Tuesday, September 18, 2018

Letting go. September 16, 2018 The Rev. Kathleen M. Sturges




Mark 8:27-38

“I have some good news and some bad news,” said the small engine pilot to his three passengers. “The bad news is the plane is going to crash.  The good news is that we have parachutes aboard.  But there’s more bad news, there are only three parachutes for the four of us.”  As the pilot went on to explain that the authorities would expect him to make a full report of the situation he quickly slipped on one of the parachutes, gave the shocked passengers a thumbs up, and jumped.  Moments later, one of the three passengers stood up and declared that as an extremely intelligent person, the world desperately needed his wisdom and great learning.  So he grabbed a pack and disappeared out into the air.  Which left the remaining two passengers, a priest and a boy scout, on their own as the  plane continued to careen towards the ground.  “You go,” the priest said, “I’ve lived a long, full life and you have your life ahead of you.  Take the last parachute and save yourself.”  “Oh, not to worry,” said the boy scout with a grin on his face, “turns out that Mr. Intelligent just grabbed my backpack.”

In our reading from the gospel of Mark today Jesus has just asked the question, “Who do you say that I am?”  And Peter responds by grabbing what he thinks is parachute and takes a flying leap of faith with his reply, “You are the Messiah!”  Peter is absolutely right.  Jesus is indeed the long-awaited Messiah.  However, he is totally wrong about what that means.  In Peter’s mind the Messiah has one primary job - to save the Jewish people from the oppression of the Roman government and thereby restore Israel to its former glory.   But Jesus has other, bigger plans.  The Messiah will “undergo great suffering...be rejected...and be killed, and after three days rise again.”  And upon hearing this, what sounds like very bad news, Peter’s Messiah-styled parachute transforms into a useless backpack stuffed full of misguided expectations that have no power to save.

But all is not lost.  Though it’s not exactly what Peter has in mind, nonetheless, God’s Messiah is at work in the world bringing salvation and healing and wholeness - not through brute force, but through love.  A love that is so powerful and full of life that it even conquers death.   This is the good news for Peter and us all.

Sometimes, though, good news can sound like bad news, for Peter’s not the only one who clings to false backpacks thinking that they are saving parachutes.  Every Sunday together we all take a leap of faith by proclaiming that Jesus is God’s Messiah.  And, like Peter, we have certain ideas about what that means.  We may not have visions of Jesus overthrowing governments, but our ideas about God’s Messiah often look somewhat like a modern day superhero swooping in to save the day – to cure a disease, to mend a relationship, to provide a job, to stop an addiction, to fix whatever problem is at hand in a quick and decisive way.  When God doesn’t intervene the way we think God should we can feel as desperate as if we are falling from a plane without a proper parachute. 

And it is in such times as these that Jesus tells us, for our own sakes, to let go.  Let go of whatever we are holding onto in our lives – the backpacks chock full of expectations, agendas, hurts, fears, anger, even our need to control.  It has no power to save.  Let go, because "if any want to become my followers,” says Jesus, “let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.  For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.”  For when we let go, then we can more fully experience what has always been true.  That what keeps us safe and saved is not what we are holding onto but who is holding onto us.  We are always held and embraced by God’s love that has the power to save in any circumstance. 

This is what Jesus invites us to be a part of – God’s plan of salvation – by following his way of love.  Love that is more powerful than anything else – which I was reminded of a few weeks ago by one of our parishioners.  This person had just begun a new chapter in his life: kindergarten.  And one of the first assignments given to his class was for each student to imagine that they were a superhero.  Alright, so he imagined being a superhero and how cool it would be.  Then teacher asked everyone to pick one superpower they would possess as they took their place among the pantheon of superheros and to draw it.  Now I wasn’t in the class, but my guess is that most of the kids came up with the typical powers – the ability to fly or to be super strong or super fast or be able to disappear and then reappear.  All cool things.  But this young boy didn’t choose any of those.  Instead he got to work and drew a big star in red and blue markers.  In the middle of the star he made a smiley face (because superheroes should be happy, don’t you think?) and under the smiley face in the middle of the star was a heart.  What was his superpower?  Sharing love with people.  Of all the powers to choose from in this boy’s imagination, he recognized that love and the ability to share it was the most powerful of all.  Love was his superpower: love is his superpower.

And it’s ours, too, as we let go and let it flow in us and through us.  Although not the traditional kind, Jesus is our superhero who shows us a love  that is so powerful and so mighty that it is willing to undergo suffering, rejection, and even death so that in the end all pain, all struggle, all loss has no power and, parachute or not, we are all saved.  There’s no bad news only good news.  The good news of God’s great love known to us in Jesus the Messiah.


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