Trust God-with-us to give you and the world mercy and healing.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Twenty-second Sunday after Pentecost, Lect. 30 B
Texts: Mark 10:46-52; Jeremiah 31:7-9; Psalm 126

Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

Trust doesn’t automatically come with time.

Peter, James, and John have been with Jesus for three years, and in this last journey on the way to Jerusalem have witnessed Jesus’ glorious transfiguration and Jesus’ wondrous healings, have been taught and urged to follow the self-giving way of Christ, and yet, as we’ve seen, still don’t trust Jesus with their lives.

But this beggar, whose real name we don’t know, who hasn’t met Jesus before, only heard of him, finds a trust in Jesus that not only brings him healing, it sets him on the way of Christ.

Trust, for Bartimaeus, came in no time at all.

When he hears a big commotion and learns Jesus of Nazareth is passing by, he focuses on getting to Jesus if he can. This blind man sees more clearly than most in this Gospel.

He shouts over the crowd, “Son of David, have mercy on me.” He gives Jesus a Messianic title, saying “have mercy on me, Messiah.” Show me empathy and compassion and help me.

Others try to tell him to be quiet, maybe to protect Jesus from bother, or maybe they’re just mean, but Bartimaeus refuses to stop. He shouts more loudly.

That’s trust. To know that somehow God is working in this Jesus and can help. And to do whatever he can to get Jesus’ attention. To receive mercy.

Bartimaeus trusted God-with-us would listen.

And Jesus honored his trust. In the chaos of a noisy crowd traipsing down the road, he heard the cry for mercy and stood still. Listened. Jesus has a lot on his mind and heart, heading to his death in Jerusalem. But here, he stops and is still so he can hear a cry for help.

As it happens, God-with-us listens even if our questions are the wrong ones. James and John wanted Jesus to do them a favor, and he listened. In fact, as we heard last week, he asked them the same question he asked Bartimaeus: “What do you want me to do for you?”

They wanted privileged roles. They received a call to lose everything and serve others. Bartimaeus wanted mercy. Healing. That’s the blessing he received. God gives what you truly need.

We don’t need to knock down the others to admire Bartimaeus.

But at this point in Mark’s Gospel, it’s only this outsider who’d only ever heard of Jesus, who trusts Jesus with his life, not the long-time followers.

Peter, James, and John are trusted followers, even leaders. But they’re distracted. Maybe by that privileged position inside Jesus’ circle. Peter doesn’t trust Jesus’ plan to suffer and die. James and John don’t trust that they’re honored and want proof. We know what it is to be distracted by our privilege and status and find the path of Christ hard to follow.

Bartimaeus just knows his need, trusts in the One God sent, and asks for mercy. And he receives healing, and – this is really important – then goes “on the way” with Jesus after this. For the early Church, “the way” meant the path of Christ. Newly-healed Bartimaeus trusts enough to walk it with Jesus.

Now, Peter, James, and John will learn to trust Jesus with their lives. Will learn to ask for mercy themselves, and, healed, will walk faithfully with Christ in their healing. But for now, Bartimaeus is the one to model yourself after.

So, can you find his honesty inside? Look into your heart and see what you need?

What would mercy from the Triune God look like in your life? Can you let go of whatever façade you want to put between you and God and be honest with God and yourself? And trust God’s Messiah to have mercy on you?

You might need to keep asking God for mercy even when others tell you to stop. Folks will tell you God doesn’t care, or that your problems aren’t as bad as someone else’s so you shouldn’t bother God. It takes a little trust to shout over that, “have mercy on me, O God.”

But know this: just as Jesus, God-with-us, stood still to listen to Bartimaeus’ cry and called him to his side, so the Triune God will stop and stand still to hear your cry and call to you. If you trust enough to let go of yourself and call out.

Be ready for the question, though: What do you want me to do for you?

Bartimaeus knew exactly what to answer: “Let me see again.” If you have prayed and thought about what mercy and healing you need from God, name it when God asks. Speak it aloud. Trust God will hear and answer.

But don’t forget that God-with-us is in this world for all creation, not just you. You can ask mercy for yourself and find the trust to ask for more. Today Jeremiah promises that God will heal a whole nation, bring back the scattered exiles to their home, on a straight, safe path. The psalmist sings that God’s whole people went out planting with tears, but are harvesting in joy because God restored them.

All the suffering that fills our world, the structural sins and systems we decry and want dismantled but also participate in because we live in this world, all this God will heal, too. God will work in us to bring all people home and end all the things that cause us and so many to fear and despair.

What do you want me to do for you? God asks. Bartimaeus says: don’t be afraid to answer. Jeremiah says, “and don’t be afraid to think big, too.”

Do you doubt that God will heal you? Heal this world?

That’s fair. It’s a big ask. But, before he met Jesus, in all the years he sat by the roadside, how confident was Bartimaeus that he would see again? How confident were the Jewish exiles, decades after being ripped from all they knew and dragged into bondage in Babylon, that they’d ever see home again?

But Bartimaeus got his sight. And the exiles were gathered and brought home. God-with-us brings healing and mercy. Trust that. And you, too, will be made well. Along with the whole creation. So all may join Bartimaeus on the way with Christ, and know abundant life.

In the name of Jesus.  Amen

Christ our Servant shapes us in our lives as servants, helping us every step of the path of Christ, for the sake of the world.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Twenty-first Sunday after Pentecost, Lect. 29 B
Text: Mark 10:(32-34) 35-45

Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

We’ve finally come to the place Mark’s been leading us in his Gospel for weeks now.

There’s one more story in chapter 10 after today, a healing we’ll hear next week. Then Mark enters Holy Week, the palms, the betrayal, the death, the resurrection. We walked that with Mark last spring.

Ever since Jesus started traveling to Jerusalem and we joined him in chapter 8, he’s been telling his followers, telling us, telling you, that he’s heading there to be beaten and killed. And to rise from death. And he’s been calling his followers, calling us, calling you, to take this same Christ path of self-giving love, letting go, losing for the sake of others.

And his followers, including me, including you, have been struggling with this. We’ve seen Peter and John fail to get it, and frankly, it’s hard for us, too.

Today, after all this, days from Holy Week, two of his trusted leaders still don’t get it. They respond to Jesus’ latest warning of his imminent suffering by asking for the honored seats when he comes in glory. Clueless.

Maybe the fact that these two important ones still struggle after weeks of instruction and guidance from Jesus should make us feel better. But it doesn’t change that we are also struggling with Jesus.

It’s really hard following someone who leads on such a challenging path.

The writer to the Hebrews calls Jesus the “pioneer” of our faith. Pioneers go ahead, blaze a trail, lead. Jesus leads the path of Christ for all of us, modeling the self-giving love, facing suffering and death ahead of us.

But following someone who’s that focused on a path is not easy. I once was traveling in tandem with someone who drove through a yellow light that changed to red for me. We were supposed to drive together for 8 hours. Instead, I spent 8 hours wondering if I’d ever catch up.

That’s what following Christ on this path feels like sometimes. Like we’re children following a long-legged, determined parent, always trying to catch up. Stumbling, getting tired. Not really handling the path well. Frightened of the next steps, and our leader is so far ahead and has done it so well, we’re alone in this. It’s lonely and frightening and confusing and daunting and overwhelming to always feel behind.

The thing is, Jesus isn’t actually ahead of us on the path.

The last word of Jesus in these chapters about losing like Jesus we heard today: “For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.”

Christ Jesus, the Son of God, is your servant. Not ahead of you, making you fear you’ll be left behind. At your feet, washing them. At this table, offering you food for life. It’s not just suffering coming next for these disciples in Holy Week. Jesus will show them he’s there for them on this path. As their servant. As our servant. As your servant.

What Hebrews fully says is Jesus is the “pioneer and perfecter of our faith.” (Heb. 12:2) The one who completes your faith, helps your discipleship, shapes your servant life.

All this self-giving love, this servant path of Christ we keep hearing about, is made possible by the Great Servant, our God-with-us, who completes in us, in you, this life of faith.

He does this as he did for these disciples, first by teaching.

All this time as they walked to Jerusalem, Jesus prepared them for what was ahead for him, and for them if they follow. But this whole journey Jesus wasn’t impatiently running ahead, chewing them out for not keeping up. He just kept at it, teaching them, helping them understand his way. Correcting them when they misunderstood.

Yes, it was hard sometimes when he corrected. Ask Peter. But his love was always there. Look at James and John today. They’re asking for a ridiculous thing, they’re completely disconnected from Jesus’ focus. But Jesus is gentle with them. He just says they don’t know what they’re asking. And they don’t – they think they can handle what he’s facing, his cup, his baptism.

Of course they don’t know Jesus will struggle with that cup himself in Gethsemane, and in the baptism of his crucifixion will cry out in abandonment. But Jesus just says, “Yes, you will experience the same as I.”

That’s your Servant Teacher: firm, clear, never wavering from the path, but constantly trying to reach you with different images and words, always loving you, even when you struggle repeatedly with the lesson.

That kindness comes because Christ also has empathy for your weakness, not just lessons.

Even human priests can have this gift, Hebrews says today, but Christ Jesus does completely. He lived as one of us, knew how hard it can be to be faithful. He will soon undergo a great trial of his path in Gethsemane. He knows what it is to fear, to wish to avoid painful consequences of sacrificial love.

So, Hebrews says, he “is able to deal gently with the ignorant and wayward, since he himself is subject to weakness.” Your Servant Christ is at your side fully understanding your fear, your weakness, your confusion as you seek to be faithful. Empathizing with you, and even more, strengthening you. Healing you, as Hebrews says.

And Christ your Servant knows the full pain and suffering of loving as God loves.

In fact, he knows it far worse than most of us ever will. A few days after this promise, he goes to the cross. To find power in powerlessness, healing in self-giving love, grace in losing himself for everyone.

The Servant who walks by your side has experienced it all. When you suffer trying to be faithful, when you are hurt because you refuse to hurt others, when you lose because you won’t live a life that defeats other lives, you are always upheld by the Pioneer who did it first, who now completes your faith by strengthening you in your suffering and difficulty.

James and John didn’t know what they were facing, but Jesus did.

And Jesus knows the same about you and me. In baptism we are joined to Christ’s path for the sake of the world. Anointed and set apart to be servants to the world on behalf of God, bearers of God’s love and mercy and justice. It’s a costly path, as we follow Christ and walk alongside others as servants ourselves. Empathizing with their weakness and struggle, because we know weakness and struggle. Sharing their suffering because we know that it costs to let go in order to follow.

But grace upon grace: your Servant, God-with-us, is always at your side, walking beside you. Helping complete your faith and your discipleship. Every step of the way.

In the name of Jesus.  Amen

With God all things are possible: even the changing of your heart to let go of all things and follow Christ in love for God and neighbor.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost, Lect. 28 B
Text: Mark 10:17-31

Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

Do you dare to ask God to change your heart?

That’s your question today. For weeks now in our Gospel readings we’ve walked between Jesus’ predictions of his suffering and death and we’ve heard Jesus call us to follow in drastic terms: Take up your cross. Lose your life. Be last, not first. Serve everyone else. Chop off whatever trips you up from following. Sell everything you have, give it away, and follow.

But hard as those actions are, drastic as they sound, impossible as they might seem, Jesus gives great hope today: Whatever seems impossible for us is possible for God.

So – do you dare to ask God to make the impossible possible?

If you hear “take up your cross, lose your life, let go of everything,” and don’t get nervous or anxious about what that would mean for your life, hoping for unchallenging ways to understand Jesus’ description of the path of Christ, you might emerge from these weeks of Gospel readings unscathed. But probably not faithful.

That’s our great challenge. We’ve learned to hear Jesus’ drastic calls and put them in a box called “Sayings of Jesus” that we occasionally open, but only to admire them, not be challenged by them. You could go through these thorny bushes of what Jesus says it means to follow him and avoid ever getting your clothes caught on the branches. You can hear Jesus and not be changed, or concerned about your life.

The rich man today didn’t take that option. He heard Jesus exactly as Jesus intended, and knew he was being asked to let go of everything he owned if he wanted to follow. No exaggeration. No metaphor. And he had enough integrity to say “I can’t follow you with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength.”

If you dare, things will change. This man knew that.

We make Jesus’ calls comfortable by imagining Jesus is talking about getting to heaven with God when we die, not about this life. We hear Jesus say today it’ll be hard for rich people to go to heaven, rather than hear him call you and me to let go of all we have to follow him.

Today Jesus is clearly talking about God’s reign now, in this age. The disciples left family and friends, their homes, their fields and work, for the sake of following Jesus. Jesus says they are receiving all that back in abundance right now, in the community of those who follow Christ alongside them. All the family, home, wealth, and work they need they have in each other.

But that’s why following Jesus is hard for people with wealth. Like us. The more you have to lose, the harder it is to let go.

When we shift Jesus’ clear words from this life to the next, we utterly change the intent of God coming among us.

If the Triune God’s only goal in Christ was to end the power of death and bring all whom God loves into life after death, God could have done that any way God wanted. God created the universe.

But if the Triune God’s goal in Christ is to draw all whom God loves into relationship with God and with each other, a relationship of love that transforms lives and the creation, then God had to finally become one of us, speak our language, show us a face and a voice we could hear and trust and learn from.

Even in today’s Gospel Jesus promises life with God after we die. It’s just a separate thing from his call to lose everything to follow him. It’s a question of who can do what. Only the crucified and risen Christ can give you and me life after we die. You and I can do nothing to make it happen. We can only trust Christ’s promise to do it.

But only you and I can live the life of Christ here, in our lives, today, and so change the world. Learn to love God and neighbor with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength.

So what do we do with today’s call?

The question might not be whether today you divest all of your retirement, or sell your house, or take your Social Security check, and give it all away. We could argue that if everyone sold everything and gave it away, who would grow the food, make the homes, if everyone has nothing? The question really is whether you listen to Jesus with enough seriousness that his call makes you squirm. Causes you discomfort. Makes you wonder if you are actually being faithful.

So, you could start to ask, every day, what you hold that keeps you from loving God and neighbor fully. It could be everything. But start somewhere. It might be wealth that holds you back, and you decide to give away a lot more than you have before. It might be habits that harm others, that you decide to change. It might be ways of thinking, prejudices, fears, you try to get rid of.

But you and I would do better to share the integrity of this man today and walk away if we’re not willing to consider what we need to lose, let go of, cut off, for the sake of God’s Good News reaching all.

But also remember: God makes what seems impossible possible.

You and I hear these calls and know it’s going to be really hard to know what to do. Even harder to have the courage to try. Hardest of all, to fail and have to start over again.

But, do you dare trust Jesus’ word and ask the Triune God to change your heart? To make possible in you what you think is impossible? Because God will. The Spirit is in you right now, pulling you as you hear Jesus’ words, waking you at night with calls to love and care for your neighbor. God’s ready and willing to change your heart and so change your life. If you don’t walk away in sadness but give God a chance, you will find all you need to follow Christ faithfully. Even with stumbles and sins along the way.

And remember this, too: Jesus loved this man, even as he called him to risk everything.

Even as he walked away. Jesus loved the disciples even when they struggled on this path.

And Jesus – God-with-us – loves you as you are. You are God’s beloved child, a precious gift in God’s eyes. The God who loves you says, “Follow me. Let go of what keeps you from it. Even if it’s hard. And let me make it possible for you to do it.” That’s the joy of this path.

And that’s what God’s reign is all about. God’s beloved children living in love with each other and God, learning to let go of all that prevents that love, to embrace losing everything for each other in order to find everything in each other. So the whole creation can be healed.

Do you dare to ask God to make you a part of this?

In the name of Jesus.  Amen

Because of Christ, we don’t claim to have it all together – we trust God has it all together and we are simply living in God’s love for all.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost, Lect. 26 B
Text: Numbers 11:4-6, 10-16, 24-29; Mark 9:38-50

Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

Joshua and John had a problem with God’s behavior, not other people’s.

Joshua claimed to be upset at Eldad and Medad for prophesying in the camp. They were the only two of the 70 chosen to receive God’s Spirit who didn’t go to the Tent of Meeting as instructed.

But God told Moses to gather 70 elders so they could be given a share of the Spirit that Moses had and so ease Moses’ burden. And God sent the Spirit on all 70. Joshua’s problem is with the God of Israel who poured the Spirit into those two.

John claimed to be concerned about this unknown person casting out demons in Jesus’ name. He was unauthorized and needed to be stopped.

But Scripture says God drives out demons, not human skill. John’s problem isn’t with this guy, it’s with the God who answered his cries for deliverance.

We’re learning Jesus’ servant path, the path of self-giving love, in these three chapters of Mark we’re focusing on most of these autumn weeks. Today’s lesson is, if your concerns are with God being overly generous with the Spirit to others, maybe don’t complain to God’s Son. Or to God’s Spirit-filled servant, Moses.

This is another thing Christians have struggled with forever.

We’re not alone. Lots of people of faith – whatever their faith – find it challenging to see God blessing people who aren’t part of the in-group. Humans seem to want to accept God’s love and gifts ourselves, but once we feel we have that, to roam the outer boundaries making sure others are kept out.

But if we’re to learn something today from God, notice that the Triune God doesn’t care one bit about Joshua’s or John’s concerns. God’s giving the Spirit to all 70 and that’s it. God’s driving out demons afflicting God’s children, and that’s it.

So maybe that’s the real lesson today: whatever control you think you have over God’s work in the world, you don’t. God will do whatever God wants to, whether you and I are on board or not.

But there’s more to this lesson as we seek to be shaped to Jesus’ path.

Moses and Jesus agree: you and I don’t get to tell God where to send the Spirit. But both turn on their trusted, beloved followers, and say: you’ve got a bigger problem than you know.

Moses tells Joshua not only is he not upset at Eldad and Medad, he wishes God would pour the Spirit on all God’s people. You’re worried about those two guys going off-book, Joshua? My dream is that everyone is Spirit-filled. How will you control that?

Jesus dismisses John’s concern that this is an unknown person, and says if they’re doing good in Jesus’ name, leave them alone. But then he turns to John and the others and says, “If any of you put a stumbling block in front any of these folks who trust in me, you’d be better off tying a millstone around your neck and jumping into the sea.”

Jesus’ fear is more that John might have done something to hurt the faith of this poor fellow, not that his credentials are murky.

Can you imagine our witness if we took Jesus and Moses to heart?

If we rejoiced when we saw God working in others – whoever they are – instead of worrying about their credentials? How much blood and anger and violence have been poured out by people of faith killing or hating or rejecting other people of faith because they believed different things?

God’s Word says if God is sending the Spirit into the world, you don’t control where that goes. So if you see the fruits of the Spirit Paul describes in your Jewish neighbor, or your Muslim colleague, that’s God’s issue. If God’s Spirit moves in Hindus and Buddhists, and even in atheists without their knowing, what say over that do you and I have?

Moses longs for all to be Spirit-filled and speak God’s prophetic word. Jesus believes that if people are doing good in God’s name, that’s a grace. What if we embraced that?

God’s not asking us to tolerate others who differ from us. Toleration is insipid, weak sauce. The Son of God and Moses speak of longing to experience God in whomever we see, even if they follow different rules or beliefs or if we don’t know them.

But if you can’t yet rejoice that God is in another, for God’s sake – literally – at least don’t harm their trust in God.

That’s Jesus’ deep concern. God-with-us has no interest in our theological purity, and rejects our need to classify some as in and others as out. But God-with-us absolutely forbids us hurting another’s faith.

What if we always made sure we weren’t putting any stumbling block in the way of others’ trust in God? That our highest concern wasn’t getting our theology right and making sure everyone else did, it was protecting and nurturing the faith of all those who trust in God, whatever their faith. And, in an age where those who claim no faith are more known to us than before, maybe we should make sure we don’t do anything harmful to those siblings, either, even if we think they don’t have faith we can trip up.

That’s the servant path Jesus calls you and me to walk. The Church hasn’t been good at these lessons in, well, forever. But Jesus is always hopeful some of us might learn and live them.

This doesn’t mean the Good News that we trust about what God is doing in Christ doesn’t matter or shouldn’t be shared with the world.

The Bible is clear that your life is to witness to God’s love in Christ, your love of God and neighbor, the fruits of the Spirit you bear, are meant to lead people to know God’s love for themselves.

You and I just can’t tell God whom to love or whom to fill with the Spirit. We can’t claim anyone is outside of God’s embrace. And you and I absolutely can’t cause others to stumble in their faith. God’s love in Christ as we trust and live it forbids that.

It is precisely because we follow the crucified and risen Christ and trust in God to bring life to the world that we leave all of that life in God’s hands. Because God’s unauthorized and overly-generous love is the only reason you and I have hope, too. Would that all God’s people knew this!

In the name of Jesus.  Amen