Sentness – Shared Life

Mark 2:1-12

When Jesus returned to Capernaum after some days, it was reported that he was at his home. So many gathered around that there was no room for them, even in front of the door, and he was reading the word to them. Then some people came, bringing with them a paralyzed man, carried by four of them. When they could not get the man near to Jesus, because of the crowd, they removed the roof above him; and, after having dug through it, they lowered the mat on which the paralytic lay. When Jesus saw their faith he said to the man, “Son, your sins are forgiven.”

Now there were scribes there who were questioning in their hearts, “Why does this fellow speak in in this way? It is blasphemy! Who can forgive sins, but God alone?” Jesus perceived in his spirit that they were asking these questions among themselves, so he said to them, “Why do you raise these questions in your hearts? What is easier, for me to say to the paralyzed man, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Stand, take up your mat, and walk?’

‘But, so that you know that the Son of God has power on earth to forgive sins – he said to the paralyzed man – stand, take up your mat and go to your home.’” And the man stood up and immediately went out before all of them. And they were all amazed and glorified God saying, “We have never seen anything like this!”

---

Who doesn’t love a good miracle story like this one?  I think it’s great when Jesus shows off his super powers. It’s good news when someone gets healed. And I especially like it, here, when Jesus does it all with an added dose of snark and sarcasm. Did you catch that?

When the scribes are grumbling about whether Jesus, that carpenter’s kid from Nazareth, could possibly have the power to forgive sins? And Jesus says something like, “Really? That’s what you’re worried about here?” And he asks them, “What’s harder, do you suppose, to forgive sins or to make a paralyzed man stand up and walk?” It was a rhetorical question, of course. Jesus knows no one believed he had the power to cure paralysis any more than they thought his forgiveness was worth a lick. So when Jesus does one – sends that paralyzed guy packing…walking home, with his mat under his arm – everyone has to believe that he’s done the other, too; that his forgiveness is just as real, that it counts just as much as that miracle they all saw stand up and walk right out of the room.

And that’s all well and good. And most of the time, when we hear this story, we celebrate the miracle of Jesus’ healing and move on. But today in the context of our sermon series – as we keep wondering about what it looks like to be “SENT” in as many ways as God means to send us as believers into the world – I want to talk about this familiar story in a different way.

Today we’re talking about “Shared Life,” so what matters most about this story, this time around, has as much to do with the four friends who carried the mat bearing the paralyzed man to Jesus, as it does with the paralyzed man and his healing. That’s why this story – and the love, devotion, and faith of these four friends – paints a picture of what “Shared Life” might look like for the people of God.

See, while everyone else was gathered around listening to and learning from Jesus(not altogether wrong or bad or unfaithful ways to be, mind you), these four friends were living the word Jesus was talking about. They were raising the roof, quite literally. They were digging through the ceiling. They were on their hands and knees, getting down and dirty, doing whatever they could to help a brother out.

And no matter how you look at it, all of it is both the result of their Shared Life and it’s their Shared Life in action, too, right before the eyes of whoever was paying attention. These friends were on a mission, really. They had a sick friend who needed help. He had a need, so they had a need.

So, that’s how I want us to think about this idea of a “Shared Life,” too. In this Sentness book we’ve been talking about, they say you can identify “Shared Life” by the quality of the relationships between people, by the power of trust between people, by the wonder of generosity between people…all things those friends showed and shared when they got help for their friend in today’s Gospel. “Shared Life” means staying with… walking alongside… abiding… and it’s what we’re called to as believers in the world and as Partners in Mission in this place.

Shared Life means the way some of you responded to my announcement last week to help Ruth Jensen and Elna Keyt and Barth Gish with the same sort of compassion and presence as we’ve been able to so generously help Alta Ford these last few weeks. “Sharing Life” means bringing food, sharing conversations, running errands, spending time.

Shared Life means those of you who will join me Wednesday night to re-boot our Eucharistic Ministry program here by learning about sharing communion with people who can’t get to worship as often as they’d like. If sharing bread and wine and the promise of God’s grace and forgiveness isn’t “Shared Life,” I don’t know what is.

Shared Life means heading back to Haiti in June. There’s so much “Shared Life” on a trip like that, I can’t even tell you – with and among those who make the trip from our congregation and with and among our friends in Fondwa, who are always so obviously and pleasantly and genuinely glad to see us coming back year after year to work alongside them, to learn from them, and to share with them whatever faith and friendship we’re able to offer.

And Shared Life means our Mardi Gras party, too, believe it or not. You know I like a good party as much as the next guy, and that I don’t need much of an excuse to throw one. And I don’t mean to suck the fun and debauchery out of all that Mardi Gras can be. But the reason we host that party – and the reason we throw any of the other parties we host around here – is because we share life when we eat and drink and laugh and tell stories and love one another in those ways, too.

I saw some Shared Life last night, too, at the gym, when some of our 6th and 7th graders from Cross of Grace weren’t too cool to play and have fun with some of our elementary school kids on the basketball court. Sometimes it’s the little things that get your attention.

And Shared Life means baptizing Deena Anderson, like we’ll do tonight at 5 o’clock. Deena has been waiting for the right time to celebrate her baptism, even though she’s been around here for quite awhile. She’s been waiting for her friends and her neighbors, Tom and Bev Bancroft to be able to join her for the baptism, because they’ve been an important part of what brought her to Cross of Grace. They’ve “shared life” in some meaningful, holy, lovely ways and Deena’s baptism will be a sacred celebration of that for them all. (I wouldn’t say that Tom and Bev held her mat, or that Deena needed to be carried, necessarily. But they held her hand, maybe. And they’ve walked with and alongside her to this water, I think it’s fair to say.)

And that’s what Sharing Life looks like. It means loving one another, purely and simply, the way God has first loved us: by showing up, by loving well, by praying hard, by helping generously, by carrying someone and by letting ourselves be carried, too, if and when we need it.

What I think is most interesting about the guy who gets healed in the story is something that the authors of Sentness don’t address. What I think is interesting is what we’re told about the moment Jesus declares the paralyzed guy’s forgiveness. According to the Gospel, the four friends remove the roof, the four friends dig through the ceiling, and the four friends lower their friend down before Jesus. And we’re told that when Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralyzed man, “Son, your sins are forgiven.” When he saw their faith, the paralyzed man gets his miracle.

I like that because it reminds us that they’re all in it together – that we’re all in this together. My life and faith stands to impact your life and faith. Your life and faith stands to impact my life and faith. Our life and faith together – when we share it, generously and with gratitude, for the blessing and benefit of one another – can change things, for the better; it can change things for the world around us; and it can change things, by God’s grace, for the people with whom we share life as we know it.

Amen

Sentness – Shalom Spirituality

Mark 12:28-34

One of the scribes came near and heard them disputing with one another, and seeing that [Jesus] answered them well, he asked him, ‘Which commandment is the first of all?’ Jesus answered, ‘The first is, “Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one; you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.” The second is this, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” There is no other commandment greater than these.’”

Then the scribe said to him, ‘You are right, Teacher; you have truly said that “he is one, and besides him there is no other”; and “to love him with all the heart, and with all the understanding, and with all the strength”, and “to love one’s neighbor as oneself”,—this is much more important than all whole burnt-offerings and sacrifices.’ When Jesus saw that he answered wisely, he said to him, ‘You are not far from the kingdom of God.’ After that no one dared to ask him any question.

So, I like this bit of Mark’s Gospel for a couple of reasons related to this theme of “Shalom Spirituality.” For one thing, I think understanding Jesus’ response to the scribe who questions him is how we get to/how we experience what I would call “shalom spirituality.” (You gotta put God first and love God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength.) And when you do, you’re more likely to see and to trust and to live like “you are not far from the kingdom of God.”

I like that, because I want to know how to achieve this “shalom spirituality” in my life. And I think it’s something Jesus wants for all of us, too. I think “Shalom Spirituality” is living your life, recognizing that you’re never far from the kingdom of God. Even more, I think “Shalom Spirituality” is living your life in celebration of – and in response to – the truth of that fact, that you are never far from the kingdom of God.

And the authors of this Sentness book do a good job of reminding us that shalom means something bigger than we usually think – if we think anything – about the word. We’ve all heard the word before, right? But most of us limit it to meaning “peace” or maybe we consider it to be some sort of greeting or welcome – like something you say when you meet someone or like something printed on a mat outside someone’s front door, maybe.

But like so many other words or phrases or themes in Scripture, these limited understandings suck the life and power and depth of meaning from what “shalom” can really mean for us. “Shalom” means a “universal kind of flourishing,” “a whole, holy kind of wholeness,” “an all-encompassing delight and joy.” The Sentness authors describe it as a way of being that inspires joyful wonder…that opens doors…that welcomes, most fully, in the name of God. As they say in the book, “shalom” is the way things ought to be.

I think about the promises of Scripture when I think of “shalom”…when the wisdom of the prophets point to how the fullness of God’s redemption will look when it comes to pass. “Shalom” is heaven – here on earth. And “shalom” is heaven – in the world that is to come for us all.

I think "shalom" is like that promise from Isaiah, where he said, "they shall beat their swords into plow-shares, and their spears into pruning-hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore."

I think "shalom" is like Amos' God-given command to "let justice roll down like water and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream."

I think "shalom" happens when we achieve what is good, according to God's words to the prophet Micah, when we do what the Lord requires, by doing justice, by loving kindness, by walking humbly with God.

I think "shalom" looks like the future we read about in Revelation, where there will be no mourning or crying or pain any longer; when death will be no more when God will wipe every tear from our eyes, except, I'm guessing, the tears of joy that come with this kind of "shalom."

And I think Jesus points to this “shalom” stuff when he reminds the disciples – and us – that he came so that God’s joy, the joy of our creator, would live within us; and so that our joy might be complete…full…overflowing… more joy than we think we can handle, even.

So I wonder what that kind of “shalom” looks like for you…for me…for us as people on the planet. My guess is we’re still waiting for it. My hunch is it seems beyond us most days…out of our reach…impossible…intangible…unlikely, at best. Like, we’re going to have to wait for Jesus to help us get our hands on some of that kind of “shalom.”

But I don’t it has to be that way – or that that’s what God intends to be true for us – as God’s children in the world. I think we are made to experience and to share this sort of “shalom” often and abundantly and that we can do that when we realize, like that scribe in Mark’s Gospel for today, that there are moments when we – you and I – are not far from the kingdom of God, ourselves.

So, I wonder, can you think of “shalom moments” from your life’s experience? Moments when all seemed right with the world? Moments when, in your little corner of the kingdom, there was peace, wholeness, fulfillment, and real joy?

I can think of a few. Some are easy right? Like the moment at the end of my wedding ceremony where Christa and I held hands, looked out at the gathering of our closest family and friends and listened to a friend sing the final verse of Pete Seeger’s “The Water is Wide.” (Holy Shalom, Batman!) Like the moment I first held each of my boys in the hospital delivery room and could tell, just by looking at them, that they were full of Havel genes. (Not that there was any doubt.)

We’ve all had  moments like that, I hope…when all the right people are gathered ‘round…when all seems right with the world.  Maybe it was your last Christmas dinner, a family reunion, a party with your closest friends – the ones who might as well be family – and you all know it. Or maybe it’s more simple than that, when whoever matters most is home for supper on a regular old Tuesday night.

I felt God’s kind of “shalom” the last time our group of Mission Trippers partied in Fondwa, Haiti – I mean really partied – sharing food and drinks; dancing and clapping and climbing banana trees, for crying out loud. Two worlds coming together like that – literally without even words to express the fullness of it all – that’s “shalom” if you ask me.

I felt another kind of “shalom” this past New Year’s Eve at the funeral for my friend’s wife. We cried hard, heavy, holy tears for Shay, who had died, and for her husband and young son in the morning during worship and as we gathered at the cemetery to say goodbye one last time. And there were more and different kinds of tears later that night, when the clock struck midnight and the ball dropped and the party danced and jumped to one of Shay’s favorite songs.

And, as sad and scary as the last few weeks after Janis Janelsins’ stroke and hospitalization have been, I’ve sensed a very real spirit of “shalom” around here as we’ve prayed and worried, prayed some more and wondered, prayed again and worked to make things happen at Cross of Grace without Janis and Anne – and for Janis and Anne – who are at the center of so much of the ministry we share.

Yeah, I think there’s “shalom” even at times of sadness, and struggle like these.

Because, for my money, “shalom spirituality” is about being “not far from the kingdom of God.” And God’s kingdom is as near to us when we’re struggling as it is when we’re celebrating. We – like so many others – just need some help remembering that a lot of the time.

See, this “Shalom Spirituality” stuff means being about the kind of living Jesus describes – where we’re loving God with all of our heart, mind, soul, and strength; and where we’re loving and caring for our neighbors at least as much as we love and care for ourselves. And I think we do that, first, by worshipping the God of our creation as often as we can; by humbling ourselves in the presence of our maker as often as we’re able; by centering ourselves – at least daily – through prayer and meditation and listening to and studying God’s word.

Because when we do these things, our eyes and ears and hearts and minds are more open to notice and to go after and to receive the kingdom so that we can share it often…and abundantly…and without reservation…with the people in our lives who are looking, too, but who can’t seem to find it; those people who are living in the midst of, but don’t see it; those people who – just like us – are already part of the very kingdom that God so wants us all to recognize as shalom: which is nothing more or less than the love of God… the joy of our maker…the hope of the world… it is heaven in our midst and, by the grace of God, we are never far from it.

Amen