Do Not Keep Them Silent!

In the late fall of 2001, a young man in the midst of his junior year at Oklahoma Baptist University saw a beautiful young lady across the cafeteria. Hair was the color of the rainbow and she wore a Super Cabbie shirt with a long-sleeve shirt underneath. In her hand she held a freshly poured glass of Dr. Pepper and made her way back to her friends. The young man shouted, “Hey, I'm going to date you one day!” Sadly, she did not hear him and his friends shook their heads and said, “Come on, man. Be quiet. You're going to embarrass yourself.”

A few weeks later, the young lady sat down at the table of the young man. Taken back at his luck, he smiled and introduced himself. She, though, was not there to see him and began to talk with his roommate. As she got up to leave, the young man again muttered, not as bravely as before, “Yea, I'm going to date you one day.” A month passed and the young man found himself at the local bowling alley with his roommate and there, to his surprise, was this same young lady. Sadly, again, she was not there to see him but was there with another guy. This time the young man did not mutter or speak aloud. Instead, in his mind he thought, “One day, we're going to date.”

Again, a month passed and the young man found himself at a little get together with some friends and there on the couch sat the young lady. A couple of hours passed and while others in the kitchen talking about non-serious matters, the young man sat down at the opposite end of the couch from the young lady and asked, “So, you married?” “No,” she said plainly. “Engaged?” he asked. Again very plainly she answered, “No.” The young man looked at the television and simply replied, “Cool.” Two weeks later they went out on their first official date. Six months later they were engaged. A year and a half later they were married. And that's how I met Lacy.

Jesus came to Jericho, the place where it seems a lot of cool stuff happens. As Jesus and his disciples were leaving the city, along with a huge crowd that followed, a blind man, Bartimaeus, was sitting on the roadside begging. When he heard it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout, “Jesus, Son of David! Have mercy on me!”

Many began to rebuke him. “Be quiet!” They said. But he continued to shout, “Jesus, Son of David! Have mercy on me!” and they continued to rebuke him, “Shut up! Can't you see he's busy?” “Yes, stop yelling. He doesn't have time for you!” “That is not how you get the attention of the Messiah.” “Bartimaeus, if you wish to see Jesus you need to wait in line or give your number to Peter and he will set up an appointment.”

But Bartimaeus continued to shout, “Jesus, Son of David! Have mercy on me!” Jesus stopped and said, “Call him.” So they called the blind man, “Cheer up! On your feet! He's calling you!”

Throwing his cloak aside, he jumped to his feet and came to Jesus. “What do you want me to do for you?” asked Jesus. “I want to see.”

“Go. Your faith has healed you.” Immediately he received his sight and followed Jesus along the road.

They say silence is golden. At least Frankie Vallie and the Four Seasons do. Here though we see that silence is not golden; loudness is. We've all been taught and try to teach the moral ethic that if you want something you do not shout, you ask politely. If you would like to get Jesus' attention the proper moral ethical way is, “Excuse me, Jesus. Sorry to interrupt you but I would like for you to have mercy on me.” But Bartimaeus does not follow this ethic and is not overly polite about getting the attention of Jesus.

You can almost see him sitting up against the wall, his cardboard sign beside him with a tin cup in hand. He hears the commotion of a large crowd and figures something big is happening. He asks a passerby, “What's going on today?” “Oh, you haven't heard? That's Jesus. He's getting ready to leave town.” Suddenly he lets out a shout, “Jesus! Son of David! Have mercy on me!” This shout, louder than a mother yelling at her son who cut down the neighbor's cherry tree, carries across the crowd and to the ears of Jesus.

Fortunately though there are some people who have been raised right and they rebuke Bartimaeus. “Shh. Do not yell. That's rude.” But he doesn't listen to them and continues to shout loudly, “Hey, Jesus! Have mercy on me!” The shout reaches Jesus and he tells him to come over and he asks what he would like of him. Bartimaeus doesn't ask for the world but just a simple request to see. Jesus responds to his request and says, “Your faith has healed you.” and Bartimaeus could see once again.

In so many ways we are like the crowd, those of us whom have been raised in the church. We know the proper church edict. We know to wear ties on Sundays. We know all the good ol' hymns and good prayers. We know how to behave during the service. We know not to shout and not to interrupt the preacher. We know that it is impolite to snore while in “deep prayer.” Those of us whom have been raised in church know how to behave right. We wouldn't dare to interrupt Jesus while he was speaking. We would shout at him and we would quickly silence those who did. And we would miss the miracle.

If they townspeople had been successful in silencing Bartimaeus, they would have missed the miracle. They would have missed the lame made well. They would have denied Bartimaeus this new life and he would not have become a follower of Christ. They would have been stumbling blocks to an eternal life for Bartimaeus. They would have missed the miracle.

How often have missed the miracle because we purposely or inadvertently stopped someone from encountering Jesus? How often have been like the crowd and stopped those who walk inside the church from becoming members of Christ's community because they were different: because they were the wrong the color or from the wrong side of the tracks? Or because who they loved or because of what they wore? How often have we been the crowd and rebuked those shouting for Jesus' mercy?

Tough questions to think on, are they not? It is hard for us to look back and see how we've done it but our history is full of instances in which we've blocked someone from receiving the mercy of Christ. In fact the balcony that hovers over us reminds of the time when we considered certain people two-thirds of a human and seen as property instead of children of God. When the time came for them to cry out for mercy and to be seen as equals many churches, especially in the south, argued for state's rights and segregation, saying, “The bible is clear about this.”

On a smaller scale we silence those who are searching God's grace. There once was a husband and wife who worked at their local Boys and Girls club. They volunteered their time to help minister to many of the young men and women who came into the club. For six months they spent a lot time with a young man whose father was an alcoholic and going through detox. A couple of years later this man and woman decided to redo the tile in their kitchen. They called the tile company who said they had a local man who could do the work immediately. Then they gave them his name.

It was the young man's father. Having known the man's history and his relationship with the son, the couple decided to let the man do the job; however, the husband decided to watch the man like a hawk. He had the company send over a written estimate so he couldn't get swindled and for three days the husband would check on the man's work to make sure he wasn't cheating them.

At the end of the three days the husband walked by and casually said, “When you're done, come by my study and I'll write you a check.”

“Oh,” the man said, “I need to talk to you about the money. I'll talk to you when I'm done.”

The husband stormed upstairs to the study and angrily reported to his wife, “I knew it. I knew he was going to try and cheat us out of some money. Well, I have a signed contract, and I am not going to pay him one dime more than we agreed.” The husband continued to rant for another few minutes and bragged, “I'm going to leave the door open so you can see how I handle this guy. I will not pay him more than we agreed to.”

At 5 pm the tile layer walked into the husband's study, sat down directly across from him and started to hand him the bill and said, “A couple of years ago I was drinking too much. I am an alcoholic and was at a very low point in my life. I almost lost my family because of my drinking. I mistreated my wife and my children, especially my oldest son. But you and your wife spent a lot of time with him at a critical moment in his life when he could have gone either way. Shortly after that time I went to AA, and I've been sober ever since. Because of you and your wife, I still have a relationship with my son. I've never been able to thank you, but I'm thanking you now.” He handed him the bill for $350 with “Paid in full” written across it (Mike Yaconelli, Dangerous Wonder pg 144-145).

In a time when silencing people is popular and promoted as the right thing to do; let us be a people who hear the cries of Bartimaeus and say, “Jesus is calling for you. Cheer up! Get up and go to him.”  

Best in the World!

James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came forward to him and said, “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.” And he said them, “What is it you want me to do for you?” And they said to him, “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.” But Jesus said to them, “You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?”

They replied, “We are able.” Then Jesus said to them, “The cup that I drink you will drink; and the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized; but to sit at my right hand or at my left is not mine to grant, but it is for those for whom it has been prepared.”

When the ten heard this, they began to be angry with James and John. So Jesus called them and said to them, “You know that among the Gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. But it is not so among you; but whoever wishes to be great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave to all. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.” (Mark 10:35-45 NRSV).

If it seems like we've heard this before, we have. Just a few short chapters before, Jesus tells his disciples, as they discussed who among them was the greatest, that the greatest is the one who serves. Here, we have the sons of Zebedee, James and John making a request of Jesus. They want to be the greatest and they want to sit at the right and left hands, respectively, of Jesus in his glory. It is an admirable request and we cannot really fault them for wanting to be the best disciples in the world. Their request though will cost them something.

Jesus tells him that while he cannot say who gets to sit at his right or his left, he asks them if they are able to drink from the cup he drinks and baptized how he is baptized. He asks them if they are willing to emulate him. The price of being the greatest is heavy and it requires a change in understanding of the term greatest. Being the greatest in the kingdom of God means that you are going to be the last, you will be the servant to all.

One of my weaknesses is that I think I'm the best in the world at everything I do. I would be lying if I told you that my goal was not to be the greatest pastor you have ever had. I'd be lying if I said that my desire when my tenure as your pastor comes to an end wasn't to have you look back and say, “Best in the world!.” I have this inner desire to be the best in the world and I will do anything to accomplish that. I have been like that since I was a kid in grade school. I wanted to be the best at football so I would go to football camps. I wanted to be the best miler in Longview, TX, I would devote myself to becoming the best. I am the best son, father, husband, friend, pastor, preacher, writer, or whatever else I choose to do. Don't believe me? Ask my mom. And if I want to be the best then you can bet that I'm going to put in the effort to be the best in the world.

My family is very competitive, especially on my father's side. My cousins are some of the most competitive people I know. They have to, like me, be the best at everything they do and they compete with one another to be the best. Whether it is who can stomach the hottest hot wings or who is the best golfer or best bowler or best at laser tag, they will compete with one another to find out.

The week of my cousin's wedding, we all gathered in Georgia and spent a week together before the wedding. It was the first time the entire family had been together since my wedding two years before. During the week, my cousins were in heavy competition with one another. My brother and I sort of jump in and out of it depending on what the competition is. One day we all went to an indoor arcade place with miniature golf, laser tag, and an assortment of video games. We all decided to play a game of laser tag and afterward we all compared our scores. Each cousin ended up besting the other and David and I walked over and asked who won. Before they looked at their score sheets we said, “Oh that's right, we did.” David and I ended up tied for 1^st place. How you ask? Well we went over to a corner and just shot each other for the entire 10 minutes. Best in the world!

The best in the world.

It's a sham, you know. It's not real. It's a false sense of bravado to believe we can be the absolute best in the world. It's a lie to believe that we can be the greatest in the world. Why? Because we judge greatness on which tax bracket we fall under. We judge greatness by who is able to afford the nicest things or give the most. We look at the wealthy man giving out of his wealth to the church budget and say, “That man is great. God has blessed him because he is able to give so much.” We look at the poor widow who gives out of her poverty and say, “Poor thing. God has not blessed her like the wealthy man. She must not try very hard. She must be lazy. She could get a good paying job and be just like him but she just doesn't try.” We buy into the lie that being great means having the most stuff or receiving the most recognition. And here's the kicker, the church is one of the biggest proponents of this lie.

We preach from our pulpits that our sole concern is your soul. We get you to come down that aisle and accept Jesus as your savior and get soaking wet through baptism and then we send you on your way saying, “Now, remember, if you are a good Christian and you are following God's commands, God will bless you. And you will know God's blessings because your mortgage will be paid off. You will get a pay raise at your job. Your barren wife will give birth to a child. You will drive the newest Lexus and own the newest iPhone. Everyone will know you are obeying God because you will be able to flash your Good Christian Award every time you go to Disney World.” We tell you that greatness is exactly what the world defines it as. We even manipulate Christ's definition of greatness and give awards to those who are the best servants in the world. We make it a contest and promote the best church member who serves the best. And the next year, everyone is serving because they want that good old church award. We encourage you, even though we do not want to admit it, to compete for the world's imaginary brass rings just for someone to say, “Great job. God must really love you.”

We want to sit at the right and left hands of Jesus. We all do. It's a part of our human nature and desire to be out in the front, to be recognized for being the best in the world. The problem is though we have it all wrong. We have it backwards. If we want to be the greatest then being in the front of the bus is not where we belong because the great sit in the back.

I am amazed at Jesus. I marvel at his responses to tough questions and how he handles conflict. When James and John make their request of him, he doesn't condemn them. He does not say, “You are out of place. You are being selfish. Do not ever ask such a thing again!” Instead he does something different altogether. He says, “Oh, you want to be the greatest. You want to be the best in the world. You want to be significant and you want to matter. Good. But I do not want you to be first in wealth or fame. Instead be the first to give up your life for a friend. Be the first to love the unloved. Be the first to go the extra mile and give your cloak to the cold and naked. Be the first to care and serve. If you want to be the greatest of them all then you must be the slave to them all. That's what it means to be great.”

My favorite episode of M*A*S*H is “Blood Brothers.” I like it for many reasons: 1) Patrick Swayze guest stars as a wounded soldier who learns that is in the early stages of Leukemia. 2) The episode deals with the honest struggle of Father Mulcahy with his desire to be recognized by the visiting Cardinal. The good Father is informed by Col. Potter that a very prestigious Cardinal is coming to visit the 4077^th. Father Mulcahy begins to stress out of the impending visit and while attempting to work on an inspirational sermon, one that will truly receive the recognition of this Cardinal, he is called away to talk with the patient who learned of his recent illness. After staying up all night talking with the young man, Father Mulcahy makes his way to the church service in his bathrobe and tells this story:

“I want to tell you about two men. Each facing his own crisis. The first man you know rather well. The second is a patient here. Well, the first man thought he was facing a crisis. But what he was really doing was trying to impress someone. He was looking for recognition, encouragement, a pat on the back. And whenever that recognition seemed threatened he reacted rather childishly. Blamed everyone for his problems but himself because he was thinking only of himself. But the second man was confronted with the greatest crisis mortal man can face, the loss of his life. I think you will agree that the second man had every right to be selfish. But instead he chose to think not of himself, but of a brother. A brother! When the first man saw the dignity and the selflessness of the second man, he realized how petty and selfish he had... I... I... I had been. It made me see something more clearly than I've ever seen it before. God didn't put us here for that pat on the back. He created us so he could be here himself. So he could exist in the lives of those he created, in his image.” (M*A*S*H Episode: Blood Brothers, 1981).

Last week I said the center of life for the church in America, for Christians in America is not Christ but stuff. We base each others' worth, value, and greatness on the amount of stuff we can afford or own. The more stuff we have, the more we own the more recognition we receive and the more recognition we receive the greater we feel. The issue is that the gospel message gets lost. Salvation becomes a means to an end and not a way of life. Servant-hood is a photo-op session to give the impression that we care about others when in truth we do not. We only care about ourselves and that is the message of our world and we have bought into it.

We have bought into a lie and soon we will realize that our earthly greatness barely measures the greatness of the meek, the pure in heart, the poor, the weak, the sick, the lame, and the lost in the kingdom of heaven. If you want to be great then drink from the cup which Christ drank. If you want to be great sell your stuff and give the money to the poor. If you want to be great roll up your sleeves and get your hands dirty by feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, housing the homeless, visiting the sick and home-bound. If you want to be great then be the least and that is one of our greatest struggles.

There once was a man born many years ago to a poor carpenter and his wife. He grew up and followed in his father's footsteps by becoming a carpenter himself. One day, when he was about 30, he left home to follow his calling. He preached wonderful messages and performed miraculous healings. He preached that the kingdom of heaven was like a small mustard seed. He preached that the blessed are the poor, the pure in heart, the righteous, the least, the lame, the meek, the peacekeepers. He preached that the kingdom of heave was a like a banquet filled with the lost, the sick, the lame, and the poor; the least of these in his society. He wore plain clothes and lived off the generosity of others. One day he was betrayed by a close friend and he was crucified by a the powerful and the great. He never resisted and on the third day, he should what true greatness was and he became the pioneer and perfecter of our faith. He is the one we are to set as our example and run this race as his did.

If there seems to be a bit of frustration in my voice, it's because I am frustrated. In a few weeks we will all go to the polls and do our American duty and vote for the next President and each one promises to make us great. Each one promises that if you vote for them they will work to make you just like them. They'll get you a job with a big salary and help you move up into their tax bracket. The problem is, I do not care to be like Mitt Romney or Barack Obama. I do not care to subscribe to their understanding of greatness. I do not want, when my time comes, God to say to me, “Wow. You sure did have a lot of stuff. Lots of awards, money and I see you drove a nice car. Oh and look you had your house paid off. Good for you. Looks like you left a lot behind.” Instead I want God to say, “Job will done my good and faithful servant. Now let's step back and welcome in the least of these.” I want to be great as the kingdom of God defines greatness, not as the empire of American capitalism defines it. I want the church to be the definition of greatness in the terms and deeds of the kingdom of heaven, not as the world defines it.

It is hard to give up what we have. It is hard to fully change and allow the grace of God to transform us and drink from the cup of Christ. But that is my greatest desire and I hope that it will your greatest desire too. I hope, we as the church, can change our way of life, our way of understanding greatness and live as people who belong to the kingdom of God.

In his sermon on this very gospel story and speaking about the idea of the Drum Major Instinct in which we all have the natural desire to lead and be out front and get the recognition. Dr. King said this, “If you get someone to deliver my eulogy, tell them not to talk too long. Tell them not to mention that I have Nobel Peace Prize-that isn't important. Tell them not to mention that I have three or four hundred other awards-that's not important. Tell them not to mention where I went to school. I'd like somebody to mention on that day that Martin Luther King, Jr. tried to give his life serving others. I'd like for somebody to say that day that Martin Luther King, Jr. tried to love somebody. I want you to say that day I tried to be right on the war question. I want you to able to say that day that I did try to feed the hungry. And I want you to be able to say that day that I in my life to clothe those who were naked. I want you to say on that day that I try in my life to visit those who were in prison. I want you to say that I tried to love and serve humanity. Yes, if you want to say that I was drum major, say that I was drum major for justice. Say that I was a drum major for peace. I was drum major for righteousness. And all of the other shallow things will not matter.” (Martin Luther King, “Drum Major Instinct” 1968).

Yes. I want the church to be on the right and left side of Jesus but we won't get there by who we vote for or how much stuff we own or have. We won't get there by how many awards we've been given. We won't get there for Sunday school perfect attendance. Jesus is saying, “You want to be great? Then be the servant to all.” May we have the courage to do so.

Risky Business That Jesus Fellar

You could say that I met Jesus when I was six years old at least that's what my baptism certificate officially says. You could say over the next several years I grew to know Jesus and meet him in a variety of ways. I remember once hearing his voice, or what I assumed was his voice, very audibly on run at summer camp. I heard him distinctly say, “I want you to quit football and just run track.”

Jesus obviously wasn't a Texan because a Texas boy going into his freshman year in high school, with a father as a coach, just doesn't stop playing football. Even if it Jesus told him to because no good Texas Christian boy would ever hear Jesus say such a thing. But Jesus said it.

I believe Christians understand the tough demands Jesus makes of them. I believe we all have an understanding that giving our life to Christ means we are going to face some difficult decisions and make some difficult choices. I also believe we make our choices depending on the cost of the choice. Sure, I could have quit football but I wasn't going to, at least not until I had to decide which sport was going to get me out of town and into college. The risk wasn't worth it, in my mind. Likewise, we make choices everyday where we say to Jesus, “I hear what you're asking of me but it's too much.”

As Jesus was setting out on a journey, a man ran up and knelt before him, and asked him, “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus said to him, “Why do you call me good? Not is good but God alone. You know the commandments: “You shall not murder; You shall not commit adultery; You shall not steal; You shall not bear false witness; You shall not defraud; Honor your mother and father.”

He said to him, “Teacher, I have kept all these since my youth.”

Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said, “You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.”

When he heard this, he was shocked and went away grieving, for he had many possessions. Then Jesus look around and said to his disciples, “How hard it will be for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God! It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God” (Mark 10:17-25 NRSV).

It is hard for us to give up what we have to follow Jesus. It's even hard for ministers to give up what we have and follow Jesus. It is hard. Taking up the cross and following Jesus is not an easy task. It is demanding and it comes at a cost. We don't talk about the cost of following Jesus very much, or if we do we do so in a patronizing, graceless way. We talk down to those who walk away grieving or those who doubt or those who fear what following Christ means. But in our story today, Jesus doesn't talk down to the man, who Matthew later says is a young man, and Luke later says is a rich young ruler. In fact, upon hearing the man say, “I have kept all of these since the days of my youth.” Mark writes that Jesus loved him.

Jesus, looking at him, loved him. If we're not careful we will miss the phrase. Matthew and Luke do not keep the phrase, “Jesus, looking at him, loved him” in their retelling. Why does Mark write this phrase? I think it's because the man ran to Jesus. In the other two retellings, the man is already there or he makes his way to Jesus. In Mark, he runs and kneels before him. The man seeks out Jesus and I think this is important for our text because we are all seeking Jesus in some form. We're all seeking in some form salvation, redemption, forgiveness, grace, mercy, healing, and above all, love. The thing is we are seeking the mercy and grace of Jesus without the expectations of following Jesus. We are all seeking salvation in Christ; we're just looking for the path of least resistance.

Following God's commandments are easy to do until God asks us to do something we do not want to do, like loving our enemy and praying for those who persecute us; or feed the hungry and clothe naked, things that actually cost us something or require us to get our hands a little dirty and participate in the life Christ has given us.

I do not doubt the sincerity of the young man, as I don't doubt the sincerity of each person who becomes a follower of Christ. I truly believe we are sincere but when it comes to crossing the icy rivers we tend to tell Jesus, “You go on to the other side, I'll wait here until a boat comes by.” We are all like this rich man. We become sad when Jesus asks us to do just a little bit more. It is a part of our weakness as humans. It is a part of our sin.

But here is where the text shows us Christ's unfailing faithfulness, “Looking at him, he loved him.” Even when we walk away Christ's love stays with us. Christ doesn't walk away from us. He understands the difficulty of following him. He understands that for those who have something to lose it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle. We've been conditioned to be protective over what we believe is ours. Our money, our homes, our valuables, our family, ourselves, our church, we've been conditioned to believe that because we built it, earned it, or birthed it, we own it. And is hard to let go of what we believe is ours.

It reminds me of a story:

Clarence Jordan, that great Southern, social prophet, visited an integrated church in the Deep South. Jordan was surprised to find a relatively large church so thoroughly integrated, not only black and white but also rich and poor; and this was in the early sixties, too. Jordan asked the old country preacher, "How did you get the church this way?"

"What way?" the preacher asked. Clarence went on to explain his surprise at finding a church so integrated, and in the South, too.

The preacher said, "Well, when our preacher left our small church, I went to the deacons and said, 'I'll be the preacher.' The first Sunday as preacher, I opened the book and read, 'As many of you as has been baptized into Jesus has put on Jesus and there is no longer any Jews or Greeks, slaves or free, males or females, because you all is one in Jesus.' Then I closed the book and I said, 'If you are one with Jesus, you are one with all kind of folks. And if you ain't, well, you ain't.'"

Jordan asked what happened after that. "Well," the preacher said, "the deacons took me into the back room and they told me they didn't want to hear that kind of preaching no more."

Jordan asked what he did then. "I fired them deacons," the preacher roared.

"Then what happened?" asked Jordan.

"Well," said the old hillbilly preacher, "I preached that church down to four. Not long after that, it started growing. And it grew. And I found out that revival sometimes don't mean bringin' people in but gettin' people out that don't dare to love Jesus." (Hauerwas and Willimon, Where Resident Aliens Live, Nashville: Abingdon, 1996, p. 103).

I believe we want to love Jesus and follow him. I believe we truly do; but the hard truth we all struggle with is that we do not dare to love Jesus fully. We, in country built on the idea that are worth is measured by what we have, struggle to love a Christ whose love is unconditional but requires us to give up something. In the case of the rich man that struggle was to give up his wealth and give the profits to the poor. He was to become poor and in his poverty he would find fullness in Christ. That, I believe, is the struggle of the American church and Christians in America.

The center of life for the church in America, for Christians in America is not Christ but stuff. We base the worth of a Christian life and the worth of a church based on much they have and how many attend. The more we accumulate the more we feel valuable and safe and perhaps feel loved or blessed. The story of the rich man shows us that the center of life, not just everlasting life, but life itself is not found in one's possessions, it is found in the unconditional love of Christ.

Once we are able to reconcile the false narrative of living well means living in style with the true narrative of a follower of Christ, our defenses are taken away and we are able to give of ourselves freely when Christ asks of us. No longer do we perceive our stuff as our stuff; instead we see it as a gift, a gift to be shared with others; and our walls slowly come down and we no longer see each other as competition or as enemies but as friends.

Being a follower Christ comes with great risk. It is easier to live in the world and be of the world than it is to live in the world and not be of the world. Giving up ourselves to follow Christ requires the faith that the risk is worth the reward. The pain of following Christ is over matched by the marvelous glory of being in his presence.

May we become a people, when asked to, give of ourselves as a gift to others as Christ gave of himself.  

Fools Are Soon Parted

There was once a wealthy man who had earned his money through schemes, investments, and off of the backs of hard working persons. He was the CEO of a large investment company who took a portion of the recent bailout stimulus and after firing several employees, gave himself a $232 million raise before selling the company.

One day, while making his yearly visit to the doctor, the man was diagnosed with a inoperable tumor and given six months to live. As one would after learning how much time they had left before they died, he began to take a hard look at his life. Surrounded by his cars, paintings, summer homes, private jets, pools, he discovered how empty his life was. There alone, without friends or family, he knew he would die and none of what he had acquired mattered. He immediately got up, withdrew every single dollar he had from the bank, and begin to make amends.

He set up a pension fund for all of his employees he had let go which included a $50,000 gift. He donated large portions to charities such as Habitat for Humanity, United Way, Boys and Girls Clubs and to the cities local food pantry. He gave away his best suits to those seeking jobs. He gave away his cars to those in need of transportation, paying off the insurance. He randomly paid off mortgages for strangers he met while riding his bicycle. He even opened his homes to several homeless families as well as other homeless.

5 months had passed and it would seem he had begun to change his legacy, if you will. He was happier and more at ease. He seemed at peace with his life. During those months, not only had he shared his wealth, he also formed deep relationships with several people he helped. He also sought forgiveness for the wrong he caused others. As the end of the six months came to an end, on that last night, he laid down in his bed, closed his eyes and prepared to take his last breath.

At the last hour, Jesus appeared to the man saying, “Tonight, you were supposed to lose your life. However, because you have shared your wealth and come to the understanding that money and wealth is not everything. You now understand one's life does not consist in the abundance of possessions. Tonight, instead of taking your life, I give it back to you. You are healed, now go and continue to live.”

The next morning, the man made his way to his doctor and after a few hours discovered that the inoperable tumor had disappeared and he was indeed healed. He returned home and sitting on the couch he observed how empty his life had become. He yearned for things that were not there and he stared at the pile of money on his coffee table, wondering where it all went. Pouting the loss of his fortune and his sudden healing, he hears a knock at the door.

At the door stood a man dressed in ragged clothes and a worn out suitcase. “Excuse me, sir. I was told by the kind ladies at the shelter that you have spare rooms that folks like us can stay in for a night. May I stay the night here?”

The man looked at his guest and at his empty room and the pile of money, “Sorry, I can't allow that to happen. My circumstances have changed and I am no longer allowing strangers to use my place. Please go away.” He closed the door and went about his business.

Over the next few days the man manipulated and worked his way back to get back a majority of the wealth he had given away. Soon his empty house was full once more with paintings, stereos, TVs, and other fine materials. One night the Lord appeared to the man saying, “You fool! I returned your life to you because you seemed to have understood that life was more than possessions and wealth. When you knew your life was ending you sought to make amends and care for those who less fortunate. Now that your life has been returned to you, you have reverted back to your old ways of living and have learned nothing. Tonight I have come to claim your life and now the things that you've reclaimed and owned whose will they be?

“So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God” (Luke 12:21 NRSV).  

Do We Really Care?

The top answer in a majority of surveys given by church strategists to non-church people can be summed up with one question for the church: “Do they care?”

Do the people who are not the greeters care enough to come over and say hi to me?

Do they care enough to have something for my children? Do they care about my children? Do they care about my family? Do they care about each other? Do they care enough to show up and provide a safe environment for my child to experience God? Do they care?

Do we care?

After explaining to the disciples the kingdom's understanding of greatness, he calls over a child to him, saying, “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.” The child may represent the least of these, for a child is defenseless and in need of protection and are unable to care for themselves without the help of the community. No matter how many times they say they can do it themselves. But let's take Jesus' words at face value and ask ourselves, “Is there room for children and youth in our worship? In our church? In our lives?” (Mark 9:37 NRSV).

Is there room for them to be who they are discovering themselves to be? Is there room for them at our communion table? Is there room for them in our pews?

We may be quick to answer the question with a hearty “yes” but do we really?

Immediately following his declaration on welcoming a child, Jesus (after a discussion with John on the importance of welcoming and allowing others to minister in Jesus' name even though they are not a part of their group) says, “If any of you put a stumbling block before one these little ones who believe in me, it would be better for you if a great milestone were hung around your neck and thrown into the sea.” (9:42)

Again, we can read more into it and say the little ones can refer to others such as young Christians or those who are defenseless but for our purposes today and the question we've been asked let us read it as it reads. Tied into the notion that we are to welcome children because one who does welcomes Christ, we can see the importance of making room for children in our worship, in our church, and in our lives. Jesus expands the question: Do we care enough about our children not put stumbling blocks in front of them as they grow in Christ?

After responding to a question about divorce, Jesus witnessed the disciples turn the children away who were being brought to him so that he might bless them. When he saw this, he was indignant and said to them, “Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs.” (10:13-14)

We, adults, sometimes believe we have all the answers or know what's best for our children and teenagers. Sometimes we do. Sometimes having walked where they are walking gives us an insight into their lives and allows us to offer a unique perspective. However, sometimes we don't. Sometimes what we believe to be best for them is really just best for ourselves and is more about us as adults than it is about them. We can become clouded by our experiences that we do not allow our children and teenagers to create unique experiences for themselves, specifically when it comes to following Christ.

Children are playful, inquisitive, loud, and full of energy. They do not obey the rules we give them very well nor do they do what they are told right away. They're curiosity causes them to build spaceships out of refrigerator boxes and pretend to explore the galaxies. They ask questions and their favorite word is “why”. They remind of us our own childhood, for better or worse, and they frustrate us. Our societal rules do not allow us to remain children forever. We confuse childlike with childish and we slowly stamp out their creativity and childlike curiosity. We do not do this on purpose. In fact, I believe we try to avoid doing this but eventually the responsibilities of adulthood catch up to us and we forget what it's like to be 9 or 13 or 16.

Caring for our children and our youth is more than providing ministries for them or events for them to attend or programs to get the out of worship on a Sunday morning. It goes beyond that to a place where we are continuously lifting them up and allowing them space to encounter Jesus in a way that transforms their lives. This means honoring their child-likeness and perhaps being a little more childlike ourselves.

I was probably 16 or 17 when I experienced a remarkable moment in church. I was sitting down towards the front in the center pews and to the left when a little girl got up from her seat to go to the bathroom. On her way out, she turned and walked up to the pulpit and tugged on the pastor's jacket. He stopped in the middle of his serious sermon and bent down to her; with his microphone on we heard her say, “This is for you” and she handed him a drawing she had just finished. He graciously accepted it and hugged the little girl and she went on her way. Normal church protocol would have been to ignore the child or send her back to her parents and the publicly patronize them about control and proper parenting; however, the pastor fully accepted the child as she was and allowed this holy moment to take place.

We adults are serious people. We get caught up in our adulthood and everything is a serious as serious can be. This seriousness passes down to our children and our youth and they eventually become serious people sooner than they should. Of course we know there are times to be serious and we know serious moments exist but those moments do a wonderful job of being defined to us by the moments themselves. We cause our little ones to stumble when we get too serious.

Craig McNair Wilson performs a one man play of Jesus' life called, “The Fifth Gospel.” Craig plays all the characters: the disciples, Jesus, Pilate, the leper, the blind man, and so forth. One particular scene stands out in his performance. Jesus and the disciples were all in the river taking baths when John reaches down to the floor of the river and brings up a huge mud pie. John takes careful aim and SPLAT! He nails Peter in the face. John immediately ducks underwater as if he is scrubbing. Peter reaches for his mud pie, takes aim and WHAM! Peter nails Matthew. James wastes no time responding with his own mud pie, and soon bedlam breaks out among the disciples. A full fledged mud pie fight is under way. Simon the Zealot lets loose a huge one at John's face. John ducks and the mud rocket hits Jesus right in the middle of his forehead. All the disciples freeze. After a long silence Thomas leans over to Simon and says, “You idiot! You just hit the Son of God with a mud pie...he's going to turn us into turtles!” Jesus gazes over the disciples and with a knowing smile, stops and stares down Simon. Jesus reaches down into the mud and comes up with a very large mud pie and SMACK! Simon is hit squarely on his the top of his head, and as the mud slithers down his face, everyone, including Jesus, breaks into laughter.¹

Jesus knew how to play as well as how to pray; how to laugh as well as cry; how to be serious about life but not take himself too seriously. When Jesus says, “Anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a child will never enter it.” (10:15), e is reminding us, as adults, not to take ourselves too seriously. Childlike faith or the faith of a child is not about accepting what we are told as fact or not asking questions. Instead it is about asking questions and asking why and then being okay with whatever answer we are given or not given. Being like a child means for us to keep our spirit young and full of life. Jesus came to show us the kingdom and to save us and that includes saving us from becoming severe, unyielding, harsh, and terminally serious.²

Caring for our children means that we are not to put up stumbling blocks and prevent them from following Jesus. We may look at those stumbling blocks and think of things that would cause them to sin and we would partially be right but the sins are not bound to things of the flesh like sex, drugs, alcohol. Our stumbling blocks include things that deny them the opportunity to fully experience Christ. When I was 6, I remember a very formative incident at church, it was during a Christmas Eve service and the deacons were passing around the communion plates. The plates started to come down my aisle and I took the plate from my neighbor and began to take a piece of the bread. My mom stopped me immediately and told me that I couldn't have any. I thought I was in trouble so I asked why? I was good during the week and I had been good during the service. She informed me that I couldn't partake in this very important ritual because I had not been baptized. I didn't understand why I couldn't. I may not have been baptized but I loved Jesus very much and everyone else was taking it I should have the right to do so as well; but no was no and I went into full meltdown. I was angry, upset, hurt, and eventually my mom allowed me to have a small piece. The next week I went down and told the pastor that I wanted to be baptized. It was a stumbling block because what was supposed to be a holy moment, my baptism, became a necessary need to recognized by others as one of their own.

Likewise, we place stumbling blocks before our children that are written by tradition and not by scripture nor by written/instructed by Christ. We tell our children and youth that they first must understand baptism before they are baptized; they first must understand the Lord's Supper before you eat of it; we deny them an opportunity to come to Jesus because they do not come to him in the way we do. They do not wait for an invitation or permission like we do. They go to him unashamed and boldly while we cower and double check our list of doctrines; and it is to those little children that the kingdom of God belongs to.

“Listen,” Mr. Wonka said, “I'm an old man. I'm much older than you think. I can't go on forever...someone's got to keep the factory going—if only for the Oompa-Loompas. Mind you, there are thousands of clever men who would give anything for the chance to come in and take over from me but I don't want a grown-up person at all. A grownup won't listen to me; he won't learn. He will try to do things his own way and not mine. So I have to have a child. I want a good sensible loving child, one to whom I can tell all my most precious candy-making secrets –while I am still alive.”³

Yes, the kingdom of God belongs to ones such as these so do not hinder them from coming to Jesus nor be a stumbling block for them. For if we truly care about our children and our youth then we will move out of the way and let the playfulness of Christ meet the playfulness of his children.

1Yaconelli, Michael. Dangerous Wonder. Navpress 2003 pg 73-74

2Yaconelli, pg 74

3Dahl, Roald. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Puffin Books, 1964 pg 151