On the journey with Jesus
there is always the first step;
the first prayer,
the first self-less act,
the first encounter with scripture,
the first true repentance,
the first enemy loved,
the first sin renounced,
the first gift discovered,
the first falling away,
the first return to a God waiting
with open arms.
“Jesus, looking at him, loved him” We haven’t heard this before, that Jesus looks with love one someone, and we don’t hear it again in Mark’s gospel. It’s striking because, in my mind at least, this guy is not a prime candidate for someone who might stir love in Jesus’ heart. You might think that Jesus will love the person with leprosy, or he will love the little child, or he will love one of his disciples, or how looking at his mother, he loved her…Why this man? Jesus just loves him.
Jesus asks them, “What were you arguing about along the way?” They are all silent. I’ve been wondering why. The gospel tells us they were arguing about who was the greatest. And why were they arguing about greatness? Two things have happened just before this argument. The most recent thing is that Jesus called the disciples “faithless” when they couldn’t cast the demon out of the boy. He told them that in front of a whole crowd of people. That must have smarted. They were disciples, they had left everything to follow Jesus, and he just told them they were faithless. Ouch!
Right after this high point, both literally and figuratively in Jesus’ life, he comes down the mountain straight into this unholy mess that we read about in today’s gospel story. He descends into an argument. The scribes are arguing with the disciples; there is a man whose son has a demon, and the disciples have not been able to heal him. Jesus descends into the reality that his disciples are stumped, they seem to be ignoring the hurting person and instead are involved in arguing with the scribes. What was it like for Jesus to come straight off the mountain and into this messy scene?
Sometimes we don’t give a thought to Jesus’ mental state as he walked this road to Jerusalem. We think, “He’s our Saviour, he chose this, he was fine with it.” Was he? We know for sure that he was filled with agony in the garden. Was he entirely peaceful about his identity all the other hours and days of his short life? Think about your own life, when there is something that you dread in the future, do you save all the worry and anxiety up for one night? Or do you carry it all for days and months? Perhaps the transfiguration was an encouragement for Jesus himself…
It is hard to bear your cross, to maintain your identity on the home front. Sometimes I think the great challenge is not “Love your neighbour as yourself”, but actually, “Love your family as yourself.” Often, we put our best effort to be kind when we have an audience in the wide world. But then we let our guard down and act unlovingly in private. Sometimes we can be people who are model Christians at church and at work, where everyone can see our loving and selfless actions, but when we get home, we act like tyrants…
A sower went out to sow. That is one crazy wasteful parable. Didn’t Jesus mean to say, “A sower went out to sow. He saw the path, and he didn’t sow any seed there. He saw the rocks and he didn’t sow any seed there. He saw the thistles and he didn’t sow any seed there. And then he saw the good soil, and that’s where he planted all his seeds!” And how much crazier this might have sounded to the people Jesus was telling this story to. In Jesus’ day, they sowed the grain by hand…
Thank you God for night sounds;
frogs singing in the spring,
crickets chirping to their mates,
dry leaves rustling,
winter winds howling,
the plaintive call of a train whistle,
the wail of a siren,
the sound of my own breath.
God, you are in the night sounds.
Tune my ears to the pitch of your voice
calling to me in the darkness. Amen.
At the starting line of this day,
we call on your name, God of grace.
As we run the race you have set before us,
help us to keep our eyes on your goals, not our own.
When we falter, give us fresh strength and courage.
When we are fleet-footed, let us give you the glory.
Keep us from wanting to win at other’s expense
or to count ourselves better than those at our side.
All runners are your children.
In the race You imagine,
each one is a winner.
I am a Mennonite pastor currently teaching theology at Conrad Grebel University College in Waterloo, Ontario. I’ve served congregations in Ontario and most recently, Alberta.
I love to write and to lead worship! If you are finding my writing helpful, I would love to hear from you! Feel free to use or adapt the material here, it is all written by me. If printing material, please credit “Copyright Carol Penner www.leadinginworship.com” (and say whether you modified it). If publishing, please contact me for permission. Contact me at carol@leadinginworship.com
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