Mark 6:1-13
Presented July 5, 2009, by J.D. Kline
The Fifth Sunday after Pentecost
A number of years ago—I can’t remember precisely when—I was a part of a small group of persons asked to consider the one quality we most needed to develop in our own lives. We were instructed to write down that quality on a thin slip of paper, and then place the paper in a small jar and position the jar in a conspicuous place, a place where, each time we saw the jar, we would be reminded of the quality of life we are seeking. That jar has remained on my desk for many years, and the slip of paper is still inside it—reminding me of my yearning for the quality of patience.
Patience. The apostle Paul, writing to the church in Galatia, lists patience among the fruit of the Spirit. Recall with me that list: The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Galatians 5:22-23). To the church at Rome—a small body of believers in Jesus beginning to experience the perils of persecution—Paul, perhaps surprisingly, counsels patience. After celebrating the gift of new life, the promise of peace with God, the joy of sharing God’s unexpected gifts of grace, the apostle continues, “Not only that, but we also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance.” The traditional King James language, you may remember, puts it this way: tribulation worketh patience—and this patient endurance produces character. Even more, continues the apostle, “character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us” (Romans 5:3-5).
I suspect I’m not alone in my struggle to embrace this quality of patient endurance, particularly at those when life seems especially tough, those times when the wind seemingly has been knocked out of our sails. The writer of the letter to the Hebrews, you may recall, urges us to run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith (12:1-2). Other translations suggest that we run with patience (KJV), that we run with determination (TEV), that we run with resolution (NEB).
Patience is sometimes portrayed as a passive quality, idly folding one’s hands while waiting for the inevitable to occur. But patience, as these alternate translations would suggest, includes the element of steadfast determination, resolving to keep ourselves focused on the task before us, “looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith.” Patience is dogged persistence, living faithfully even when we can little foresee any results from our efforts. The Benedictine sister Joan Chittister once observed that “the human being is a creature-in-search whose eternal compass is set to the interminable question, ‘For what?’ For what are we really searching in life? Where should we go to seek it? How will we know when we have found it?”
It is a search that requires open eyes and ears, open hearts and minds and spirits. And ultimately, asserts Chittister, “It is not so much where we go in life that matters, it is the way in which we immerse ourselves in [life], open ourselves to [life], see beyond [life’s] trappings wherever we are that measures the quality of our journey.”
The quality of our journey. Interestingly, the New Testament writers sometimes use imagery that suggests impatience every bit as much as patience, as we seek to journey through life in faith. In Romans 8 the apostle Paul is writing of creation’s hope for renewal, creation’s yearnings for all of life to be refashioned and re-formed in the very image of God. Writes Paul, “The creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God … the whole creation has been groaning in labor pains until now; and not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies … If we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience” (Romans 8:19, 22-25).
Do you hear the interplay of images, the blending of patient hope with impatient groaning? In this morning’s Gospel lesson, Jesus is instructing the disciples, as he prepares to send them out two-by-two, that they might proclaim the promise of new life in the kingdom of God. The Twelve are being urged to travel light, to “take nothing for their journey except a staff; no bread, no bag, no money in their belts … to wear sandals [but] not to put on two tunics” (Mark 6:8-9). These are compelling and urgent instructions, given for urgent times. Jesus, in fact, is commissioning the disciples to go forth as bearers of light and love, of healing and promise, of compassion and peace, announcing by word and deed that something radically new is in the works. God’s reign is now unfolding, and so it is time to focus our search on that which is most important in life, to immerse ourselves in this radically new way of living, to alter our outlook and our life direction, our purpose and our priorities in life, our attitudes and our actions.
In effect, Jesus is telling the disciples, “There’s no time to waste. This is a critical moment.” And it is this sense of urgency that stands behind Jesus’ additional instructions, “If any place will not welcome you and they refuse to hear you, as you leave, shake off the dust that is on your feet as a testimony against them” (6:11). At first glance, it seems an odd admonition coming from Jesus, the One who so frequently extends inviting and welcoming arms to many who find themselves on the outside looking in. But now Jesus counsels the very action, the shaking of dust from one’s feet, that ancient Jews would use when they returned to Israel from Gentile lands, symbolizing a formal disavowal of relationship. Biblical scholar Tom Wright suggests in his commentary, Mark for Everyone, that Jesus is not calling for an “act of pique or petulance.” Jesus is not seeking to increase levels of division and animosity; instead, Jesus is pinpointing the disciples’ mission as critical, reminding them that there’s no time to waste! Focus your energy on that which is most important!
Our spiritual forerunners, the early Brethren, believed similarly that they stood at a critical juncture in life, that they were called to proclaim, in a time of spiritual decay and theological rigidity, that Jesus opens for us another way of living. An alternative way of living in which we allow the Spirit of Christ to transform our thinking, our acting, and our doing, to plant within us a new heart and a new spirit. A way of living based on compassion and peace, loving kindness and gracious welcome. A way of living with eyes and hearts focused on Jesus the Christ. Perhaps you remember the one-verse hymn in the 1951 Brethren Hymnal, “Oh, How is the Time so Urgent.” It’s the words of Alexander Mack, leading force behind the early Brethren movement:
Oh, how is the time so urgent which God gives only once;
and how is the world so empty, which by [humankind] is loved too much,
that we all, with dull neglecting, in it walk as if in dreaming,
thinking little of the span of God’s vast eternity.
Centuries-old words, words that prod us to seek the mind and perspective of God in all our living. One of my favorite novels and movies is Alan Paton’s Cry, the Beloved Country, the story of life in South Africa in the 1940s, a time when the cruel and unjust system of racial apartheid deeply divided the peoples of that nation. There is a moving scene in which a young priest determines to sell all his possessions and withdraw into a life fully devoted to prayer. Why, an older priest asks, Why would you do such a thing? Because, responds the younger priest, I have one great fear—that when the white people in our land finally turn to loving, they will find that the black people will have turned to hating.
For that young priest, it was an urgent time, a time demanding patient and prayerful waiting, but also holy impatience with business as usual. There was no time to waste. Perhaps you’ve seen a more recent movie, “The Great Debaters.” It’s the story of Wiley College, a small, African-American liberal arts college in Texas in the 1930s, which for quite a number of years had a remarkably successful debating team. Melvin Tolson, the debating coach, expends significant time and energy creating opportunities for Wiley’s debating team to compete with teams of predominantly white colleges, demonstrating that Wiley’s team was indeed worthy of note. In one of the debates, centering on the question, Should black students be admitted to white colleges, Samantha Booke, one of Wiley’s debaters, decries the deep disparity between funding for schools of different races. And then, responding to her opponent’s assertion that now is not yet the time for integration, Samantha cries out, Would you kindly tell me when is the time? The time for justice, the time to do what is right, is always and in all circumstances right now!
What keeps us from embracing fully what we know to be right? Why do we find it so difficult to stand firm in the face of opposition? Frequently it is our fear—our fear of the consequences. At the conclusion of today’s Scripture text, Mark affirms that the disciples did indeed embrace the call—confronting forces of evil and extending Christ’s healing, all while urging their listeners to turn to Christ’s new way of living. One might expect, then, that the disciples might engage in a time of celebration, recounting their mission in detail. But instead, the Gospel writer turns immediately to another story—the appalling tale of the beheading of John the Baptist. It is a story that begins with the observation, “King Herod heard of it, for Jesus’ name had become known” (6:14).
Jesus’ name had become known, and by implication, his disciples were being identified as well. The gruesome story of John the Baptist’s fate reminds us that there may well be a cost to discipleship. In his book about preaching from the Gospel of Mark Presbyterian pastor Gary Charles reminds us, “One lesson disciples simply do not want to learn is that, when they follow Jesus, the end of the road will more likely be a platter or a cross than a spotlight or a toast.” Tempted as we are to hob-nob with the “Herods” of the world, the results may well be deadly. Truth be told, when we take on the urgency of doing justice, loving tenderly, and walking humbly in God’s presence; when we seek first the kingdom of God in our daily living; when we endeavor to display a new way of living, modeling bottom-up service rather than oppressive domination, an open embrace of kindness, welcome, forgiveness and grace rather than life marked by clenched fists—whenever we seek to live and proclaim Christ’s new way of living, there may well be consequences.
But here’s the good news—the very One who places before us an urgent call to impatient patience is the same Christ who promises to be with us, encouraging, strengthening, renewing, empowering us, melting and molding, filling and using us, so that our love might indeed reveal Christ’s glory, our lives might be signs of grace, and we might find our place in the remarkable story of Jesus. Now is the time to live and proclaim Christ’s good news, until Christ’s peace becomes commonplace.