Pastor Aaron

Dying to be a Success

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. 

Mural of Oscar Romero in El Salvador.

Mural of Oscar Romero in El Salvador.

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.
 

The Temptation of Redemptive Violence

Mark 8:31-38

Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man 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. He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. But turning and looking at his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”

He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to 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? Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels.


Two weeks ago we explored the story of Jesus transfigured on the mountain. If you recall, that message centered on the idea of cruciform discipleship. Today’s gospel story is the scene that unfolds immediately prior to the ascent up the mountain, making today’s message something of a prequel. 

The scene begins following Jesus’ question to the disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” To which Peter replied, “You are the Messiah.” 

Today’s gospel scene makes a pretty bold and startling claim about what being the Messiah actually means. Namely, it involves great suffering, rejection, and death. Resurrection, yes; but by the time that bit of good news gets to Peter’s ears, he has already stopped listening. And chances are, we have stopped listening also.

Peter rebukes Jesus for talking about suffering, rejection, and death; just as he will do again a few verses later on the mountain in the presence of the transfigured Christ. Peter suggests Jesus has it all wrong because that’s not how the story is supposed to go. Suffering? Rejection? Death? No, no, and no. Their ancestors already been there and done that for far too long.

The Messiah was to usher in a new age of peace and prosperity for God’s chosen people; an age of peace and prosperity that would come about once they have had the chance to engage in all the nasty, violent, angry, evil stuff against their enemies. The people who had endured generations of great suffering, rejection, and death were ready to dish it out in kind, teaching their enemies a lesson. Peace would follow, but only after more violence. It would only be fair and just.

It was an approach to peace-making modeled efficiently by millennia of occupiers; most recently, Rome. Caesar was Lord. Caesar promised and brought the good news of peace to the nations; albeit, a peace produced by the blade of a sword. All who threatened the peace were killed. This system had worked incredibly well for the Romans as their boundaries spread into multiple continents. The Hebrew people were simply awaiting their turn, when their Lord would come, lead them into battle, and vanquish all their enemies so they could finally enjoy the blood-stained peace for which they had fought.

There’s something tempting about the notion of repaying violence with violence. Something exciting, invigorating, alluring, and even instinctive. It’s a very human thing. Repaying an insult with an insult. Passing and cutting off a driver who cut you off. Wishing some degree of bad fortune on “those people.” Killing people who kill people. Repaying violence with violence…the examples are everywhere. 

Last week I went to the theater to watch a movie and most of the movie previews preceding the show were about a man who had something awful happen to him so he sets off to kill everyone who could have had a hand in it. There are so many movies that tell this same story because it is a fool-proof formula for profit. People are willing to pay to watch someone use violence to rectify the world and rid it of the violent people. It speaks to a very human part of our nature. And it is tempting to see this as an appropriate way to engage with the world. 

If there had been theaters instead of gladiator games for entertainment in these times, Peter would have wanted a Bruce Willis-type Messiah. After all Die Hard is a much better title for a movie about a Savior than Suffer, Be Rejected, and Die.

The desire to use violence to rid the world of violence is a human thing. Which is why Jesus rebukes Peter’s rebuke with the statement, "Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”

Revenge is a human thing; not a divine thing. The myth of redemptive violence (the idea that violence is an appropriate response to violence) is a human thing; not a divine thing. 

Notice, that Jesus refers to Peter as “Satan.” The first reference to Satan in Mark’s gospel was when Jesus went into the wilderness following his baptism, where he was tempted by Satan for 40 days and 40 nights. Satan is temptation personified. And the only things that tempt us are the things we crave but know that we should avoid. 

We confess Jesus was fully divine and fully human. In this exchange with Peter, Jesus’ full human-ness is on display. Peter tells him he should walk down the path of victory through violence. Jesus is tempted; otherwise he would have not have called Peter the name of temptation personified. For an instant he peers into that probable future of might, conquest, and revenge. But then he turns his back on the tempter. Jesus looks at his disciples and fully commits himself to the path that will lead to victory through suffering, rejection, and death. Not only does he commit to follow this path, but he instructs any who would follow him to pick up their cross and walk the same path.

There is much that needs to be said about the myth of redemptive violence – the idea that violence can be used as an instrument of good. I cannot adequately unpack this profound idea in a few minutes here, but I would like to point to the words of theologian Walter Wink, who writes, 

"The myth of redemptive violence is the simplest, laziest, most exciting, uncomplicated, irrational, and primitive depiction of evil the world has ever known…. By making violence pleasurable, fascinating and entertaining, the Powers are able to delude people into compliance with a system that is cheating them of their very lives."*

Violence begets violence; and violent actions are just as deadly for the perpetuator as the victim.

Jesus’ instruction to pick up crosses and follow him are not just prohibitions against violence. It is more an invitation to live a full life that exudes the divine force of peace throughout the world. 

Consider Jesus’ call as an invitation for you to notice when the tempting tunes of violence and revenge sing their siren songs. Notice when the voice in your head turns violent, insisting that either you yourself or those people over there deserve to be punished. Boldly proclaim the same mantra Jesus used when he was tempted, “Get behind me, Satan.”

Amen.

 

* Walter Wink. The Powers That Be: Theology for a New Millennium