“Listen to him!” (Sunday, Jan. 28th, 2018; Dt. 18.15-20; Ps. 95; 1 Cor. 7.32-35; St. Mark 1.21-28)
Make it happen!
When I was at military boot camp last summer, I had the opportunity – on
a daily basis – to witness just how
authority works. Of course, part of
the boot camp experience is to develop one’s leadership. Each day, one of us would have the
opportunity to be the “course senior”, a type of liaison person between the instructors and the other members of the
platoon. Naturally, playing this type of
role came more naturally to certain people than to others. I remember one particular day when we were on
an exercise at a “forward operating base” in the forest. At that point, we were 3 weeks into our training;
we were tired, disoriented and were not functioning as a unit; to make matters
worse, that day’s “course senior” was unable to get us to carry out our
orders. Now, there was one member of our
platoon that had distinguished herself early on in the course as being a natural leader. This young woman serves as a nurse in a
reserve army unit. She had more military
experience than any of us and was very
adept at giving orders. In fact, many of
us found her to be quite bossy. However, on that morning at the forward
operating base, as our course senior was failing to communicate our mission to
us and as we were spending a lot of time getting
nothing done, the instructors turned to this young woman and gave her a
very simple, direct – and loud –
order: “Make it happen!” And she did.
This nurse got our attention, told us what to do, and worked alongside
us. We
listened to her and as a result, we were able to accomplish our task. True
authority makes things happen.
Who does he think he is?
As the narrative of St. Mark’s Gospel gets under way, the first thing to
strike people about Jesus is his authority,
his power. Jesus’ authority is a major theme for St. Mark; it is
challenged and questioned from the beginning of the story all the way to the
end. In today’s reading, Jesus goes into
the synagogue in Capernaum and teaches
the Scriptures, without citing other “authorities” – Jesus didn’t quote
previous interpretations by Rabbi so-and-so; he merely said, “This is the way
it is, period”. Jesus made sense of the
Bible the way that only an author can make sense of his own book. And yet, Jesus
had no credentials. No one – or
so it was assumed – had authorised
him to teach God’s people how to understand God’s word or how to behave, or
what to believe. No one had given him permission to do …anything. And yet, wherever Jesus was, things happened. People’s minds were enlightened; people were
liberated from demonic oppression, were cured of various illnesses, were
forgiven their sins; even nature itself
was obedient to Jesus. In Mark chapter
4, as Jesus and the disciples are crossing the lake of Galilee, a storm blows
up and threatens to sink their boat.
Jesus commands the wind and the waves to “Be quiet!” …and then, Mark
tells us, “there was a dead calm”. The
disciples in the boat, like the people in the Capernaum synagogue, are amazed
and ask each other, “Who is this?”
(cf. 4.41). That is indeed the
question. Who does this guy think he is?
Jesus got under people’s skin. He
didn’t respect “the way things are supposed to work”, “the way it’s always
been”. He acted as if he answered to no
one …besides, perhaps, God himself.
Satan or God?
In Mark chapter 2, Jesus declares to a paralyzed man that his sins are
forgiven. The theologians in the crowd –
the “scribes” – are outraged and say amongst themselves, “Who can forgive sins
but God alone?” (cf. 2.7). Exactly. Jesus hadn’t said to the paralyzed man, “God
forgives you”. That would have been
audacious enough. No, Jesus had simply
told him, “Your sins are forgiven”.
Jesus isn’t claiming to speak for
God. Jesus speaks as if …he is God.
Jesus speaks and acts in such a way that people are forced to make a decision about him – the man from
Nazareth is either seriously deluded (or worse), or else he is who he is implicitly claiming to be. In chapter 3, Jesus is accused of acting with
the power of Satan. That’s how high the stakes are concerning Jesus.
The challenge for all those who heard Jesus speak
and saw him act was to discern whether what
was happening around Jesus was what one would expect to happen if the
kingdom of God was being established. What would it look like if God was in
charge? When John the Baptist was
wondering if Jesus was indeed the One
God’s people were waiting for, Jesus
replied:
“Go and tell John what
you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers
are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news
brought to them” (Mt. 11.4-5).
When the
scribes complained that Jesus had told the paralyzed man that his sins were
forgiven, Jesus told them, “I will offer you evidence that I have authority to forgive sins” …and then proceeded
to heal the man (cf. 2.10-12). That’s the challenge – if what is happening
around Jesus is what would happen if God was
using his power, then what do you conclude? If you believe that when Jesus acts, God
acts; if you believe that when Jesus speaks, God speaks – then the natural
thing to do is to follow him, to trust
him, to obey him, to surrender your life to him. If you don’t believe that, then the logical
thing to do with Jesus would be to get
rid of him. Of course, if you read
all the way to the end of Mark’s Gospel, that is precisely what happens when
Jesus arrives in Jerusalem – his authority
is questioned by those in power, they come to their conclusion, and then arrange for Jesus to be killed.
A prophet like me. Our first reading today is from the book of Deuteronomy,
which is Moses’ farewell address to
the nation of Israel. Moses tells God’s
people that at some point in the future, God will send “a prophet like him” to
speak his words to the people. Moses was
the prophet par excellence. When Yahweh had revealed his glory and given
his law to his people at Mt. Sinai, the Israelites had been so terrified of
God’s presence that they begged Moses to go up the mountain alone, converse with God and then
transmit his message to them. Now, Moses
tells the people that after he is gone, someone else will come and be Yahweh’s
spokesman. Moses urges God’s people to listen to that prophet. The New Testament is clear that Jesus is the one whose coming Moses had promised (cf. Ac. 3.22; 7.37; Jn.
1.45; 5.45-46, etc.). In the Gospel
story of the transfiguration, Jesus takes
Peter, James and John up a mountain and then begins to radiate the glory of
God; as the three disciples cower in terror, a voice from heaven says, “This is
my beloved Son; listen to him!” (cf.
Mk. 9.7). The message is clear – Jesus is the one to whom God’s people
must listen. He is “the prophet like
Moses” – in fact, Jesus is much greater
than Moses. Moses, as the book of
Deuteronomy claims, spoke with God “face to face” (cf. Dt. 34.10); Jesus, says
St. Paul, is the very face of God
(cf. Col. 1.15).
Jesus in charge. Jesus is a very strange character. He doesn’t fit into any of our
categories. Every time we think we’ve
got him figured out, he manages to
surprise us. In the Gospels, Jesus
re-interprets even those categories that his
followers put him in. Yes, I’m the Messiah; No, I’m not the kind of Messiah you were
expecting. Jesus was the kind of person
that children were attracted to; yet he didn’t mince his words when he
denounced hypocrisy and corruption, especially among the leaders of God’s
people. Jesus was – at least on one
occasion – so full of anger that he went into the Temple courts and overturned
tables and chased people outside with a whip; yet he was the kind of person
that inspired such love and devotion that people would wash his feet with their
tears and pour perfume over them. Jesus could repel and attract people in
equal measure. And through it all, one thing remains constant – Jesus is
“in charge”. He is establishing the kingdom of God. The Creator is ruling through – as – Jesus.
No
other stream. Jesus
is in charge. His claim over our
lives is absolute. This might strike us as being, at the least, unreasonable, and perhaps even dangerous. Surely, we
are in charge of our lives. We are fully
capable of making do on our own, aren’t we?
Surely, we are “the masters of our fate and the captains of our soul”. It might be helpful at this point to read an
excerpt from C.S. Lewis’ The Silver Chair
(volume 6 of the “Chronicles of Narnia”). A girl named Jill finds herself in the land of
Narnia, face down in the grass within sight of a stream. Jill realizes that she is not alone. There is a
large lion lying right next to the
water…
“Are you not thirsty?” said the Lion.
“I’m dying
of thirst,” said Jill.
“Then drink,” said the lion.
“May I – could I – would you mind going away while I
do?” said Jill.
The Lion answered this only by a look
and a very low growl. And as Jill gazed
at its motionless bulk, she realized that she might as well have asked the
whole mountain to move aside for her convenience. The delicious rippling sound of the stream was
driving her nearly frantic.
“Will you promise not to – do anything to me, if I do
come?” said Jill.
“I make no promise,” said the lion.
Jill was so thirsty now that, without
noticing it, she had come a step nearer.
“Do you eat
girls?” she said.
“I have swallowed up girls and boys, women and men,
kings and emperors, cities and realms,” said the lion.
It didn’t say this as if it were
boasting, nor as if it were sorry, nor as if it were angry. It just
said it.
“I daren’t come and drink,” said Jill.
“Then you will die of thirst,” said the lion.
“Oh dear!” said Jill, coming another step nearer. “I suppose I must go and look for another
stream then.”
“There is no
other stream,” said the lion. Amen.
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