Carrying the Cross

Second Sunday of Lent, Yr. B; March 4, 2012

Genesis 17:1-7, 15-16; Psalm 22:23-30; Romans 4:13-25; Mark 8:31-38

Sermon Preached at The Church of St. Luke & St. Simon Cyrene

            Abraham didn’t expect to be the father of a nation.  He didn’t ask for it.  Peter didn’t expect to be a peddler of love and forgiveness.  He didn’t ask for that either.  But Abram was faithful and God transformed him and Sarai.  Simon was faithful, and God transformed him too.  So now we know them as Abraham, Sarah and Peter, their names reflecting the work God has done in them. 

            I doubt that their transformations were easy ones. Abram traveled a long way before God reiterated the promise and FINALLY gave him a son by Sarah.  Abram had left his homeland and traveled through a few unfriendly lands.  He had gone to Egypt, survived a famine, and nearly lost his wife to a foreign king. Sarah had become desperate for the fulfillment of God’s promise.  So Abraham fathered a son by Haggar, and now his son, Ishmael, is a teenager!

            Peter has left his family and his nets to follow Jesus, a decision that has likely made him quite unpopular at home.  He has traveled with Jesus, staying in all kinds of place, learning at his feet with the other disciples.  Simon was perhaps the most ardent mistake maker of the bunch … walking toward Jesus on the water, and ending up taking a bath in the sea.  Recognizing Jesus as the Messiah and then being rebuked in front of the other disciples.  But to be transformed we have to allow ourselves to be broken open by God, to risk looking at ourselves and the world a little differently. 

            At our clergy Bible study this week a friend of mine came in a little late.  He was quieter than usual.  After some conversation, he looked over at me and said, “Have you ever been on a mission trip?”  “Yes, I have”, I told him.  “How was it when you got back?” he asked.  “It was hard”, I said.  “Yes it’s hard for me too.”  I went to Juarez, Mexico.  He went to the 9^th Ward in New Orleans.  He said, “When we were down there everyone knew we weren’t from there.  They’d ask us where we were from, and I’d say Rochester, NY.  I’d tell them we were there to help rebuild, and immediately they would start talking about what had happened the day of the flood.  It was like it had just happened yesterday.  Tears falling down their faces.  I’m having trouble getting back into things.”  My friend was changed.  He was transformed.  He lived through something unexpected that was breaking him open. 

            Peter expected Jesus to be a revolutionary leader, like so many of his followers.  I bet announcing to his followers that the religious authorities were going to reject him wasn’t the best strategy to use in bringing people on board with an emerging movement.  Telling them that their leader was going to suffer and be killed would be a real put off.  But then to tell them all that you were going to rise again in three days … well that was enough to make people wonder about your sanity.  Something like the last straw when it comes to public relations.  I can understand why Peter might jump up and try to intervene.  Something like the press secretary running interference for the president when he’s speaking  at a press conference after a sleepless night and he makes an off the wall statement.  “What do you think you’re doing?  Are you crazy or what?”, Peter might be saying.

            But to confront a teacher in front of a crowd … to “rebuke” him as if he were a person possessed of a demon … was something that demanded a rebuke in return.   Jesus had to respond to Peter to save face.  Or Jesus’ agenda, which we believe was also God’s agenda, would go no further.  The real revolution of love and forgiveness would be undone in an instant.  The good news wouldn’t have a chance to spread.

            I wonder if Jesus was telling his followers just how tenuous his position was.  Jesus knew that he stood between the religious authorities and the Roman government in a delicate balance.  It was Jesus’ identity as a Jew that protected him from the Roman government, and yet his teachings provoked the religious leaders.  Jesus experienced God in such a way that he was able to fulfill the law in ways that those leaders never expected.  Jesus embodied it.  His way of being challenged the temple system and their authority.  Jesus lived the Spirit of the law and through that brought the possibility of transformation to his own religion.  That possibility brought hope to many who were hopeless in his day. 

            As long as the Jewish leaders were able to control Jesus, the Roman authorities would tolerate him.  But God’s work was transforming work.  Transformation stretches boundaries; it causes some tension; it faces resistance.  God’s transformative work found expression through Jesus, and it would not be contained.  The Jewish authorities, responsible for keeping the peace with the Roman government decided that the loss of one was better than a complete collapse of their relationship with the government. 

Jesus used the language of empire … calling God, Lord … proclaiming the Kingdom … of God.  Cesaer was both Lord and king.  To reject that was to reject Roman authority.   Risky business, even today.  That was treason.  Without the support of the Pharisees, scribes and elders … Jesus was an easy target.  He must have known that, but he did it anyway.  He kept poking away … bit by bit.  It led him to the cross. 

Jesus told his followers to “take up their cross” too.   The cross was a Roman symbol not a religious one.  It was a symbol of oppression.  The cross was a symbol meant to frighten even the bravest of foes.  It implied a cruel death.  It was used to scare others into submission, to force cooperation, to silence unwelcome opinions, to keep order.  Hearing your teacher tell you to “carry your cross” must have been nothing short of a terrifying prospect for that crowd. 

Jesus knew that his security didn’t lie with religion or the government.  He trusted in God, not to protect him from all harm … but to work in him so that the self-giving love of God would be revealed in acts of self-giving through him.  Carry your cross.  Don’t be afraid of the authorities.  Speak your truth.  Show love for others in your life even if it means you might have to stand against the dominant culture. 

We do that every time we write to our congressmen and women and advocate for change.  We do that every time we choose to wash dishes instead of throwing paper plates into the trash.   We do that every time we give money to causes that we believe in and find ourselves giving up something we want for ourselves.  We do it every time we help at a Sunday supper or volunteer for RAIHN and give away some of our own valuable time.  We do it whenever we “show up” at a demonstration or public meeting to speak our minds, and stand in solidarity with those in need.  We do it every time we vote our conscience.   We do it every single time we choose to speak our truth with friends and neighbors in casual conversation, and dare to disagree in love.  The dominant culture resists transformation, but carry the cross.

If you don’t believe it how much culture resists, just look at how vociferously people are fighting things like investing in alternative energy … or how they denounce resistance to hydrofracking … or complain about the cost of universal health care … or resist taxing the wealthiest people in our country … or complain about providing quality care for the oldest and poorest and weakest among us.  We’re for it as long as we don’t have to pay for it. We’re for it as long as it doesn’t cost us anything.  We’re for it as long as it doesn’t mean we have to carry our cross.  Well … that’s what love is all about.  Carrying the cross.  It’s about carrying the cross faithfully for our brothers and sisters, trusting that when we are in need others will carry the cross for us.  Simon of Cyrene did that for Jesus on the way to Calvary,

but so did the disciples as they accompanied Jesus on the road;

and so did Mary Magdelene when she anointed Jesus’ feet with oil, and washed his feet with her hair;

And so did the crowds that met him as he entered Jerusalem, carrying palm branches and cheering “Hozanna in the highest”;

And so did God, as God and Jesus lived in full communion with one another through out his life.

            Jesus’ life shows us the fullest implications of a transformed life.  Jesus promised that we could all do what he did, and more … much more.  He was the first fruit of the radical transformation that is possible for humanity.  He was a preview of what we can all attain through the grace of God.  That’s what spiritual practice is all about … transforming ourselves.  Creating an openness that makes room for God in the unexpected encounters of our life.  Providing an opportunity to hear God’s dulcet tones speaking in our hearts and souls, so that when we come to a cross in the road … and we recognize it as ours … we will have the capacity to pick it up and carry it forward in love.  Like Abram, Sarai, Simon and my friend Michael, we will recognize in ourselves something we never expected to find, and a life we never expected to live. 

Carry the cross.  A life lived in love is never lost … only then is it truly found. 

Amen.