Mark 9:30-37
Today’s scripture is a critical point in Mark and a critical point for the disciples. Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem has begun. The time of Jesus’ arrest, trial, and crucifixion draws near. Jesus sees this as the time for questions and conversation with his disciples. He knows that they need to know and understand the truth of the events unfolding. Truth can be hard to accept. Truths can make us feel vulnerable; we often want to deny or bargain. I recall Jack Nicolson’s line from “A Few Good Men”: “You can’t handle the truth.”
I feel stuck when I fail to understand what has been said to me. I fear my ignorance will show if I ask for further explanation. I am sure that others have this problem, but I think it may be a male ego thing, like when I fail to understand directions. I even argue with my NAV, pull my car off the road, and reset my directions. I did this yesterday when I was looking for Water’s Farm.
When Sarah rides in my car with me, she becomes my navigator. I rely on her to tell me how to get from point A to point B and when we need to stop for rest. I am grateful for her help and rely on her accuracy. I believe that on our longer drives to places we have not experienced before, she will discern the best way to travel. I have faith in Sarah. I tend to find ways to soften my discomfort when I don’t comprehend something. We don’t want to expose our lack of knowledge, and it’s a vulnerable place. Not knowing makes me anxious.
But what the disciples hear in this week’s Gospel reading is Mark’s second Passion prediction. Jesus tells them that he will be betrayed and killed and then rise again. The disciples don’t respond well to this second warning. Maybe they don’t ask questions because they are afraid it could be true. Perhaps they can hear the word death but completely fail to comprehend the Resurrection. How are we different?
The first time Jesus said it, the disciples brushed it off as something he said in passing. Now he’s repeating it. And look what happened to Peter when he tried to deny the truth! In last week’s reading, Jesus rebuked Peter, saying, “Get behind me, Satan.” The disciples’ fears are fanned.
When you start asking questions, you may get answers that you do not want to hear or are not ready to hear. When you start asking questions, you engage in dialogue—which can be unpredictable. It’s easier to stay silent because listening to a lecture is a much safer and more comfortable place to be. We pretend to investigate truth’s meanings and power. We find comfort in ritual and fail to comprehend the ever-creating God who provides grace. We accept normalcy as more comforting than yielding our will to become servants of God. When you start asking questions, you start moving closer to the truth. Often, the difference between addiction and death relies solely on the power of God to provide a path to travel in the hands of our Higher Power, or however one defines God’s power acting in our lives. We are adept at avoiding truth, especially regarding the challenges of faith.
When it comes to faith, this belief is at stake for the disciples after this second Passion prediction and for us who tend to too quickly “solve” faith rather than seek out its possibilities. Starting conversations takes courage. You need to find out where the conversation will end up. We might not like the results. On the other hand, the conversation may reveal what you stand for—who you are and your understanding of truth.
Then what? What do you do when the truth of your faith is out there for all the world? What might happen when people see what’s at stake for you, what you are willing to stand up for? Things might change. Relationships might change. Once you start asking questions, there’s no going back, so it is easier to stay silent. Then you don’t have to navigate change and would somewhat be comforted by the sameness of what we know. Such silence may bring the destruction of those we love and not keep the simple commandment of Christ to act by love and mercy.
No wonder the disciples are afraid to ask Jesus questions. What might they see if they did? They would see Jesus differently and might not like what they saw. Therein lies the risk, the fear of their betrayal. They would see one another differently, too. Their relationships might now be tested: Who will stay and who will go? On whom can you rely, and who will betray?
And they would be forced to see themselves in a new light, a radical reinterpretation of self. What kind of follower of Jesus am I? Can I be the disciple that he needs me to be, that my friends need me to be? Am I capable of following and living the truth of Jesus’ suffering? Or has my silence already convicted me of my potential for unfaithfulness? The courage to question is a mark of discipleship.
It must have been difficult for the disciples when they realized that even if they were silent, Jesus somehow knew what they were talking about, as it is difficult for us to recognize that our lives are open before God. Jesus proceeds to speak to us. “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” (v. 35).
Jesus shows what he is talking about as he takes a child, puts his arms around the child, and declares that they will be holding all by welcoming the weak and the helpless.
Again, how difficult it was for the disciples as for us. In this passage, he tells them that if they want to live like one who gives his life for others, they will identify with the children and welcome them, for they need love and protection.
Finally, the word of Jesus comes as a liberating word rather than an oppressive demand. Jesus never puffs himself up, knowing that he is the Messiah. Let’s find the faith each of us needs to have in times of uncertainty. Let us learn to walk with God and let go of fear. Fear grows nothing. Faith and kindness are the centers of the New Covenant God offers through Christ, God’s beloved child. May the Holy Spirit guide our understanding and discernment as we look to the Holy future, not the fearfilled past.