Mark 10:2-16

Some Pharisees came, and to test him they asked, "Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife?" He answered them, "What did Moses command you?" They said, "Moses allowed a man to write a certificate of dismissal and to divorce her." But Jesus said to them, "Because of your hardness of heart he wrote this commandment for you. But from the beginning of creation, "God made them male and female.' "For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.' So they are no longer two, but one flesh. Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate."

Then in the house the disciples asked him again about this matter. He said to them, "Whoever divorces his wife and marries another commits adultery against her; and if she divorces her husband and marries another, she commits adultery."

People were bringing little children to him in order that he might touch them; and the disciples spoke sternly to them. But when Jesus saw this, he was indignant and said to them, "Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs. Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it." And he took them up in his arms, laid his hands on them, and blessed them.

The reality of divorce recently touched my life. I didn’t know how to respond because it’s not something I’ve ever had much exposure to.

One set of my grandparents divorced before I was born. My grandfather remarried and moved to Arizona; my grandmother remained single and stayed across town from my family in Northwest Ohio. As a little guy growing up in that reality, and not knowing any different, their divorce wasn’t really a big deal. In fact, I thought I was pretty special given that I was the only one of my friends who could say I had five grandparents!

At some point in elementary school I learned that the parents of one of my best friends were going through a divorce. The experience seemed to change him and we drifted apart. Looking back, I’m sure the growing distance between us was due largely to my inability to understand the turmoil and uncertainty that characterized his life in that time.

All the way through college, early adulthood, and my first few years pastoring in the church, divorce was something that I rarely dealt with; and so I felt completely ill-prepared when, back in April, I learned that my college roommate’s wife abruptly left him. Brian and I hadn’t kept in close contact since graduation, but my wife and I had been to his wedding a few years earlier and we had just spent a wonderful couple of days together the previous summer.

I found out about the divorce via an email from a mutual friend. He explained Brian had told him of the situation–that she blindsided him with the announcement that she didn’t want to be married to him any longer. She told him they would be going separate directions once they closed on the sale of their home (which had already been on the market, as they were planning to move across states). The mutual friend’s email concluded with a suggestion that I get in touch with Brian to show my support.

The idea of reaching out to Brian sounded terrifying to me…crappy as that is to admit.

I found it terrifying because I had no idea what to say. Honestly, my first inclination was to avoid the issue; fortunately I realized that was a dumb and dangerous idea. My second idea was to pull out my pastoral care counseling book from seminary and read through the chapter on divorce. Because, you know, if you were going through something awful, you’d want your friend to first brush up on all the right things to say before he or she reached out to you…or not.

Ultimately, I decided to reach out to Brian, not with well-researched and well-thought-out words, but, rather, with words of unconditional love. I told him I didn’t know what to say, and I certainly didn’t have any advice for him. I told him, “I know you are strong, compassionate, and worthy of a healthy and happy relationship…. Whatever the outcome, be yourself - the Brian we know and love.”

I’ve been fortunate to have had two opportunities to spend time with Brian since learning this news. The most recent occasion happened to coincide with my skin cancer surgery on my nose. We spent the morning after my surgery talking around my kitchen table and he seemed to be at ease. With the bandage over my nose and my black and blue left eye swollen shut I probably looked like he felt on the inside – beat up and scarred by the removal of something that was once a part of him but was cut out before it could do any more damage.

I didn’t say very much either of the times we talked. I knew that my role was to listen and love; which made me feel even worse about my initial instincts to avoid the situation or to address it with “right” answers from a textbook.

People who have experienced the loss of a relationship need assurance that they are worthy of love. Often the best way to communicate this is by being present, quiet, and kind.

The Christian church, unfortunately, doesn’t have a great record of being present, quiet, and kind towards people who have experienced divorce. Some churches still today don’t allow people who are divorced to be members or take communion. After all, scripture such as the gospel text from today makes it clear divorce is a consequence of our sinful nature–what Jesus refers to as “hardness of heart” in today’s gospel, which is the same term used to describe the Pharaoh’s repeated refusal to free the Israelite slaves in the book of Exodus.

Marriage is meant to be an institution of mutual respect, support, and love. In the time that Jesus uttered these seemingly-harsh words against divorce, marriage was one of the only ways for women to have protection and value. Divorce was practically a death sentence to the women and children of a marriage. Hence Jesus’ interpretation of the law of Moses in front of the pharisees and the disciples. His words challenged a system in which the letter of the law failed to honor relationships and protect the vulnerable. His message was that people are not disposable; no matter how justifiable their disposal is under the law.

In the name of Jesus, the church must always remain steadfast in its insistence on showing grace. Surely God’s love rests on those suffering through a marriage that is ending. Surely God’s grace is upon those who can no longer maintain a healthy relationship for a myriad of reasons.

Today’s Christian church can uphold marriage as an ideal institution of mutual respect, support, and love without condemning those whose marriage was not filled with respect, support, or love.

The church can and should give tools for a healthy, life-giving marriage model and still be a welcoming and encouraging place for those for whom marriage was neither healthy nor life-giving.

Each of us in our own ways are broken. We all have “hard hearts” about one thing or another. We gather as often as we can as a part of the church of Christ because church is a place where our broken bits can be pieced back together with the broken bits of others. Together we reassemble around the gift of the true, life-giving, word of God in water, bread, wine, and the word-elements that equip us to overcome our fears, our lack of answers, our hard hearts, so that we can we can sit with the suffering, proclaim the truth of God’s unconditional love, and create new life-giving relationships in the name of Jesus.

Amen.

The story goes that after an evening out, some parents returned home to their children, whom they had left with the baby sitter. They were pleasantly surprised to find the kids fast asleep. When the sitter had been paid–just as she was walking out the door–she communicated this detail: “Oops-almost forgot to tell you. I promised the kids that if they would stay in bed, you would take them to Disneyland tomorrow.”

Fortunately, that circumstance hasn’t been a part of our experiences with babysitters, but it is true that ever since my wife and I became parents, we have had to pay particular attention to the way we use promises.

Making promises with our children often seems like the only way out of difficult situations. We promise rewards or treats if our kids can manage to recover their sanity in the midst of tantrums or other difficult behavior. We promise punishment if negative behavior continues. And when the kids are scared or worried, we promise that everything will be ok.

Pay attention to how often you make promises in any given day. We make promises not just in matters of parenting, but also with other relationships including co-workers, employees, siblings, parents, partners, and so on.

Making promises can be incredibly virtuous or incredibly deceitful. The difference lies in the intent and ability of the promise-giver to actually see the promise come true. The example that began today’s message is an example of an inappropriate promise. We can’t make promises on behalf of other people; nor can we make promises that we either have no interest or ability in helping to come true (as the babysitter did).

Also, promises create precedence. If a child throws a tantrum when you are trying to get him or her out the door, you might be inclined to say, “If you cooperate I promise we can stop by Target and buy a toy from the dollar spot.” You better believe that by doing so, a precedent has been set. Next time the child refuses to cooperate with your efforts to get out the door, he or she will expect you to offer a trip to Target to purchase a toy, which is fine as long as you intend to fulfill your promise in perpetuity – or at least until the child grows tired of collecting cheap, plastic knickknacks.

As I read these initial chapters of Genesis I am tempted to view God as a parent who is trying to figure out the best way to respond to children in the throes of a tantrum. Last week as we explored the stories of the first sin, Cain murdering Abel, and Noah’s Ark, we saw plenty of examples of God responding to unruly humankind with all manner of threats, curses, and punishment – each leading to an even greater sin and even greater punishment – to the point where God decided to begin all over again and destroys the Earth. Not only did God regret this action and vow never to do it again, but only a couple verses later and Noah’s righteous family has proven anything but righteous…and the pattern of sin and punishment continues.

However, by the time Abram arrives on the scene, God has decided to try a different tack – as opposed to punishing past offenses, God engages in proactive promises. God promises to make an ordinary man one of the key figures of human history. God promises to give a child to a woman whose ninety years of life have proven anything but fertile.

Abram and Sarai respond to God’s promises in interesting and wide-ranging ways:

Abram agrees to pick up and move to the promised land with no certainty, which is admirable.
Abram then fears for his life and pretends his wife is his sister so that she would marry the Pharaoh and ensure their safe passage, which is detestable.
Sarai becomes impatient and convinces Abram to sleep with, and impregnate, her servant, Hagar, which is, well, I’m not sure what adjective to use here.
Then, Sarai laughs out loud at God’s promise that she would give birth to a son in her old age, which is understandable.

These varied responses not only make for an entertaining story, but they demonstrate the profound message that the validity of God’s promises do not rest on our ability to make them come true. God’s promises are not contingent on our worthiness or correct responses to every situation. This is a remarkable shift in God’s dealings with humankind.

“All these views of blessing hang on a single theological premise: God chooses to remain intimately connected to the creation and particularly to the flesh and blood that became human when God mixed dust with God’s own breath…. Time after time, God cannot quit on the chosen but failed agents of blessing. To do so would be to abandon all hope for the world or to suffer a complete loss of face and reputation….the evidence of what it would eventually cost God to pin God’s hopes on flesh and blood appears all through the Scriptures. From the vantage point of Golgotha, the question was never whether, but only when, that faithfulness would finally cost God life itself.”

— Frederick Niedner

This shift in how God interacts with humankind demonstrates that there is yet another factor in determining the virtuousness of promises. Good, life-giving, promises not only in the intent and ability of the promise-giver to actually see the promise come true; but good, life-giving promises also require empathy – a willingness enter fully into the life of another.

As I studied pastoral care, first in a classroom and then in a hospital setting as a chaplain, it was common to use the analogy of a dark pit. Imagine one who is suffering as sitting in a dark pit with no clearly visible way out. When we care for someone who is suffering, our impulse is to send down a ladder to the pit. The ladders Christians like to use are the classic one-liners like “I promise everything will be ok” or “I promise this all happened for a reason” or “I promise God doesn’t give you more than you can handle” and so on.

Ladders seem like a fine way to get out of a pit…especially when we’re the ones standing at the top, looking down. But ladders always seem rickety and obtrusive to the people at the bottom, if they reach down that far at all.

Another natural tendency is to go down to the pit to rescue the person who’s suffering. We stand at the top and, frankly, the pit of despair doesn’t seem like it’s really that deep. We think the person who is suffering is being over-dramatic. So we promise “I’ll save you!” We jump down, grab a hold of the suffering person, and tug and pull them with all our might and self-righteousness, only to find their weight is too much to bear alone.

The third way, however, is the way of empathy. The empathetic promise is the one that says, “I will be with you.” The empathetic promise is the one that sends us down to the pit simply to sit beside the suffering one, so that we can truly understand the depth of their emotion and serve as a healing and patient presence of love in the darkness.

God’s promise to Sarah and Abraham, and to their descendants (of which we are adopted) is the empathic promise of presence in our pain. Through the first creation, the rainbow covenant, and now the promise of blessing to Sarah and Abraham, God intends and is able to see God’s promises to creation come true and is willing to dwell completely with us to prove God’s steadfast love.

Amen.

Frederick Niedner quote from Feasting on the Word, Year A, vol. 2, p54

"Responding Without Answers" – Mark 10:2-16

G2A #3: "Promises, Promises" – Genesis 12-21