Deny Yourself and Take Up Your Cross
Seventeenth Sunday
after Pentecost – Proper 19 (Year B)
Mark 8.27-38
St. Gregory’s,
Long Beach
We’ve got a lot going on in today’s Gospel reading. Before
we jump in, it’s important to note that of Mark’s 16 chapters, this passage
today falls at the end of the 8th chapter, putting it at the exact midpoint,
the center, of Mark’s Gospel. This is not accidental. In writings of the day,
the author often placed the most important information—the central theme of the
document—at the midpoint of the document to indicate its significance. Critical
analysis of Mark confirms that today’s reading is indeed the central theme or
argument of Mark’s Gospel.
This central theme is comprised of three parts, with each
part leading us to a new revelation. The first is Peter’s confession of who
Jesus is. Second is Jesus’ first prediction of his Passion. And third is a statement
of what it means to follow Jesus in light of this new information.
The first part is pretty self-explanatory. Jesus asks the
disciples who people are saying that he is. After a number of responses, he
then asks who they—the disciples—say he is. And Peter wins the prize. “You are
the Messiah” (Mk 8.29).
But then in the second part, Jesus completely bursts Peter’s
bubble when he delivers his first Passion prediction to the disciples. “Then he began to teach them that the Son of
Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief
priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again” (Mk
8.31). In so doing, Jesus is describing his vision of who the Messiah is based
on the image of the suffering servant in Isaiah. One that proclaims the Messiah
must suffer and be killed. Peter objects to this idea and therefore rebukes
Jesus. This is not the vision and understanding of the Messiah according to
popular Jewish understanding—the understanding Peter himself has bought into.
Suffering is not part of that understanding of who the Messiah is. And
certainly death is not part of the deal.
In response Jesus rebukes Peter, famously saying “Get behind
me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human
things” (Mk 8.33). About seven months ago, on the second Sunday in Lent, we had
the majority of this passage as our Gospel reading and I preached on what it
meant for Jesus to say “get behind me Satan” to Peter. Of course, you all
remember that sermon—every word committed to memory. But for those who didn’t
hear that sermon, the bottom line is that Jesus was not calling Peter evil.
Rather, he is using an ancient understanding of the term satan—one who takes the role of adversary, of obstructing or opposing.
Peter was not able to accept the truth Jesus presents so seeks to prevent
Jesus’ self-proclaimed fate. Peter identifies Jesus as Messiah but has no idea
what it truly means. And when the truth is revealed, Peter is unable to accept
this new reality. Rather than try to justify or explain, Jesus merely tells
Peter that rather than seek to prevent his suffering and death, he needs to get
behind Jesus, to support him, in what is to come. That Peter needs to get
behind him and follow on the journey Jesus is about to make.
This is all really just setting the stage for the real point
Jesus is wanting to make. We have had the revelation of who Jesus is—the
Messiah. We have had the revelation of just what that means and the uneasy
implication that his is not an easy path to follow. So now we turn to what it
means for us to follow Jesus as our Messiah. After Jesus tells Peter
that he needs to get behind him and follow him, he turns to the other disciples
and the assembled crowd and tells them that they, too, are included in this. “If any want to become my
followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For
those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life
for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it” (Mk 8.34-35).
The common understanding of these verses is that we must
suffer as Jesus does. Well that’s a real motivation for following Jesus! But I
don’t think that is what Jesus was really saying. In Mark, emphasis on
suffering is really a hope for future liberation (New Interpreter’s Study Bible, special note p. 1825). Jesus is letting his hearers
know that following him leads not to death as he will ultimately have to face,
but to life. He is calling his followers to radical faith even as he prepares
them for the eventuality of his own Passion. That his Passion is necessary for
them to achieve the new life that is the promise of the Messiah. That they are
to trust that he will provide the liberation that has long been anticipated
with the coming of the Messiah. That he will provide that liberation, just not
in the way that they have been taught to expect. Rather, liberation will come
through the cross.
Jesus is clear that we have a response to make. We have to
take steps to follow him. The key to how we do this is Jesus’ statement, “If any want to become my
followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” Two
points: deny yourself and take up your cross. Only then can we truly follow
him.
So what does it mean to deny yourself?
In the simplest sense, denying yourself means that your own
self-interests and personal desires are no longer central, no longer driving
forces, in your life. But I think Jesus was getting at something deeper, more
fundamental, to who we are as those created in the image and likeness of God.
Denying ourselves is really about denying our image of our self. How we view
ourselves. For some, that is denying an inflated image of self-importance, of
infatuation with one’s own sense of self-worth. For others, that is denying a
sense of powerlessness, of feeling of little or no value, denying poor
self-esteem. And for some of us, that may even be denying an odd, incongruous
mix of the two.
Instead, we are to focus on what it means to be made in the
image and likeness of God. To focus on what it means to be beloved of God. To
focus on what it means to be part of the Body of Christ. Jesus is telling us
that we are part of something bigger. Something beyond ourselves. That whoever
want to save their life—and who of us doesn’t want that—will lose it. That
whoever hangs on to the false images of themselves ultimately loses sight of
who they truly are—beloved of God.
But whoever embraces the vision that Christ has of us and
lives into that image, whoever embraces and lives into the Gospel, saves their
life. Saves the true essence of who they are created and called to be. As
theologian Frederick Buechner writes in his
book, Listening to Your Life:
“the life you clutch, hoard, guard, and play safe with is in the end
a life worth little to anybody, including yourself; and only a life given away
for love’s sake is a life worth living” (quoted in Synthesis, Proper 19,
September 16, 2018).
To do that, we must take up our cross. So what does it mean
to take up your cross?
Jesus would not, and could not, have literally meant that
those who follow him are to take up the cross—to go to crucifixion—for their
faith. Jesus never even revealed that he would die on a cross. Not only that,
crucifixion was a punishment reserved for lowly criminals. Jesus would never
have thought of himself, and certainly not his followers, as criminals. So he
certainly would not have expected anything as horrific as that to befall his
followers. If anything, he was seeking to use imagery associated with taking up
the cross to convey a message.
When the Roman Empire executed criminals by means of
crucifixion, taking up the cross meant that the condemned criminal carried the
horizontal beam of the cross to the place of crucifixion (the vertical beam
would have already been in place). Along the way, the criminal, signified as
such by the beam he carried, was subjected to ridicule, insults, and being spit
upon by those he passed along the way.
If anything, Jesus’ statement is more about the general shame
associated with the cross and with crucifixion. In metaphorically taking up the
cross, of identifying with Jesus, his followers are not to shun the cross but
accept it. They should not be ashamed of the cross, but accept it as the means
of salvation. They are not to be ashamed of Jesus’ fate on the cross, but to be
so unashamed as to be willing to risk sharing it. Even though they likely will
never be called to do so.
Without a doubt, in the early days of the Church taking up
the cross would have had a less metaphorical and a more literal meaning of
facing the prospect of persecution for one’s faith. But not now. Not since the
4th century when the Emperor Constantine made Christianity the
official religion of the Empire. Post-Constantine, that means the taking up of
one’s cross needs to be redefined.
Some take the reference to taking up the cross to mean that
it is God’s will for them to suffer and therefore they should not resist any
suffering that befalls them. That they are to seek martyrdom or to acquiesce to
conditions of misery to show their faithfulness. Poppycock! Absolute hogwash!
Again, Jesus could not have meant taking up our cross to mean that we have to
suffer or even die to show our devotion to him. He only wants us to have life.
He took up his cross so that we wouldn't have to literally take up our own
cross. He took up his cross for us so that we would have the opportunity for
new life. And to have it abundantly.
It is more likely that what he meant by taking up the cross
has more to do with embracing its significance rather than enduring it. To
embrace the promise of liberation and new life that Jesus secured through his
own cross—through his death on that cross. In embracing the new life that the
cross secures and promises, it also means embracing the message of the cross
and of the One who died upon it—to embrace the message of the Gospel. We
recognize that the mission and ministry of the Messiah is to a suffering world.
That Christ came into a world filled with pain with the express purpose of
relieving that pain. Jesus challenges his followers to take up their cross and
embrace pain in the world and to work with him to relieve it. Another way to
look at it is that as we grow spiritually under the weight of the cross, we
move from apathy to empathy. The pain of the world becomes our pain and we
share in it and work to ease it, just as Christ does.
Only by denying our own unhealthy misconceptions of who we
are and embracing the image God has of us, and only by embracing the hope and
promise of the Gospel as exemplified by Christ going to the cross for our
sake—the hope and promise of love, mercy, and forgiveness—can we truly follow
Jesus. When we seek to do this, we must do so wholeheartedly. We must be “all
in,” being 100% committed to using our gifts, skills, talents, and resources to
share and to live the Gospel.
Or, in the words of JC Austin, Senior Pastor of First
Presbyterian Church in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, “’For those who want to save
their life for my sake and for the sake of the gospel will lose it.’ In other
words, Jesus is for losers; the question is what we are willing to lose” (Synthesis Today email, September 11,
2018).
What are we willing to
lose, and what are we willing to take up, for the sake of Christ and for the
sake of his Gospel?
No comments:
Post a Comment