“Righteous Indignation”
“Righteous Indignation”
Genesis 2:18-24 Psalm 8 Mark 10:2-16
October 6, 2024, Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost
Pastor Andy Kennaly
Sandpoint, Idaho
Divine Presence brings life, encourages faith, and provides peace. As we seek love that casts out fear, may we slow down and notice what shimmers and shines to help us receive and share the gift of open minds and hearts. May we enter life to season this world with grace in Christ’s name and claim the blessing of peace which is sweeter than drippings of honey from the comb. And as we live out in active ways the mysteries of God, may we share light and life and love, in Christ’s name, who is glorified, now and always.
That is how we concluded last week’s reflection. Once it’s out there, it’s out there. There is video evidence, online links, printed copies, and yet it has a typo in it. The typo is not a misspelled word, and in terms of grammatical errors, there aint none. It’s a matter of wordsmithing, of choosing a term that would more accurately say what is intended.
It starts out saying,
Divine Presence brings life, encourages faith, and provides peace. As we seek love that casts out fear, may we slow down and notice…
Did you catch it? I had said, “As we seek love that casts out fear.” Any guesses on which word is not correct? The one I would replace with another word is the word “seek.” As we seek love that casts out fear makes a presumption, that such a love needs to be sought out, which would imply that it is not there to begin with, that somehow, we lack such a love. But when it comes to love that casts out fear, I’m afraid I led you astray as I preached that such a love must be sought.
A better word would be something that implies love that casts out fear is readily available, already present, and eternal. If there’s any hint that we don’t experience that love, then a better word would be discover. We could say, as we discover love that casts out fear, but even that’s limited. To discover could imply, just like seek, that we’ve gone without such love.
We may have forgotten such love, but we have not gone without because we were born with the essence of this love, and we’ve always been held by this love, a love which is our foundation from eternity, our true expression of life. So maybe the words rediscover or reminded of would be better.
You may think that whether we seek, or discover, or rediscover, doesn’t really matter, it’s just words, and they point to love that is there to claim. But this would make some assumptions. One assumption is that the love is an object, and we are the subject, as if we can notice that love, over there, somewhere, to claim it. The assumption is that we think we know who we are, and we can direct ourselves in reference to objects that are considered outside ourselves, the self we think we know. But this is three-dimensional thinking that involves concepts and mental constructs developed by our ego, by our sense of self that we think we know we are. Since it’s three-dimensional thinking, it’s automatically limited because we tend to forget a deeper unity, the primordial connections that exist without separations, and without corruption of our understanding of time as linear, a progression from this to that and into the horizon line of an unknown future. The perception of a horizon line can create fear, and our ego becomes defensive.
Time-freedom trusts the eternality of love, that love has no beginning and no ending, and in every moment love is present in fullness. As we live within time, and face realities of our existence, we don’t necessarily need to be limited by three-dimensional experience and the tyranny of egoic thought. A classic word for this is enlightenment, although this word has kind of been ruined by European history. Maybe the word Awakening still has some validity to it without the baggage of rational thought.
The scripture passages this morning present that interplay as chronological time finds its rightful proportion and influence among larger arcs of time, like sidereal time. When the Psalmist says, “When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars that you have established…” this is sidereal time, cosmic measurements that cannot be captured by our ordinary comprehension. Other things are at work, other things that are not based on measurements, or counting, or subject/object limitations, or egoic constraints of conceptual thinking.
Jesus gives us a lesson about this, and we sense his frustration in his attempts to teach the experience of essential unity, the presence of eternal love that is always there, and the invitation to mystical awareness of that which goes beyond our definitions, perspectives, and mental constructs. In his frustration, he violates cultural norms to prove a point as he shows us the proper use of righteous indignation.
People were bringing children to Jesus in order that Jesus might touch them, and the disciples spoke sternly to them. As they should! The disciples are doing their job of keeping kids away from the presence of a grown man, a wise Jewish rabbi. Here we have the sincerity of those who want the blessing of Jesus confronted by the culturally supported defensiveness, even aggressiveness of those who are closest to Jesus, his very own disciples. They are getting on peoples’ case to leave Jesus alone, go away, and they did this sternly, which means they were mean, rude, tainted with anger, an anger that is thoroughly misdirected.
But their anger is matched and exceeded by righteous indignation, for Jesus “was indignant and said to them, ‘Let the children come to me; do not stop them, for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs.’”
Notice that everyone is angry, the disciples and Jesus. But not everyone is being stern. It’s the disciples who speak sternly. The passage mentions that “Jesus said,” and he is not speaking sternly.
Righteous indignation does not wish harm on another, but rather it tries to wake people up to who they really are. In this case, the disciples are called to be more than they think they are. The disciples are taught a lesson in who they really are: people created in the image and likeness of God; those who live in mystical union with Love; God’s creatures who share in and express the Presence of the Living Christ.
Then we get one of those reminders to really pay attention as Mark’s gospel has Jesus say, “Truly I tell you.” This “truly I tell you” phrase is the clincher, the nugget, the core of the story, and the key to unlocking mystery that continues to unfold and expand the experience of faith lived out as we practice how to be aware, how to stay attuned, as reality is presented.
Jesus says, “Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it.”
What is it about a little child that is so pivotal? How do children receive the kingdom of God? Ironically, they don’t receive it, as if the kingdom is an ‘it’ that can be received, something outside themselves, external to their lived reality as created beings. Children have not developed egoic thinking. Children don’t have a concept of themselves as separate from their mother, their father, their family. Children have inherent trust, a humble dependence. They don’t need to enter the kingdom of God because the kingdom of God has not been forgotten. Like little ones carried in the arms of adults, life in God’s reign means we’re carried, held in the bottomless abyss of God’s love.
Let’s notice who belongs where. Jesus tells the disciples to let the children come, to not stop them, and this is why. For it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs. The kingdom of God belongs to children, such as these, those who do not let conceptual thinking cloud their judgment, or even create judgements through dualism. It is the kingdom of God that belongs to children, not children that belong to the kingdom of God. The kingdom of God is not a place that you try to get to, hopefully in time, as you carry your ticket to get in. The kingdom of God is belonging itself, is unity itself, is love itself, and these belong to children because they are inherent gifts.
It is ironic that people were bringing children to Jesus so he could touch them. These families were seeking to receive a blessing. Jesus doesn’t hold them back, but he gives them that blessing even though the kingdom of God already belongs to the children. Mark writes as the last line in this story that Jesus “took them up in his arms, laid his hands on them, and blessed them.”
This is important. It shows the reality of incarnation, of spirit and matter that merge as life. Jesus shows us the importance of embodiment, that our physicality is part of Life’s mystery that unfolds and invites and includes. Embodied spirituality is something that Protestants tend to minimize, and embodied experience is viewed as something we’re not interested in. But this is because the ego is not in charge of the body. The tyranny of rational thinking doesn’t know what to do with bodily senses, and the intuitions of felt-sense, a different kind of knowledge. Jesus is indignant because he knows embodied spirituality is essential to receive the fullness of awareness in the kingdom of God.
This is why spiritual disciplines that calm the mind and engage the body are also essential, like centering prayer that claims silence and stillness, or walking a labyrinth as reflection of spiritual pilgrimage deep into the center of ourselves, our True Self in God. We need ways to welcome the experience of our body, to transform our mind to be able to hold multiple perspectives, and renew our hearts to claim what’s already there.
Kind of like communion, the Lord’s Supper, the Eucharist. We break bread, we share the fruit of the vine, we partake in elements and internalize them as the body and blood of Jesus, the Christ. But, like those children, we already are. We are already the body and blood of Christ, the Living Christ expressed in our sacred lives as we participate in and experience a sacred, planetary existence. This meal serves to remind us of what we have forgotten, to remind us of who we are as created beings of Love enfleshed, unity embodied, and spirit that dances with every breath we take, every breath we are given and share.
As we gather around the table it is with celebration and humility, for life depends on Life. Not only does this supper remind us of stories from long ago, but it re-enfleshes, re-embodies, re-members as the Risen Christ lives in and through us and all there is.
Divine Presence brings life, encourages faith, and provides peace. As we re-member love that casts out fear, may we slow down and notice, that like children such as these, the kingdom of God is glorified, now, and always. Amen.