“Things, Divine and Human”
“Things, Divine and Human”
Genesis 17:1-7, 15-16 Psalm 22:23-31 Mark 8:31-38
Year B, Second Sunday in Lent, February 25, 2024
Pastor Andy Kennaly, Sandpoint, Idaho
When I was younger, I would watch Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom hosted by Marlin Perkins. In addition to a very catchy musical jingle, that show had a way of presenting wildlife, especially in the African Savana. They would go out in those Land Rovers, get way out in the bush and work with native trackers to get as close as they could to herds of gazelles, wildebeests, and zebras. They would show the hunting techniques of lions, cheetahs, and leopards. There would be those notorious wild dogs, jackals, and hyenas skirting around the kill sites. Survival of the fittest has lots of drama.
It was amazing to learn how lions work together to come at a herd of prey in a coordinated way. If there are really young, or rather old, or diseased prey, such as gazelles, it is rather likely that those lions will eventually be feasting, and vultures and other scavengers will clean up what remains. It’s always interesting to see the intensity of that meal, those large cats ripping off legs and other parts, having their hierarchy of access to the dead gazelle. There would be some scrapping, growling, not really a relaxed scene until all the bellies were full, then they would sleep.
But even as they feast, other gazelles and other herds are on notice, but because these predators seem satisfied in the moment, the herds would still linger in the area and go about life as usual. Can you imagine being a gazelle, looking over and seeing some large cats chewing up your cousin? Do you think it bothers them to be so close to death? Do they wonder when their turn will come? Yet, still, they go on munching the grass as if it’s just another day in the African sunshine, but they can never let their guard down.
This morning, we read about Jesus as he shares the news of his imminent death, and he does this rather openly. It seems to bother Peter, who pulls Jesus aside and rebukes him. Yet Jesus counters this with his own rebuke of Peter, commands Peter to get behind him; even calls him Satan. This action of Peter must have been tough on Jesus if he got that riled up to call him Satan. Like that temptation voice, “If you are the Son of God, do this in a different way.” The drama between Jesus and Peter may have taken place on the side, but both of are surrounded by the very obvious violence and political, economic, and religious oppression of culture’s dominating quest for power and control.
I had one of those moments this week. Looking at a death that made me wonder. Like the gazelles munching on grass after the rainy season in the savannah, herds that reap the benefit of the plenty, churches have enjoyed decades of privilege and abundance. But I noticed in our Presbytery’s electronic newsletter that coming up on Sunday, March 3rd at 2 p.m., our brothers and sisters at Faith Presbyterian Church in Hayden, Idaho, just down the road, will celebrate their ministry as they have their final worship service. Then they close the doors. Last year it was East Valley, a small church on the outskirts of Spokane. I wonder who’s next? It feels like small churches are getting smaller and every so often one of them succumbs, ages out, and closes their doors.
Like Peter, the threat of finality can be unsettling, the imminence of death goes against our wants and wishes, challenges our comfort and expectations, and may not be in alignment with our opinions and desires on the way things should be. Death can be unsettling and the thought of a horizon line somewhere in the distance stirs anxiety and fear. Like gazelles that sound the alarm and start running in every direction, churches start trying this or doing that, what I call the spaghetti on the wall technique, flinging things up and seeing what sticks in hopes that something will alleviate the angst, the fear and anxiety of closure.
Peter must have been convinced that Jesus had it wrong. The path of humility and kenosis, of letting go; this couldn’t be meant for them. There had to be other options, more powerful responses, things to do that would not be such a failure as what Jesus proposed. Do you think East Valley and Faith Church in Hayden are failures? Were they not faithful enough, did they not pray enough, did they not preach the Bible with enough intensity or doctrinal purity?
Jesus says that Peter has his mind set on human things, not on divine things. Then Jesus calls not only the disciples together, but the larger crowds and teaches them all about the great reversals; save your life by losing it, come after Jesus by denying yourself, take up the cross and follow. Not exactly a jolly jingle, a lovely limerick, or a strong selling point. The adulterous and sinful generation would have, most likely, like Peter, rather heard something else.
Interesting words, adulterous, sinful. Adulterous means having a relationship that is good, whole, and loving, and yet choosing something else, a cheap substitute that may at first look good but ends hollow, like the tempter doing what temptation does: offering promises that cannot deliver. That other word, sinful, means full of sin. I like the definition of sin as being the illusion of separation. Both adulterous and sinful have to do with the seduction of a concept, the idea of separation, which invokes a turning away from the deeper reality of connection and relationship. It is no mistake that Peter took Jesus aside to rebuke him because Peter was already turned away. Jesus calls him back, reorients him to a proper place of connection, and he does this after he turns and looks at the disciples. Jesus speaks from a position of unity.
That show, The Wild Kingdom, was produced by men for the entertainment of Americans. It presented, through a patriarchal view, a common misinterpretation of Darwin’s theory of evolution. Survival of the fittest, it seems so obvious. But this is like Peter, on the side, and this perspective introduces the deficiencies of competition, rather than emphasize the efficiencies of collaboration. It pushes an ego perspective at the expense of life’s larger realities. The focus of the show seems to climax at the moment of the kill. What life usually holds is far more encompassing, groups of animals working together to find food and the sustenance for another day. The momentary culling of the diseased ones benefits the larger herd, and keeps them on their toes, creates movement and migration that protects the landscape from overgrazing and impact. What emerges is balance.
How do we find balance? How do we not “give-in” unknowingly to temptation? How can we be cleansed from sin and adulterous substitutions to the larger, deeper, more meaningful realities offered by the author and perfector of our faith, Christ Jesus our Lord? How do we learn how to lose our life to find it, how to let go of what we thought was profit, even gaining the whole world, to focus on the sake of Jesus.
The Lenten journey helps us, like the crowds that Jesus calls over, to be reminded of what truly gives us life. The promises of God echo through the ages as the words of the Psalmist tell us that “dominion belongs to the LORD, and [the LORD] rules over the nations.” The Psalmist talks of those who have died (representing the past), and the Psalmist says, “I shall live for him” (representing the present), and “Posterity will serve him; future generations will be told about the Lord and proclaim his deliverance to a people yet unborn, saying that he has done it” (obviously connected to the future).
We don’t need to live in fear of a line on the horizon. We don’t need to allow anxiety to get the best of us as our perception of time pushes us into what seems to be uncertainty of the future. These things, fear, anxiety, worry of the future and a rehashing of the past, these are human things. The divine holds all of time, and certainly, we are invited to a new relationship with time, as past, present, and future all express the Living God and the creative work of the Spirit, whatever our part in that may be. This trust in the ‘eternal now’ connected to God’s goodness, releases us from cycles of shame, the burden of measuring or counting, and the futility of failures for all are held in a larger creative purpose that offers balance, Presence in the present, and a healthy ability to hold multiple perspectives that reveal things, divine and human, as permeated and infused with all that is sacred. “Secular” loses its meaning in a Christ-soaked world.
May God forgive us when we sound like Peter and life derails our deeper intentions. May Jesus inspire us to follow once again behind the one who shows us the Way to not only life, but Life Abundant, even through the cross as it sheds all other distractions. May the Spirit guide us and teach us what it means to lose our life for the sake of gaining life, and finding balance and wholeness in all that is sacred. Thanks be to God for promises that enfold generations into a larger, unfolding story of goodness and love. And may God be glorified, now, even in the fullness of forever. Amen.