TAKE UP YOUR CROSS & FOLLOW

A SERMON FOR THE 2ND SUNDAY IN LENT, YEAR B

BY LAURA GENTRY

MARK 8:31-38

Peter was an awesome disciple. That’s why he was called the Rock—and no, he was not a pro-wrestler. Jesus called him that because of his rock-solid faith. 

Like the other disciples, Peter had left his old life behind to follow Jesus and now, after working alongside this amazing teacher, he had a revelation. 

“Why do you say that I am?” Jesus asks him. 

“You are the Messiah,” he says.

Obviously, Peter was a faith rock-star. Pun intended. But maybe not. There was something Peter wasn’t getting. He thought back to words of the prophets who foretold the coming of the Messiah who would deliver them. In this line of thinking, the Messiah would be like the great King Solomon. Only better. He would come in power and flex his political muscle and send those foreign occupiers packing.

Yes, it will be fabulous, Peter was probably thinking. And when Jesus usurps Rome and is put on the throne, well, I’ll probably get to be Chief of Staff or some other high office. I am his right-hand man, after all. I’m his Rock. I ought to be wealthy and powerful when all this goes down. God rewards faithfulness, right?

There are a lot of preachers out there who say: Yes! Yes, of course! If you are a Christian—if you love Jesus—then you will be healthy, wealthy and beautiful. You’ll always smell nice. Divine providence will rain riches upon you and your family. 

This theology is popular these days. It’s known as “Prosperity Gospel” and it sounds great, doesn’t it? Who doesn’t want an easy life with, you know, lots of toys? And it makes sense: if God is God of all and God loves us, then we should have everything we want.

This kind of thinking was also popular 500 years ago and Martin Luther found it extremely disturbing. He called it a “theology of glory.” It declared that God works through things and people that are powerful. If things are going well for you it must be a sign that God is with you. So if you’re suffering or weak or poor—well, you must be doing something wrong. But then along comes Jesus and he’s all of that: he’s so weak and powerless that he’s put through the incomprehensible suffering and the shame of death on a cross. So, Luther concluded, this must mean that contrary to popular thought, God works through weakness. God isn’t punishing the suffering for some alleged wrong-woing. No, in fact God is most profoundly with the suffering. In the midst of our brokenness God is with us and is working to call us back to life. This is what Luther called the “theology of the cross.”

Hmm, maybe Luther got it wrong. Weakness, shame and death. Doesn’t sound all that fun. That’s certainly where Peter was coming from. In today’s Gospel text from Mark, Jesus tells his disciples quite openly that he must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elites of the faith: the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. 

That’s stupid! At least according to Peter, so he speaks up and tells Jesus not to talk like that. The text says he rebukes him. It could be translated: “Shut up!” Peter’s that vehement in his opposition to Jesus’ plan of suffering and death. Shut up, Jesus! Don’t do it. You’re supposed to be the triumphant king, not die like a shameful criminal. I won’t stand for it.

Then Jesus lashes back at him with even more force. “Get behind me, Satan!” he says, “For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.” 

Satan? Yikes! This is forceful language but Jesus doesn’t mean in a name-calling way. He’s addressing Peter as “tempter” because he’s tempting Jesus to turn away from the path of humility, shame and death and go after worldly glory instead. This had to be tempting even for the Son of God. Peter is very devilish in this regard. He’s setting his mind on human things and trying to throw off the entire divine plan. Jesus won’t stand for it.

As if exasperated that his own rock-solid disciple has missed the point, Jesus calls the crowd together to teach them. Maybe they’ll get it this time. They need to hear it (and we do, too). Here’s what he lays on them: “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. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life?”

Mark Twain once wrote: “It ain’t those parts of the Bible that I can’t understand that bother me, it’s the parts that I do understand.” This here is one of those passages that bother us because it’s so clear: “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.”

Or is it? What exactly does Jesus mean when he asks us—his followers—to deny ourselves, take up our cross and follow him?

It certainly isn’t a get-rich-quick scheme or a magic ticket to the easy life as the prosperity preachers would tell you it is. It is a call to complete devotion. It asks us to give up our selfish pursuits and follow Christ. And I believe that’s what we’re all trying earnestly to do. But how!? How do we do it today in our hurting world?

Well, we could look at how Jesus did it. His first century world was different from ours but it was hurting, too. People were oppressed, crushed and crying out for deliverance. God could have looked at all that suffering and decided to keep it at arms-length. You know, it’s too awful. But instead, God decided to enter the world and walk with—suffer with—those broken people all the way to the cross, even though Peter begged him not to.  Isn’t that incredible? I can never quite wrap my head around it.

We all suffer. The older we get, the longer our list of suffering—loved ones die, spouses leave, health declines, disappointments and failures accumulate. We hate to think about how vulnerable we are but indeed, suffering is a pretty constant companion on the road of life.

Take up your cross and follow Jesus. Maybe that means first admitting we suffer. Like Christ, we have our crosses to bear. At times we are broken in two by them. 

A friend of mine, whose child died, recently posted this quote by Leonard Cohen: “I greet you from the other side of sorrow and despair with a love so vast and shattered it will reach you everywhere.” I was touched by it because it reminded me that when we are broken, there is the opportunity for our shattered hearts to expand with love. We’ve suffered, so now we can empathize with other people who suffer. Despite the pain—actually because of the pain—our compassion can grow. 

This is what Jesus did. He suffered and in doing so, he suffers with each one of us. He proves to us that God gets it. God is there in not just in our happy moments but in our weakness and hurt. And we are called to do the same. 

Take up your cross and follow Jesus. Maybe that means entering into the suffering of others rather than pushing it away. We can make space in our hearts and our schedules for those who are suffering. We can listen to and believe the victims of abuse, we can allow grievers to grieve as long as they need to, we can look at discrimination and understand how the system is rigged against some people rather than blaming them for their situation, we can get outraged when we discover injustice, and this can stir us to action to advocate on behalf of our brothers and sisters in pain.

When Jesus was telling his disciples about what he must undergo, he got to the part about being killed but did you notice, he didn’t stop there? He went on to say that after three days he would rise again. I wonder if Peter even listened to that part. Maybe if he had, he wouldn’t have objected. Jesus suffered and died, yes, but that wasn’t the end of the story. God raised him to new life and in doing so, promises us the same. The cross, you see, leads into suffering and death but ultimately it leads to resurrection.

Take up your cross and follow Jesus. Maybe that means setting our sights on the risen life. The world might offer comfort and power but Christ offers risen life both now and in the world to come. But you have to deny yourself, take up your cross and follow him. You have to suffer yourself and with others. You have to serve instead of seeking priviledge. You have to love instead of hate. And this may seem like it’s such hard work that you’re giving up your whole life but surprizingly, Jesus says the opposite will happen: “those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.” It sounds counterintuitive but the selfless way is the best way. It will save your life.

I’m sorry to break it to you, but I’m not a prosperity preacher. I just stick to the Bible so I’m gonna give it to you straight: following Jesus is hard work. Don’t even bother if you’re not for real.  We are called to follow Christ—to completely, wildly, passionately, and recklessly give over our lives. We are asked to take up our cross and follow Jesus: to give up pursuit of wordly power, to embrace our weakness and suffering, to enter into the suffering of others and let it expand our hearts that we may be and transformed into new people, risen people who love God and are eager to go wherever the Spirit leads. This Lenten journey reminds us that’s what it’s all about. Now get out there and follow Jesus.

WHAT DOES IT TAKE TO FOLLOW JESUS?

A sermon for the second Sunday of Lent (year B)

Pastor Laura Gentry

Mark 8:31-38

There is a story from the life of Paul that reminds me of today’s Gospel text. Paul is in a big hurry to get to Jerusalem by the day of Pentecost. When their ship lands in Caesarea, a prophet warns him that the Holy Spirit told him that if Paul goes to Jerusalem, he will be bound and handed over to the Gentile authorities. So what do Paul’s friends do? Of course, they try to convince him not to go. He is their companion and leader, they don’t want him to meet with a terrible fate. So—in tears—they beg him to stay.

Paul gets absolutely incensed by their plea. “Why are you weeping and breaking my heart?” he replies. “I am ready not only to be bound, but also to die in Jerusalem for the name of the Lord Jesus” (Acts 21:8–12). And sure enough, about a week after they land in Jerusalem Paul is arrested. It eventually leads to his death—just as his friends so dreadfully feared.

But what would Jesus have had him do? Should Paul have hidden out and not traveled to Jerusalem for Pentecost in order to avoid those wicked conspirators? Would he have been better able to proclaim the gospel if he’d been able to stay alive? I mean, wasn’t Paul just throwing his life away?

In today’s gospel, Jesus quizzes his disciples about his identity. “Who do people say that I am?”

They have answers ready for him: John the Baptist, Elijah, one of the prophets.

Jesus, then, presses them about their personal understanding of his identity. “But who do YOU say that I am?” he asks.

Peter answers him boldly, “You are the Messiah.”

Jesus sternly orders them to keep this a secret for now. Then he launches into a whole speech about how he 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.

Now this bad news just doesn’t sit well with Peter. So he pulls Jesus aside and rebukes him.

Now this rebuking doesn’t sit well with Jesus. We’ve got a real conflict bubbling up here and it results in an explosive statement by Jesus that shocks us all. “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”

Satan? I mean, come on, isn’t that a little bit strong for your right hand man? But that’s what Jesus says. Satan. Peter is setting his mind on human things instead of the divine things despite all Jesus has taught him.

Then comes an even bigger bomb. Jesus turns to the whole group of disciples—and to us as well as we read these pages of scripture—and says quite plainly: “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.”

This is a famous passage of scripture, one that many Christians can recite by heart. But whatever does it mean?

If read out of context and with our modern western understandings, Jesus words can be understood as a glorification of suffering, as a strong encouragement to become a victim. In this way of interpreting it would follow that I should deny myself—that is, sacrifice myself, wipe out any real sense that I have of myself, my individual personality and embrace the cross—which undoubtedly means suffering. To be Jesus’ follower, then, I should stop being me and throw myself into a life of miserable suffering.

Now this is a dangerous road to go down. Many women have failed to develop their own identities because of this interpretation. They have hidden their talents and strengths in order to embrace suffering that could be alleviated because that’s what they thought Jesus wanted. And so they stayed in abusive situations when they should have found a way to freedom. Other marginalized groups have gone with this interpretation and believed they should stay in their low stations, never challenging the powers that cause them to suffer. More than anything, they want to follow Jesus and so they go on suffering.

Is that what God wants? It is important, especially when we look at the strong statements of scripture, to look at it in the literary context of the whole scripture and in the cultural context into which it was actually spoken.

Since we really want to know what Jesus means, we must first take up the question of the literary context. Let’s think about Mark’s gospel as a whole. Mark does not glorify either self-sacrifice or suffering. In fact, Jesus in this gospel does just the opposite—he announces to all the kingdom of God. And in order to make this message clear, he alleviates suffering and empowers others to do the same. He is ever about the good news that God’s kingdom—God’s rule—is breaking in on our fallen world. This rule brings with it great joy, healing, feasting and the end of suffering.

Not only Jesus but others who join God's rule also have power over suffering. Jesus sends out the disciples to preach, heal, and exorcise, and they do it successfully! (6:7 -13). Jesus also tells the disciples to trust God's power over nature: he expects them to trust that the storm will not destroy them and to be able themselves to feed thousands with little food (4:35-41; 6:3544; 8:1-10). Once, somebody who hasn’t even met Jesus throws his name around and is able to successfully exorcise in his name! (9:38-39). Throughout Mark’s story, we see signs that the marvelous new reality of God's rule has broken into our world and things are changing for the better.

So when we look carefully at the literary context, we see it does not support the theory that “deny yourself and take up your cross” means that God specifically wants you to suffer for the sake of suffering. Indeed, Jesus’ message is one of liberation from suffering.

But make no mistake, this good news is not good news to everyone. Jesus has made powerful enemies who will soon take his life. He does not want his disciples to be surprised by the fact that following him and proclaiming God’s rule of justice and peace will have its consequences. Keep in mind that John the Baptist has already died for the cause, Jesus is about to die, and most of the disciples will go on to die in the line of duty also. Yes, along with the good news, there comes the reality that persecution will face the followers of Jesus.

Nevertheless, you should not lose heart! That is what he is trying to convey when he tells them they must take up their cross. They must resist the temptation to let go of their mission just because it threatens their safety. Yes, there is the inevitability of persecution. However, the blessings of God's rule are even greater. They far outweigh the suffering to be endured. That’s why they should hang on with everything they’ve got and follow Jesus.

Okay, that may explain the suffering part, but what about the “deny yourself” line? Exactly what is Jesus getting at? Let’s look at the first-century cultural context to get a handle on this question. Most Christians are ill-informed about the vast cultural differences that our modern society has with the ancient Middle East. To our modern ears the command to “deny yourself” sounds like a call to self-sacrifice. Today many do read this way—as a demand to deny your individual self and always put yourself last. But that is not how a person of the first-century would have heard it.

To begin with, their sense of self was so very different from ours. People in Jesus’ time had little, if any, idea of individual identity. Their sense of “self” was completely connected to their family. The question: “Who are you?” was really asking: “Who is your family?” That defines who you are. Families lived and worked together as a solid unit. If you left your family, you would have no identity and probably no means of earning a living. When I finished college, I had the desire to live in Montana. So I simply packed up my car and left—off to make my way in the world as a young adult. That kind of thing would be unheard of in ancient society. But that is precisely what Jesus was calling his followers to do.

In asking them to deny themselves, Jesus was asking them to leave their family unit in order to follow him. At one point in his ministry Jesus says: "'Who are my mother and my brothers?” He looks around at the group gathered and says: “Look, here are my mother and my brothers! For those who do the will of God, they are my brother and sister and mother.'" (Mark 3:33-35). To accept Jesus’ invitation— to leave their own families in order to join Jesus’ family was completely against societal expectations. It was a radical act, an act that threatened the social order of the entire empire. No wonder Jesus and his followers drew such fierce enemies.

Therefore, when read in the context of the first century and the overall message of Mark’s gospel, Mark 8:34 is not a command to suffer and be a victim in general. Not at all! It is an exhortation to remain faithful to Jesus and the liberating kingdom of God even in face of persecution by political authorities. It is an invitation to leave family and other alliances behind and become part of Jesus’ family first and foremost.

The question then remains: what does this mean for us today? We don’t have to stay in our family units to be socially accepted. Like I said, I myself ran off to a far away state to live and my parents did not disown me as they would have in ancient times. In fact, they were quite proud of me. Furthermore, we live in a country that has, as one of it’s pillars, freedom of religion. Here, we can follow Jesus all we want and never get arrested or executed for it.

These things put us in a totally different position from the first generation of disciples. Yet look what they accomplished! They turned from a ragtag group of misfits who were hiding out after the crucifixion of Jesus into zealous evangelists who spread the good news far and wide. Just as Jesus exhorted them, they were not deterred by political persecution or the threat of death. Like the story of Saint Paul I told you at the beginning of the sermon, they marched headlong into danger if it would further the mission. In short, they changed the world. We would never have heard of Jesus and his story of redemption had it not been for their courageous evangelism.

What’s our excuse? To deny ourselves and take up our crosses actually costs far less for us today than it did for the early disciples and yet we seem to follow with far less passion. Oh, we might alienate a friend by taking about faith too much or we might be known as “those” Christians but we honestly don’t have much to lose.

Do you want to follow Jesus? Then go for it! What does it take? Deny yourself—love Jesus, embrace him as your heart’s heart. He is your family even more than your own family and you owe him not part of all of your allegiance. Take up your cross—whatever it costs you is nothing next to the incomparable riches of following Christ and letting him lead you. If Peter, who was called Satan for his blunder can rise to the task of discipleship, so can you and I. The good news of God’s kingdom must be heard and it’s our job to share it. Amen.