It may be no surprise that when I was in elementary school, I was what was known as a “teacher’s pet,” because teachers generally liked my attention to detail, obsessive rule following, and my general quiet nature. Public speaking and preaching is part of my job now, but for most of my childhood and early adult life, I was just far too shy to speak up about basically anything… that is with one exception, if someone was breaking a rule that felt important to me. I had no problem being a tattle-tell. I had no problem going to a teacher and exposing some exploits of others like attempted cheating and general rule breaking. (I had lots of friends, and everyone liked me.)
Maybe this is why I find our Gospel lesson so endearing, because me and John, our reactions are basically the same. John comes to Jesus, “Teacher, we saw someone casting demons in your name, and we tried to stop him, because he wasn’t following us.” Me and John: good-as-gold tattle-tells. And Christ responds in a way that may be surprising but was essentially the equivalent of every teacher’s response of, “oh, don’t be a tattle-tell.” Christ tells John and the disciples that anyone who does good in the name of Christ cannot be separated from the good that this brings about. That those who do acts of mercy, are in fact merciful.
Then Christ goes into a list of graphic and grotesque actions that, while violent and painful, are better than causing harm to the innocent. As one commentator pointed out, it’s important to pay attention that Christ likely still has a child on his lap from an earlier conversation not included in today’s text. And Christ is saying that if you would do anything to put their safety at risk, it is better that you be thrown into the sea with a giant millstone and drown. If your hands, feet, or eyes cause you to stumble, cut them off and pluck them out because a world of hell waits on the other side. Christ is not playing around with these metaphors.
While I don’t think this speech from Christ is prescriptive, I don’t think it is telling us to literally cut off our hands and pluck our eyes, I do think that Christ is intending to shock the disciples, and perhaps it doesn’t hurt us to be shocked as well. Perhaps it is necessary to shock the tattle-tells like me and John, people who see others doing things in a way that’s not how we think it ought to be done. John and the disciples were so stuck on doing it the right way and it being done exactly as they had been taught that they missed the whole intent: that the Kingdom of God was never about them or them getting it right. The Kingdom of God is about God calling us to do good in this world, sometimes at great cost to ourselves, but always at great benefit to the whole.
The truth is, there is no obvious and clear path of the right way; this life is about competing goods. And there are things in this world that we hold deeper than we ought, and two questions that I often find myself asking to take stock is, “At what cost and to what end?” At what cost and to what end do we choose our own comfort or ease over the real and undeniable sufferings of our neighbors? At what cost and to what end to we want to be the Christians who have it figured out, who push the right boundaries while neglecting to see that others may offer something we Episcopalians can’t or won’t because it’s just “not how things are done.” At what cost and to what end are we willing to not just invite people to the table, but to let the people we invite change us and our table too.
God is calling us to do good in this world, and a part of that is that we are tasked with putting aside the things that get in our way. Our pride, our ambition, our desire to get things perfect, our belief that our way is the best way, our selfishness, our disdain for those who differ from us. For Christ there is nothing on this temporary mortal coil that is worth what it costs to make someone feel that they are less than worthy of God’s love; not even our hands, feet, or eyes – cut them off and pluck them out if they tempt you into believing that somehow one of those who are the most vulnerable in our society less than fully and wholly created in the image of God.
Christ, with his litany of grotesque offerings, you’ll remember, is holding a child. And in the New Testament, children are not just examples, but also symbolic of the vulnerable and the marginalized. For Christ there is nothing on this earth that is worth this vulnerable person being made to stumble in their faith. Friends, it hard to hate up close. So, if we can imagine Christ holding a child, then I invite you to imagine Christ sitting with a member of a group that you have the most difficulty loving. Maybe it’s another political party or religion or sexual identity or nationality or a neighbor that didn’t mow their lawn before it rained or a coworker that doesn’t refill the coffee pot, and imagine what you would give for them to know—to fully know—the love of God.
- At what cost and to what end do we worship God with joy and wonder?
Sometimes we know all the hymns, we connect with the words of the prayers, and find the sermons moving, and sometimes it’s a bit of a reach, but isn’t it wonderful to get to do it together?
- At what cost and to what end do we learn and grow together?
For us at Christ Church sometimes this looks like a washed our Parish Picnic hopefully rescheduled soon, but usually it looks like a busy Sunday and an active week full of folks coming together to share not just their spiritual life, but also their personal life as well, a life lived intertwined.
- And at what cost and to what end do we seek to radiate God’s love to all?
The financial, emotional, and interpersonal cost of these relationships are all very real, and we do it as a community because of our deep conviction to the vulnerable that Christ modeled in our Gospel lesson, but it is a foundational to core of Christ Church to share this love of God.
Because God is calling us to do good in this world, very often at great cost and to an even greater end, and we get to do it together. Thanks be to God.
A sermon delivered to the people of Christ Episcopal Church in Bowling Green, KY on September 29, 2024 for Proper 21B on Mark 9:38-50.
Becca Kello 