Mark 3:7-19
Reaching Out and Regrouping
The gospels are not always easy. Sometimes they are very subtle and make us
search out hidden meanings and struggle to understand the discrepancies they
contain. And sometimes they seem to say straight out what they mean, so we’re
pretty sure there can be no misunderstandings. Like in the very first verse of
Mark’s gospel, where the writer tells us this is the story of Jesus, the Messiah and
the Son of God. And a few verses later he is baptized and God speaks from
heaven, calling him, “Beloved Son,” and the Spirit of God descends upon him; so
that we know he is specially blessed with God’s favor and with God’s message.
But in the very next verse, we read that the Spirit drove him into the wilderness, to
be tempted. An unexpected twist, that causes us to see instantly that the work of
Jesus will not be an easy one; and perhaps causes us to understand that the work of
the gospel will not always be pleasant for us, either; that God’s Spirit is not just a
presence with us to make us feel good, but a power that sometimes forces us into
difficult and painful places, for God’s purposes. It’s not always what we want to
hear, but we should not forget that Jesus knew this- or learned this- about the work
he was called to do, and he never flinched.
So when he healed that man with the bad hand on the Sabbath day, and a
group of religious folk saw it (“hard- hearted,” he calls them), and began to plot
how to kill him, he wasn’t surprised. That’s the sermon text from last week, 3:1-6.
Jesus may have been expecting such antagonism, but it didn’t cause him to run
away. That’s not the meaning of these first words of today’s sermon text, “Jesus
withdrew.” This is a gospel statement that seems easy, but here again we have to
dig a little and contemplate the following verses. And we will see that Jesus didn’t
withdraw to hide from the danger, he withdrew to a place where his work could
expand, where everyone could see that his response to the threat was the widening
of his ministry, and healing for anyone who could get there. Yes, we are told early
on in the gospel who Jesus is, but we have to read closely to the end of the book, to
know what these words mean, Messiah and Son of God: that he is ready and
committed and unafraid.
Let’s think how churches and organizations generally operate in trying
times. What is happening in our religious society right now? Some religious
commentators and groups are closing ranks and becoming more cultish, less
inclusive; demanding conformity; and blaming every problem on those “other
people”; often justifying their doctrines, not by reason or wise interpretation of
scripture, but by literalism and by demeaning those who disagree. But look what
Jesus does: he welcomes the whole world. Look at the names of these places,
many of them Jewish names, people who have come out to him by the shore of the
Sea of Galilee, just as they had gone out earlier to hear John the Baptist on the
banks of the Jordan. But I think we can assume, as well, that Arabs and Greek
speakers have come out, from the great coastal cities to the north and from the
other side of the River to the east. And Jesus welcomed them all, didn’t demand
tests of doctrine; he healed them all. It seems to me this example of our Lord is an
essential component of what the church must be, even when it feels threatened: to
reach out and not to turn inward; to love and to welcome and to preach hope, and
not to close our minds; to be unafraid.
Do we need more proof? It’s in the next paragraph, where Jesus creates this
new community; at its core these twelve men who are commissioned to do exactly
what he is doing, preaching and casting out demons and healing. Only a couple of
chapters later, maybe only a few days after this, Jesus sends them out to perform
these acts, which they do successfully we are told (6:13). Jesus and his community
do not go into hiding. On the Sunday before Pentecost, this is a word for us to
hear, not yet to celebrate the beginning of the church and the exuberant Spirit
moving amongst the first believers- that’s next week- but to rejoice that more and
more people came to the Lord in Galilee and experienced God’s Kingdom and
heard good news and were made whole.
Look at the twelve names on the list. They are familiar to us, most of them.
And if we care to consider it, they represent a wide variety of attitudes and
worldviews, and varying degrees of ambition- like James and John, who want to
rule over the new Kingdom with Jesus; and varying levels of ego- like Peter, so
confident in the strength of his character, but we know what happens to him, at the
end. Here is Matthew, a tax-collector we are told in another scripture, worked for
the government (and the most hated branch of the government); compare him to
Simon, called the Cananaean, the super-patriot who wanted to overthrow the
government and the rule of law, and install a theocracy that served only likeminded people; and Thomas, sometimes we call him the Doubter, maybe he was a
scientist or a cynic, believed only what he could see and verify, as the fourth
gospel tells us; and yet his name is listed beside the most pietistic disciple of allthe other James, the church leader the who was given the nickname “Camel
Knees,” so calloused and hard were they from long hours kneeling in prayer.
Well, I’ve had to borrow from other gospels and extra-biblical legends about
the twelve main followers of Jesus. But there is one more thing from our passage
that is mightily important: these twelve, Jesus chose them to be with him. That is
the thing that reaches far beyond politics and viewpoints; it’s about connecting
with Jesus, this Jesus, this Messiah and Son of God: who didn’t run away from the
peril, who didn’t wall himself in to avoid suffering or the judgment of the selfrighteous, didn’t close himself off from the different sorts of people, but rather,
who welcomed and healed all these strangers, just as he called and healed the
disciples; and just as he has done with us. This is what the gospel story tells us
about Jesus our Lord, that with every word and action, he bears witness to the God
who loves us and loves every person.
I don’t know how many times preparing for the sermon I thought of this phrase,
that he was unafraid. “Jesus withdrew,” the scripture says, but all along, he was
out in the open, where the great multitude found him, and where anyone could
have found him. And then later, he called the disciples together on the
mountaintop and selected these twelve to be the leaders. How could he not be
afraid, with these as his chosen ones! Don’t think the gospel is easy to figure out-
they may appear at first to be good choices, but keep reading to the end of the
book; we know they all grew fearful, and deserted him when the pressure was on.
Or, just read the last few words of our passage, and the final name on the list:
Judas, who betrayed him.
Isn’t this the measure of Jesus’ courage and faith, that even this man was
welcomed into the group? That Jesus reached out to everyone, that they might
experience God’s love, even though at some point- just like us- they perhaps just
didn’t get it, or may have grown afraid, or might have given up or run off, or
become traitors. I don’t say this to justify such people, but to suggest that
sometimes we are the traitors and the deserters, the arrogant and the unknowing
and the weak and the fearful and the sinful; to suggest that sometimes repentance is
necessary. But healing and forgiveness are available for us all. Isn’t that good
news, and good news for all the world?
Let us commit ourselves to being always humble and grateful for what has been
given to us; and let us be strong- and brave- to share it with one another. Let that
be the work of this church, a people unafraid to open hearts and minds and arms:
to love and to welcome every child of God.