Image by andrydj on Freepik
Karen Hollis | February 25, 2024
Lent 2
Mark 8:31-38 Then Jesus began to tell them that the Son of Man must suffer many terrible things and be rejected by the elders, the leading priests, and the teachers of religious law. He would be killed, but three days later he would rise from the dead. As he talked about this openly with his disciples, Peter took him aside and began to reprimand him for saying such things. Jesus turned around and looked at his disciples, then reprimanded Peter. “Get away from me, Satan!” he said. “You are seeing things merely from a human point of view, not from God’s.” Then, calling the crowd to join his disciples, he said, “If any of you wants to be my follower, you must give up your own way, take up your cross, and follow me. If you try to hang on to your life, you will lose it. But if you give up your life for my sake and for the sake of the Good News, you will save it. And what do you benefit if you gain the whole world but lose your own soul? Is anything worth more than your soul? If anyone is ashamed of me and my message in these adulterous and sinful days, the Son of Man will be ashamed of that person when he returns in the glory of his Father with the holy angels.”
I was thinking about Gandalf this week. You know that scene where he’s standing on the bridge and he has just sent the Balrog falling down, down into the darkness. But his tail, still whipping around, comes up and takes Gandalf with it, down into the abyss. A couple of weeks ago when we celebrated Jesus’ transfiguration, I referred to this morning’s text, as the part of the story that happens right before Jesus takes the disciples up the mountain. From a preaching perspective, this morning’s text is much more difficult than the Transfiguration, so I thought it was a near miss . . . until I looked up the text for this week . . . and then I saw Gandalf on the bridge with the tail whipping his way. Not getting off so easily. So, down I dove down with them to see what the text has for us today . . .
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be reflections of your word to us today, in Christ’s name we pray. Amen
Gandalf and the Balrog are intertwined beyond space and time. Somewhere in his awareness, Gandalf knows he’s there, knows he poses an enormous threat to the Fellowship of the Ring, and he knows facing the Balrog is that from which he cannot turn away . . . though the context and timing are unclear . . . and it takes Gandalf considerable courage and the pressure of the moment to say yes. As the two physically fall from middle earth into the abyss, the rest of the Fellowship escape the cave and emerge in a state of mourning at the loss of their friend. They mourn a death, for how could it be anything else? They cannot imagine that Gandalf is losing his life so that he can gain a life more aligned with and more equipped for his purpose . . . a transformation that is crucial to their mission of destroying the ring.
I’m obviously a Tolkien fan – wonderful stories. They are hugely imaginative and profoundly relatable to the human experience. Set in the genre of sci-fi and fantasy, the narratives invite us into a world where we can explore some of these human themes that aren’t easy, but are real for us, nonetheless . . . like when Jesus deepens his teaching with the disciples, he cracks that threshold of discomfort and Peter, reliably reactive, takes him aside. Why is Peter challenging him? Mmm, it’s not completely clear. Here are a few possibilities: Jesus began this conversation a few verses back when he asks Peter who he says Jesus is. To which Peter replies: the Messiah. Now Jesus takes this idea and unpacks it some more by telling them – as the Messiah - he feels this calling from God, from which he cannot turn away, to walk through this horrific human experience. In apocalyptic writing the identity of the Messiah or the one designated with the title Son of Man, was kept secret until the fullness of their identity was revealed. So, the fact that he is speaking about this openly and publicly may have raised a flag for Peter. There was also no concept of individual resurrection in Judaism. Many believed everyone would be resurrected on the last day . . . but the idea that an individual would be resurrected for a particular purpose would be pretty shocking.
Suffice it to say, Jesus isn’t following the rules . . . and Peter, who is very aware of the rules, stands in his way, he stands in opposition. And Jesus calls him out for it. Our translation uses the word Satan – which might conjure an image of the Balrog . . . but that doesn’t accurately capture it. The word translated Satan is really the Adversary, the one who opposes and resists. Here, Peter stands in this role. While it’s easy to be critical of him, resistance is just a reality of being human and being part of the world. Resistance has an important role to play in human interactions. It can provide the pressure needed to take a second look, help us dig down for a deeper truth or learning, it can help us access our woundedness and pathway to healing.
As Peter steps into the role of Adversary, Jesus seems to see Peter’s attachment to the rules of their world and challenges him to look at the world again through the eyes of God. Jesus invites him to look deeper. Using language I introduced a few weeks ago, Peter could practice Kenosis. You remember this word? Kenosis is a practice of pouring ourselves out . . . Kenosis is self-emptying or self-limiting for the sake of making room for something or someone else. Peter could practice Kenosis by inviting his ego to take a step back and make room for some other truths to operate in him . . . truths that come from God. Through the practice of Kenosis, we can let go of the rules and expectations, social constructions of the external world, and connect with and rest in, the presence and truth of God within us.
We’ve been talking about this idea in Queer Bible Study – this tension between the external expectations and our inner truth that our culture also does a poor job of acknowledging and valuing.
Having raised the issue with Peter, Jesus turns to everyone and teaches them that an essential element of the path he leads is connecting with our inner truth. The language he uses is take up your cross. The image I often see in my mind is Jesus carrying his physical cross to the place of the skull. “Take up” also means elevate.1 When Jesus talks about the cross, he lifts up the thing in his life from which he cannot turn away . . . the path that leads to his crucifixion. He turns to his disciples and asks them to seek their own inner truth . . . what is the essential element to your life? From what are you unable to turn away? Are you connected with that truth in you? Or, as he says – and this is a paraphrase - “If you choose the expectations of this world and abandon the purpose of your soul, is it worth it?”
I’ve been thinking about it and the primary thing I think I cannot turn away from in my life is meeting my fear with courage. I was born with a fear I cannot explain with the events of my life. I was born afraid of what humans can do to one another at their worst and afraid for my physical safety. I have spent my life leaning into that fear, and every time I do, I receive life on the other side. I never thought of it as Kenosis, but I suppose that’s what it is – emptying myself of fear and making room for life. Dying to fear and finding life. Everything that has followed in my life has been because of that path.
I think about Mother Theresa who couldn’t turn away from the untouchables in Calcutta. I think about Greta Thunberg who can’t turn away from climate action. And another story I heard about a woman who couldn’t turn away from adopting and nurturing 2 children from India.
For me and perhaps also for you, there hasn’t been one moment of emptying or dying to a former reality and opening myself to a truer one . . . it’s kind of happened bit by bit along the way. This path is certainly supported by practices of Kenosis, like centering prayer or a similar kind of meditation where we invite the ego, who works overtime to serve us well, to take a breath and step out of focus . . . and try to bring into focus a deeper truth.
I was listening to a podcast this week called On Being. Krista Tippett was interviewing John O’Donnohue before he passed in 2008. He said something profound: “There is a place in you where you have never been wounded, where there is still a sureness in you, where there is a seamlessness in you, where there is confidence and tranquility in you. The intention of prayer and spirituality and love is now and again to visit that inner sanctuary.”
In that space of sanctuary, reality looks different. That which seems impossible to the burdened ego, finds possibility in the space of wholeness and safety. Perhaps it is out of this space that Jesus is able to say yes to his unimaginable path. Perhaps he is inviting us to use this space as a resource as we listen for what is true and essential within us. Listening in every season, listening again and again as life continues to unfold within and around us.
My intent in this refection was to talk through the whole passage. We come to the final line and I don’t have a whole lot to say about Jesus telling people if they’re ashamed of him, then the Son of Man will be ashamed. I think this is Mark, in his usual hurried fashion, trying to light a fire under people to join the movement before the end of the world as they know it. The if/then attitude doesn’t make sense in the larger narrative of God’s love and God accompanying us along the journey. The invitation Jesus makes prior to that statement is so tender and holy . . . I want to leave us there in the space of making room within for our own truth to speak. Thanks be to God