He
wasn’t with them. He wasn’t following them. He was just some upstart who
thought he could do what only they were called to do, but he wasn’t exorcising
a demon like they would exorcise a demon, and he wasn’t saying the words that
they would say. He wasn’t one of them, but he was doing this work in Jesus’
name anyway. How dare he?!
A commentator I read wrote that when
he was in early elementary school, the little boy who sat behind him would
watch over his shoulder when they were coloring. The minute the commentator
drew outside the lines, crossed that boundary, the other little boy would raise
his hand and tell the teacher. That’s what this story feels like. This unknown
follower of Jesus was coloring outside of a boundary that only the disciples
thought they could see, and they made sure to tell Jesus about it.
But to the disciples’ dismay, Jesus
isn’t bothered by what this other guy is doing. Jesus doesn’t even call the
disciples on their use of the word “us.” Did you notice that? They didn’t tell
Jesus that this guy wasn’t following him, they said,
“Teacher, we saw someone casting out
demons in your name, and we tried to stop him, because he was not following us.”
He was not following us.
Us. That’s a Freudian slip if ever I’ve seen one. But again, Jesus does not
call them on this. Instead he turns the tables on them and their expectations
once again by saying,
“Do not stop him; for no one who
does a deed of power in my name will be able soon afterward to speak evil of
me. Whoever is not against us is for us.”
Whoever is not against us is for us.
I think Jesus wanted them to understand that when it came to proclaiming the
good news of God’s kingdom, following the worldly standards of us versus them
wasn’t going to cut it. This was not about insiders and outsiders. This was
about proclaiming God’s good news to a world that was starving.
This could be just one more instance
in which the disciples didn’t get it. They didn’t understand what Jesus was
telling them. They didn’t want to understand or know or believe the words he
spoke about suffering and death. But Jesus knew that he was running out of
time. At this point in Mark’s gospel, Jesus is heading toward Jerusalem. His
face is set south toward that great city. Jesus knows that there is precious
little time left, and he has to make the disciples and any who would hear him
understand, if only a little, what it means for him to be the Messiah. And as
this passage progresses, he also wants to make it clear what it means for them
to follow.
Following him not only means that
they will be called to pick up their own cross and carry it, but that there are
consequences for being stumbling blocks for others. There are consequences for
being an obstacle to someone else’s faith.
Jesus tells them that if any of them
put a stumbling block in front of one of these little ones who believe in him,
it would be better for them to have a great millstone put around their neck and
thrown into the sea. In fact, if your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off.
It is better to enter life maimed than to go two-handed into hell. If your foot
causes you to stumble, do the same to it. It is better to go into life lame
than to skip along on two feet straight into hell. And if your eye causes you to
stumble, tear it out. Better to meet your maker with one good eye, then to see
clearly as you walk straight to hell.
Now, interpreters and commentators
have made the point again and again that Jesus is using hyperbolic language
here. He is speaking in hyperbole to get his point across in no uncertain
terms. Remember, he knows that his days are numbered. The disciples have to
understand, they must understand, that it is no longer about us versus them.
When it comes to the kingdom of God, they need to see that God is turning
everything upside down. If this other unknown person has found the power in
Jesus’ name to cast out demons, let him! That’s one more for the kingdom.
That’s one more person who is beginning to see the world through God’s eyes.
Alleluia! Amen!
In the past I have preached on this
passage as a stand-alone from the passages before and after it. But I think it
is important to consider what happened immediately before the passage we read
today. John tells Jesus about this other guy, this Johnny come lately, after
they had been arguing about who was the greatest. He tells Jesus this news after
Jesus commits the radical move of taking a little child into his arms and
telling them that welcoming a powerless, vulnerable child is welcoming Jesus. A
colleague in our lectionary group this week pointed out that Jesus was most
likely still holding that child when he spoke these harsh words. Jesus was not
just speaking of putting stumbling blocks in front of other guys who were doing
his work, Jesus was talking about the child in his arms.
If
you put an obstacle or a stumbling block in front of one of these little ones,
you are putting an obstacle in front of me. This isn’t just about keeping the
other guy out and you in. This is about opposing me in this world. It’s about
hindering the progress of my good news in this world. Whenever you make it
about us versus them, you’re really making it about us versus me.
This
should give us pause. (long pause) Debie Thomas wrote that while Jesus’ words
sound harsh and unforgiving, he wasn’t saying them to condemn the disciples. He
was saying them because that is reality. This is what we do. Isn’t it? We draw
lines. We create boundaries. We think that, in Thomas’s words, we should be
God’s bouncers, keeping the riff raff out and the right ones in.
But
Jesus wasn’t having it. Again and again, Jesus tried to make the disciples and
anyone with ears to hear understand that God’s kingdom is wider and broader and
bigger and more expansive than our minds, which lean toward the narrow, can
imagine. Again, to borrow from Thomas, Jesus wants the disciples to stop trying
to be his bouncers, and instead be his hosts. Make room and make welcome
because whoever is not against us is for us. And whoever is for us is for me,
for God, for the kingdom.
Trust
me, I know how easy this is to say and how incredibly hard it is to do. I want
boundaries. I want borders. But each time I think I know who should be in and
who should be out, God says no and then God says yes. God says yes to people
whose theology I think is suspect at best. God says yes to people who don’t
look like me or think like me or worship like me. God says yes to them. And the
good news is that God says to me too. God says yes to all of us when we stop
being bouncers and start being hosts. God says yes when we recognize that we’re
all trying to make our way to God, one way or another. Thanks be to God.
Let
all God’s children say, “Alleluia!”
Amen.
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