Sermon by Pastor Mike Buttonnn
Come and Play
Mark 6: 1-13
NRS Mark 6:1-13
He left that place and came to his hometown, and his disciples followed him. 2 On the sabbath he began to teach in the synagogue, and many who heard him were astounded. They said, "Where did this man get all this? What is this wisdom that has been given to him? What deeds of power are being done by his hands! 3Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary and brother of James and Joses and Judas and Simon, and are not his sisters here with us?" And they took offense at him. 4Then Jesus said to them, "Prophets are not without honor, except in their hometown, and among their own kin, and in their own house." 5And he could do no deed of power there, except that he laid his hands on a few sick people and cured them. 6And he was amazed at their unbelief. Then he went about among the villages teaching. 7He called the twelve and began to send them out two by two, and gave them authority over the unclean spirits.
8He ordered them to take nothing for their journey except a staff; no bread, no bag, no money in their belts; 9but to wear sandals and not to put on two tunics. 10He said to them, "Wherever you enter a house, stay there until you leave the place. 11If any place will not welcome you and they refuse to hear you, as you leave, shake off the dust that is on your feet as a testimony against them."12So they went out and proclaimed that all should repent. 13 They cast out many demons, and anointed with oil many who were sick and cured them.
Sisters and Brothers in Christ, may the Lord keep all your days and deeds in the grace and peace of Jesus the Messiah. Amen.
Every once in a while you come across something in Scripture that just kind of takes your breath away. It challenges old assumptions or maybe it makes you rethink what you thought you always knew. For example, in this morning’s gospel we hear it said that after visiting his old home town, Jesus could “do no deed of power there, except that he laid his hands on a few sick people and cured them. And he [Jesus] was amazed at their unbelief.” I’d call that breathtaking.
Most of the time we think of Jesus as the superhero’s superhero. Invincible, unstoppable, certainly able to raise the dead and, if he had a mind to, equally able to leap tall buildings in a single bound, Jesus is etched in our minds as having the power to do whatever he or his Father wills. But when he came calling on the village of his own upbringing, he ran into something like a brick wall. Although he was able to cure some sick people, it’s still shocking to hear that Jesus “could do no deed of power there.” Jesus marvels at their unbelief, but what does that mean?
It seems that the people of Galilee just couldn’t see Jesus outside the box in which they had always framed him. They asked, "Where did this man get all this? What is this wisdom that has been given to him? What deeds of power are being done by his hands!” On the surface, that may sound as though his old neighbors are just surprised to see this native son return with such a reputation in tow. But then we start to hear a little edge to their questions, especially when they asked, “Is this not the carpenter?” (Notice, it’s not “the carpenter’s son,” but just “the carpenter.”) In our world, a carpenter is a skilled craftsman, indispensible to framing a house or creating fine wood cabinetry, but not so much in Jesus’ world. Scholars John Dominic Crossan and Joerg Rieger suggest that a better translation for the Greek word tekton would be laborer, even day laborer. In effect, the folks back home are asking, “Isn’t this the guy who was way down the social ladder, going from job to job, living from hand to mouth?” Notice, too, that they don’t mention his father, only, “Is this not Mary’s son, and don’t we know his brothers and sisters from back in the day?’’ In other words, “Who is this guy with the iffy family to come around here with his big deeds and even bigger words, when we knew him back when he was nobody?” They just would not, or could not, imagine him in any other way.
We don’t often associate faith with imagination. Faith we put in the same category with creeds, liturgy, catechism, doctrine; you know, the serious stuff. Imagination, on the other hand, seems to have more to do with fun and games. When my son was in the second grade, his teacher asked the class, “What’s imagination?” He answered, “It’s like a toy box in your head.” (No, he didn’t get any of that from me; it’s all his mother.) But that’s not a bad definition. Imagination is what helps us get outside our heads, think new thoughts, and see new ways of approaching old problems.
Every year the Rice University School of Engineering offers one class that’s open to all students, both engineering and non-engineering. The course involves designing and building some type of machine/robot/gizmo that can perform a specific task, like carrying an egg across campus. Over the semester, the engineering students admit that they are often surprised when their classmates in the liberal arts come up with an interesting idea or two. In a news story on the class, the professor who teaches the course explained, “The non-engineering students don’t know what’s not possible.” That is to say, they don’t know what they can’t do, and consequently they can’t help but think outside the box, because they don’t know what the box is. And since no one’s told them what they can’t think, they occasionally come up with an idea that works, even though it may defy the old orthodoxies of engineering design.
This morning I want to suggest to you that when Jesus calls us to come and follow, in a way he’s really asking us to come and play. He’s asking us to use our imaginations and see the world in a different way by another set of metrics that fly in the face of conventional wisdom. For example, conventional wisdom teaches us to be prepared. Be prepared for the next storm. Be prepared for a medical emergency. Be prepared for when you can’t work and you have to live off your retirement. Be prepared when you head out on the road. When I go on vacation, I have to be careful not to overpack my bags because I’m so concerned that I may not have something I may need during the trip. But when Jesus sends his disciples out with authority over unclean spirits, does he give them a detailed packing list? Does he offer any in depth instructions on where they are to stay, or who they should see, or what they can expect? No, not really. He sends them out with a walking stick, the sandals on their feet and the shirt on their back -- “no bread, no bag, no money in their belts.” When I travel, I want to know exactly where I’m staying and just what the accommodations will be. But Jesus tells his followers, “Stay with whomever will take you in, and if no one receives you, shake the dust from off your feet and move on.” It’s not that Jesus is a terrible tour director. It’s not that he doesn’t know the rules of the road. It’s that he’s asking his disciples to play by a different set of rules.
Jesus came preaching, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news” (Mark 1:15). That’s our invitation to come and play now as though the kingdom is right on top of us. With Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, we refuse to accept the world’s economy, the world’s wisdom, the world’s politics as the final word, but instead, we join with Jesus in living the kingdom now. But how do we do that? What does that kind of life look like?
When we live as though love is stronger than hate, that’s living the kingdom. When we act as though life has the last word over death, that’s living the kingdom. When we trust that the truth will out no matter what lies are spread, that’s living the kingdom. When we set our moral compass to compassion rather than self-interest, that’s living the kingdom. When we forgive instead of revenge, when we beat the sword into the plowshare, when we seek justice rather than victory, when we hail as Lord the One who was to all outward appearances no more than an itinerant, peasant, day laborer, that’s living the kingdom.
In the Name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
