September 13, 2009
The Whole Story - Mark 8:27-9:1
Pastor: Luke Maybry
DownloadUnless you have been living under a rock for the last couple of months, you know full well that much of the energy of our country has been absorbed by the current health care debate, about whether to implement government run, universal coverage, or to allow the current system of private, partial coverage, or something in between. The President told us on TV on Wednesday, more or less, that government run, universal coverage is the way to go. And, of course, his opponents said that the other way is the way to go. And of course they gave conflicting reports and facts as they always do. I’m not here to either defend or attack either of those positions, but what I will say that whatever we do, we need to know the whole story up front. Or to put it another way, we need to think long and hard about the implications of whatever we de before we do it. As I see it, that’s the problem. We need to know the full story, but we don’t know.
As Jesus and his disciples were on the mountainside of Caesarea Philippi overlooking Jerusalem, Jesus asked his disciples a fairly simple question. “Who do the people say that I am?” he asked. “Well that’s easy,” his disciples said. “We’ve heard from some people that you are John the Baptist. Others say that you’re Elijah. And still others say that maybe you’re just one of the prophets.” That was a fairly easy question, don’t you think, and they gave a fairly easy answer. Then Jesus asked another fairly simple, albeit more pointed, question. “Who do you say that I am?” he asked. “Well that’s easy, too,” Peter replied. “You are the Christ. Exclamation point, end of story, let’s go home and get back to whatever it was we were doing. The pot-roast in my oven is starting to smell really good, and the Panthers play at 1:00 today, and I’ve got work tomorrow.”
I obviously added that last part, but I really think that’s what Peter meant. At least, if Peter was anything like me, that’s exactly what he meant. In fact, if Peter was anything like anyone engaged in this outlandish health care debate, that’s exactly what he meant. We like easy, uncomplicated answers. We like it when others make their long stories short. We like it when we can put an exclamation point at the end of a sentence, or better yet a period, and move on to bigger and better things. We do not like ambiguity. We do not like not knowing. We like simple, and Peter’s answer here is simple. I personally give Peter an “A” in his response to Jesus’ question.
In fact, Peter did in this passage what most of us, including myself, will do today. Every Sunday we come in here, and the same question, “Who do you say that I am?” is posed to us. And every Sunday, like Peter, we flippantly give the same answer, and then we get back on with our lives, to our pot-roast, or the panthers game, or work. Jesus makes it clear in this text, though, and also in Matthew’s and Luke’s versions of this same story, that that simple answer is not enough. Jesus wants us to be well aware of the implications that answer, of the whole story.
If we are going to call ourselves Christian, if we are going to confess Jesus as the Christ and Lord and Savior, then we have to follow Him. And Jesus, as we all know, died, on a cross, like a common criminal. When it came to worldly success, Jesus came in dead last. When it came to happiness, or fulfillment, or finding ourselves (whatever that means), Jesus came in dead last. Jesus submitted himself totally to the will of God. Jesus began to teach his disciples in verse 31 that he must suffer, and be persecuted, and die. Jesus knew that he was part of a divine plan, and he submitted himself fully, he lost himself fully, in that plan. If we are going to follow Jesus, we have to lose ourselves fully, too. That’s the whole demanding, difficult, complicated, and yet redeeming story of our faith.
I never cease to be amazed at mothers. As a father I hate to say this, but mothers seem to have more of a natural knack for parenthood than fathers. I can’t tell you how many times I have seen a mother (my own wife being one example) just naturally take to being a mother. I don’t know what happens. Maybe it comes from labor pains, or the epidural. I have no idea. All I know is that you come home from the hospital and a mama, whereas before you weren’t. And you just know what to do, like you’ve always known. The most amazing thing to me is that you completely lose yourselves in your children. Your child’s life becomes your life. I can’t explain it. It just happens, and it has to be one of nature’s greatest wonders.
For fathers, at least for this father, it’s different. I’ve got to work at being a father. The part that scared me the most about parenting (dirty diapers, no sleep, crying babies) has been a piece of cake. What has not been a piece of cake, what has not come naturally, though, is losing myself in my children. For example, I came home this past Tuesday just to have my TV and computer on the blitz. The sky was falling. The world was ending. Hurricane Hugo was making a 20th anniversary trip. Neither of my children cared about the TV or computer not working. They both wanted to go outside and swing, and if I had one iota of sense, that’s exactly what I would have done. But no, just as a point of principle, I had to get the TV and computer fixed. So I called the lady from AT&T. And naturally, it was a disaster. Both my girls were upset, wanting attention, wanting something to eat, wanting to sit on the potty, wanting mainly (imagine this) their undivided father, and the lady on the phone was telling me to press all these buttons on the computer, and I was having a very bad day. Had I just lost myself, and let Andy Griffith and email wait, life would have been so much better for all of us. I have found as a father that losing myself in my children, which I think more than anything is what being a good father is to a degree, is something that I have to be very intentional about. It’s not natural for me. I’ve got to work hard at it, and sacrifice much more than a TV show. And yet, the few times that I have been successful have been the best times of my life.
It seems to me that being a Christian, in that respect, is a lot like being a father. The whole story, I think Jesus is telling us in this text, is that being a Christian is far more than coming to Church on occasion and proclaiming, as Peter did, that Jesus is Lord. That part’s easy. But the whole story, or the implication of proclaiming Jesus as Lord, is not easy at all. Following Jesus to the Cross is not easy at all. Losing ourselves in Jesus is not easy. It does not come naturally. It takes intent, and lots and lots of prayer, and patience, and a community to support us, and courage.
We live in a world that is, by definition, un-Christian. Jesus himself told us in John 18 that the world would hate his disciples, and goodness knows that prediction has come true. Christians who speak up and tell the truth and expose the filth in our culture, you know, like Jesus did, never end up on the popular side of things. But that’s what we have to do. We’ve got to take up our crosses and lose ourselves in Jesus. We’ve got to come to Church every Sunday and get involved in this community. That takes intent and persistence. We have to spend time in prayer and nourish our faith and read our Bibles and read our newspapers and look squarely and honestly at the issues of our day. And we have to be up front about the fact that this whole story about Jesus may not initially seem to be in our best interest. In fact, it may kill us. At least Jesus said it would. We’ve got to lose ourselves in Jesus. That’s the whole story. We need to know that story up front and be honest about it. And we have to admit the fact that there really is no such thing as a nominal Christian. We either follow Jesus or we follow ourselves. That’s the whole, complicated story of confessing Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior.
I don’t know if this story is true or not, but I have always heard that George Vanderbilt, who was from New York, came down here to the mountains of North Carolina as a young man with his mother. He was up on a mountain one day looking over thousands upon thousands of acres of God’s beautiful country. And he said to his mother, “Mama, I want it. I want all of it.” And with his inheritance, he bought it. He bought all of it. I believe that the whole story of our faith is not only that Jesus is the Christ and savior of the world. That’s true and it is tremendous news. But it leads to a command. The rest of the story is that Jesus is looking at our lives and he is saying, as he said to Peter, “I want it. I want all of it.” As hard as it is, I believe that we have to give it, all of it. I’m not so sure that we’ll ever succeed at fulfilling such a tall order. But at least from how Jesus responded to Peter here, that is indeed the order. That’s the whole story. So may we all get busy, and start praying, that all of our lives may be consumed by the One who gave all of his life for ours.
In the Name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen.
