Mark 1:21-28

They went to Capernaum; and when the sabbath came, he entered the synagogue and taught. They were astounded at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority, and not as the scribes. Just then there was in their synagogue a man with an unclean spirit, and he cried out, “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God.” But Jesus rebuked him, saying, “Be silent, and come out of him!” And the unclean spirit, convulsing him and crying with a loud voice, came out of him. They were all amazed, and they kept on asking one another, “What is this? A new teaching—with authority! He commands even the unclean spirits, and they obey him.” At once his fame began to spread throughout the surrounding region of Galilee.

A friend of mine from college had an interesting way of filling his free time: he would climb up the exteriors of various buildings on campus. This all happened at Valparaiso University, so one of his climbing adventures took place on this building: the 60’-high Chapel of the Resurrection (see image below).

His attitude towards life was engaging, fresh, and often quite different from mine. I rode a bike, always with a helmet firmly attached; he had a skateboard. I played cards and video games; he came up with crazy pranks to pull off on campus. I was concerned about following the rules; he pushed boundaries. I kept my feet firmly on the ground; he...did not. Well, I kept my feet firmly on the ground until the day I finally went with him to climb a building on campus. I didn’t attempt it until our senior year. In all reality, it was little more than an attempt to impress the girl I had recently started dating. We all made it up to the roof and back down without falling and breaking any bones. And she must have been impressed because we kept dating and eventually married.

I asked my friend if he was ok with me talking about him and his campus climbing adventures for my sermon illustration. He joked that he wasn’t aware of the story of Jesus climbing the temple. However, I reminded him there is a story about Jesus climbing the temple. It’s found in Luke 4:9, which reads: “The devil...placed [Jesus] on the pinnacle of the temple.” It all makes sense now...the devil made him do it!

I’m not advocating for anyone to go scale the facades of buildings. That’s not exactly what inspires me about him. I am inspired by his impulse to push against rules, norms, and expectations in order to serve others. This same friend graduated and went down to Guatemala to work with people who lived in landfills. That takes a serious boundary-pushing impulse.

I hope you are blessed with a friend like this; someone who helps you see new possibilities. A friend like this keeps you on your toes. A friend like this helps you understand that some rules are made to be broken.

In this way, my friend modeled an aspect of Jesus’ life that is often overlooked by Christian churches in the West today: Jesus was ornery. This is evident in the miracles he performed, the wisdom he taught, the friends he made, the freedom with which he lived his life, and the way he understood and related to God. All of it clashed against the customs and rules of his time.

Ornery Jesus reserved his most radical and controversial actions for the Sabbath day–the day no work was to be done. I imagine Jesus was pretty low key throughout the week, but as soon as the sun goes down on a Friday night, Jesus would get a look in his eye that suggested he was ready to break some rules...because some rules are made to be broken.

In the gospel story for today, Jesus is teaching in the synagogue on the Sabbath. He’s not teaching like everyone else teaches...this guy is impressive! He’s engaging, authoritative, and exciting. He’s pushing boundaries. He’s the skateboard-riding, thrill-seeking, excels-at-everything guy captivating a room full of rule-followers wearing safety glasses, pocket protectors, and bike helmets...or whatever the equivalent was 2,000 years ago.

He is addressing an assembly of people whose power is perfectly preserved by the rules they impose and enforce. But here they are, eating up Jesus’ every word. They begin to see that the rules should ensure that all people thrive. Maybe someone other than a priest can forgive someone’s sins in God’s name. Maybe people should be allowed to be healed on a Sabbath day. Maybe sinners, tax collectors, and prostitutes are worthy companions with whom to sit down and break bread.

And then someone in the assembly recognizes what Jesus is doing and calls him out on it. “I know who you are. You will destroy us!” Scripture says this is the voice of an “unclean spirit.”

The unclean spirit has found a compatible host in this religious man preoccupied with his own power. This unclean spirit is threatened by anyone suggesting there is a life to be lived beyond the rules, regulations, and structures that preserve the power and privilege of the elite. The voice insists what matters in life is to follow the rules so that you can keep your cupboards and treasure chests full, even if those same rules mean others are denied their fair share.

Jesus does not sit quietly and listen to the concerns of the unclean spirit. He does not allow the voice of lies, deceit, and unbelief to utter another single word. He has no time to waste rationalizing with such narrow-mindedness. Instead, Jesus commands this unclean spirit to be silenced and remove itself from the man. It does. All are amazed.

I like to think that all those who witnessed this event in the synagogue that Sabbath day left feeling free and emboldened to push the limits of society, ready to treat people with more respect and compassion than they had before. However, there were some whose hearts were hardened against the new gospel they were hearing and witnessing with their own eyes. They saw Jesus as an ornery rule-breaker. And when your identity, value, and salvation is tied up in maintaining the rules even if those rules oppress others, then ornery rule-breakers must be stopped at any cost. These men would conspire with other powerful people to rid themselves of this rebellious Jesus once and for all. They would, of course, fail.

Fortunately for human civilization, history is full of examples of people who have been in touch with the rebellious nature of the universal Christ and have gotten into “good trouble,” as the late Georgia Representative John Lewis liked to refer to it. John Lewis, leading the crowd of black southerners across the Edmund Pettus bridge to register to vote. Nelson Mandela and Desmond Tutu, raising the world’s awareness of the sin of apartheid in South Africa. Malala Yousafzai, shot in the head for demanding girls be given the right to be educated in Taliban-occupied Pakistan, only to survive and find an even louder voice. These are just a few of the stories most of us know well. But each day there are people who challenge rules and assumptions that only serve to preserve the power of the privileged. They get into good trouble.

God did not send Jesus into the world to sanction our worldly preoccupation with preserving our sense of power and privilege. God sent Jesus into the world to expose the sin of humankind, teach us a more beautiful way for all people, and remind us that we are forgiven even when we fail to follow that more beautiful way. In the coming days and weeks, I encourage you to get to know ornery Jesus. Ornery Jesus calls out injustice. Ornery Jesus calls out the unclean spirits that tell us our salvation lies in our power and privilege. Ornery Jesus looks at an obstacle as intimidating as a 60’ brick wall and says, “We can make it up there.”

Amen.

John 12:20-33

Now among those who went up to worship at the festival [of the Passover] were some Greeks. They came to Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee, and said to him, "Sir, we wish to see Jesus." Philip went and told Andrew; then Andrew and Philip went and told Jesus.

Jesus answered them, "The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there will my servant be also. Whoever serves me, the Father will honor.

"Now my soul is troubled. And what should I say--"Father, save me from this hour'? No, it is for this reason that I have come to this hour. Father, glorify your name."

Then a voice came from heaven, "I have glorified it, and I will glorify it again." The crowd standing there heard it and said that it was thunder. Others said, "An angel has spoken to him."

Jesus answered, "This voice has come for your sake, not for mine. Now is the judgment of this world; now the ruler of this world will be driven out. And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself." He said this to indicate the kind of death he was to die.

Once again the schedule of worship texts has us jumping around, so that today’s gospel story actually takes place following a couple familiar stories which we’ll hear during Holy Week. First, there’s the account of Mary (the sister of Martha and Lazarus) anointing Jesus’ feet with oil; at which point Jesus took the opportunity to tell his disciples that he will not always be with them. That is followed by Jesus’ entry to Jerusalem; which brought great crowds primarily because the story of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead had spread throughout the lands. Looking out at the crowds waving palm branches, the Pharisees said to one another, “It’s out of control; the world’s in a stampede after him” (Eugene Peterson, The Message).

Today we learn that some Greeks were among those who had come to see Jesus. These Greeks request an audience with Jesus. While the text does not elaborate on who exactly these Greeks are, the fact that they are referred to by their ethno-nationality is important. It tells us that the Jesus wave had crashed over onto the cosmopolitan culture of the Greeks. You know you’ve made it when the Greeks show up.

And so Jesus says that his time has come.

Previously in John’s gospel account Jesus has said, “It is not yet time.” Like at the wedding in Cana when he turns water into wine (John 2) or when he accompanies his brothers to the Festival of Booths and nearly starts a riot (John 7).

But now the time has come. And what’s different about this time? The Greeks; they have shown up and present the possibility of cultural influence, wealth, and power.

Imagine it like this: you write a story and share it with your friends. They enjoyed it and shared it with their friends, who shared it with their friends, until it reaches the desk of Steven Spielberg, who, naturally, loves it and hops on a plan bound for Indianapolis to find you.

The arrival of the Greeks is like Steven Spielberg knocking on your door saying, “I want to make a movie based on your story; I want to make you rich and famous.” It is the cultural stamp of approval; the proof that Jesus “made it” in the world; the indication that the Jesus movement was going viral.

When Jesus learns that even the Greeks want to cozy up to him, he responds by saying, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified.”

Except, that doesn’t mean what we think it means.

Being glorified means something completely different to Jesus than it did to the Greeks.

Jesus could not have cared less about the cultural markers of success of his day (which are not very different from today) because Jesus wasn’t playing the same game as everyone else. His goal was not to become a billionaire or a Hollywood success story. He had no desire to trend on social media; nor to partner with or benefit from the powerful and influential cultures of his day.

The glorification of the Son of Man is not measured in awards, endorsements, legions of fans, tons of money, a key to society’s inner circle, or even the size of a Christian congregation today. Rather, the glorification of the Son of Man will come in death, like what happens when a single grain of wheat falls to the earth only to give life to new sprouts of wheat. These sprouts will mature and drop dozens more seeds into the ground, which in turn multiply new sprouts and new seeds.

Jesus rejects the cultural and religious claims to power; instead, he embraces death. In so doing, he offends the Greeks, the Jews, his own disciples, and anyone else who had bought into the false promises of prosperity broadcast by the powers and principalities.

Instead of becoming a part of the system of success, with its elite few carried on the shoulders of the masses; Jesus promises to drive out “the ruler of this world” and “draw all people to [him]self.”

As always, you need to draw your own conclusions about how this story is relevant to your life. But here are some ideas.…

We could stop striving for the world’s illusion of acceptance and affirmation. For example, the number of friends we have or “likes” we get on our social media posts have no correlation to our value.

We could pause and evaluate whether we are contributing to a system of abundance for all people, or a system of accumulation of stuff for just ourselves. Could we be convinced that the increasing gap between the rich and poor is a spiritual issue?

We could allow our faith to send us out onto the dangerous front lines where our convictions intersect with injustice, willing to risk everything on behalf of others.

Last week the Vatican announced the canonization of Oscar Romero, who was an Archbishop of the Roman Catholic Church in El Salvador. Archbishop Romero was a passionate and outspoken advocate for the poor and oppressed as well as a fierce proponent of nonviolent resistance. His theology and activism put him at odds with political and military leaders in his country, and at odds with the larger church, who thought his was too political.

On March 23, 1980 Archbishop Romero preached a message calling out human rights violations in his country and demanding soldiers end to the violence of El Salvador’s civil war. He said, “In the name of this suffering people, whose cries rise to heaven each day more tumultuous, I beseech you, I beg you, I order you, in the name of God, stop the repression.”

One day later, while celebrating mass at a hospital, Archbishop Romero was shot and killed by a death squad.

He almost assuredly knew that his path would lead to his death, as he drew inspiration from his close friend Jesuit Father Rutilio Grande, who was also assassinated for his own work seeking justice for the poor in El Salvador in three yeas earlier. Certainly both men drew inspiration from another man who also suffered for his fierce advocacy on behalf of the vulnerable as well as his pointed antagonisms against the powers of his day. That man, of course is Jesus.

Faith in Christ must always be outwardly evident and counter-cultural. Jesus did not promise safety and security for those who would claim to follow him. Instead, we, with our beautiful churches and positions of social privilege, must be ready to give it all up on a moment’s notice. That’s the message of Jesus; it is strength disguised as weakness, and it is no wonder that even his closest followers turned on him. May we do better.

Amen.