Best Sermon Ever?

My sermon for this past Sunday was one that so far has gotten the most praise, and one parishioner said it might be my best one yet.  So, let me post it here, so that I remember.

February 25, 2024

By Kristin Berkey-Abbott

 

 

Mark 8:  31-38

 

 

When I read today’s Gospel, I’m shocked at the way that both Peter and Jesus respond.  Listen again:  “And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him.”  That verb:  rebuke.  Who does Peter think he is, rebuking Jesus?  Of course, this isn’t the first time that Peter has tried to be the boss.  But Jesus’s response shocks me too.

 

Jesus says, “"Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things."  Wow!  Just wow!  Peter would be an infuriating disciple at times, to be sure.  But to call him Satan?  Is Jesus saying that Peter is evil?  And if so, on the level of Satan?  Really?

 

It’s even stranger if you look at the whole chapter. In Mark 8: 29 (two verses before today’s reading), Peter declares that Jesus is the Messiah.  In fact, in the Gospel of Mark, Peter is the first to declare that Jesus is the Messiah, well, the first if we’re not counting a demon or two along the way.  People have declared Jesus a healer, someone amazing whom they haven’t seen before--“Who is this man who ______ “ and we can fill in this blank any number of ways:  gets rid of demons, heals on the Sabbath, calms the sea and wind.  But no one puts the pieces together until Peter; Peter is the first to see the larger cosmic picture.

 

 

 

Peter may have recognized Jesus as the Messiah, but then he’s got a problem.  Here is Jesus who is not behaving the way the Messiah is supposed to behave.  Peter isn’t stupid.  He’s been well-trained, as all male Jews would have been, in the Law and the Prophets.  He’s heard the passage from Genesis that we heard today—he knows that God has made a covenant.  He’s part of a people who have been on the lookout for a savior for centuries. 

 

But Jesus isn’t behaving like the savior Peter expects.  Peter would have heard the Psalm that we heard today, that language of deliverance that is part of so many Psalms and so much of the ancient prophets.  Peter is expecting a Messiah, yes, and expecting deliverance, but he’s been hoping for something different than what Jesus offers.  I can’t know for sure, but I imagine that Peter has imagined what life will be like when the Romans leave.  That’s what most people long for when they live under an oppressive regime.  I imagine Peter and most of the people of Jesus’ time wanted a Messiah who was a revolutionary to restore the glory days of times past—and kick those Romans back to where they came from.

 

Let’s do a thought experiment to understand both Peter and what is unfolding, the events that lead us to Holy Week.  Let’s try to understand why Peter is so baffled and so angry in places.  If Jesus appeared today, what would he need to say to make us take him aside and rebuke him?  Or put another way:  what comes to your mind when I say say “The Salvation of the World.”

 

I imagine that your answer is very different than the answers that we’ve been studying in my seminary Systematic Theology class.  So, let’s personalize this a bit.  When I say the word “Salvation” or “Savior”—what comes to mind?

 

You might think about a cross.  You might think about Heaven, in terms of the place where we hope to go when we die.  You might think about some end time, when all of creation is finally the way God intended it to be.  You might think of various movies that have been made or maybe about Bible studies that have opened your eyes.

 

Now imagine that Jesus shows up and suddenly people around you start behaving differently.  The alcoholics stop drinking, and wonder of wonders, they don’t substitute one addiction for another—they claim the lives they’ve been denied.  All sorts of cancers—healed with just a word or two from Jesus.  People with terrible arthritis can walk with no pain.  Overweight people shed their excess pounds with no drugs, no surgery, no diets, and the joy that they’re feeling makes others want whatever they’ve experienced.

 

So far, so good, right?  But maybe you’re expecting more—you’ve seen the prelude, and you’re ready for Jesus to deliver.  Peter was expecting Jesus to deliver a world free of Romans and full of self-rule.  In our thought experiment, what would Jesus proclaim that would horrify us in the same way that Peter is shocked and revolted?  What would Jesus have to say to make us rebuke him?

Imagine that Jesus tells everyone that there is no Heaven when we die.  There’s no Hell either, but no Heaven.  All that stuff you learned about the cross and how Jesus suffered so that we get eternal life, which means a Heavenly reunion with all our loved ones—imagine that Jesus tells you that your spiritual elders lied to you.  You’ve been sold a bill of goods—Jesus says it over and over again, and not just to you and other members of the inner circle, but to everybody.

 

Imagine how upset you would be.  You might ask yourself what the point of it all has been.  It’s very fine for people to be cured of their physical ailments, but Heaven, Heaven is the ultimate goal, isn’t it?  ISN’T IT???? 

 

Continuing this thought experiment—we’ve imagined Jesus with us, and we know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that we’re seeing the Messiah.  And yet, he’s delivering a message that contradicts much of what you’ve always known about what salvation means.  What do you do?

 

Maybe, like Peter, you pull Jesus aside to speak privately.  Maybe you just want some answers to your questions.  Or maybe you have doubts, but you don’t want to admit you have doubts, and you hope that Jesus can explain.  Or maybe you want Jesus to fine tune the message and explain what happens after death.  Maybe you could be OK with an alternate picture, if only Jesus would explain.

 

Jesus is adamant that Peter is wrong, that so many preconceptions of what salvation looks like and what a savior should look like are wrong.  We may feel superior to Peter, but that’s because we know how Peter’s part of the story ends.  We know about salvation, don’t we?  Of course, Peter thought he did too—until Jesus came and changed everything he thought he knew.

 

Peter wants his homeland back.  We want Heaven.  Imagine Jesus telling us that Heaven is already here.  Imagine Jesus pointing to our fish fry that we had on Friday night and saying, “It’s here.  The Kingdom of Heaven is at hand.  Your loved ones, living and dead, are right here when you serve fried fish and the coleslaw made from Fiona’s mother’s recipe and every single one of us brought out favorite dessert, enough to share.  What more do you need?”

 

Like Peter, we might want to pull Jesus aside and say, “That vision of salvation is not going to win you many disciples.”  And Jesus might point to a weary world and paint us a vision of more service, not less:  a world where children are cared for perhaps by adults who are missing their grandchildren who live in other towns, a world where people gather for tea and cookies and help with homework or English language classes, a world where people teach each other to play musical instruments instead of only going to concerts,   . . . on and on I could go.

 

One Bible scholar says that this passage tells us that the true cost of discipleship is relinquishing our preconceptions of what a Messiah should say and do.  Again and again, Jesus tells us that salvation looks like love, and that love looks like service, and that service to each other looks like Heaven to our souls.  Peter didn’t understand that message at first.  Do we?

 

If so, we’ll find that our crosses are easier to bear, that in sacrificing our self-interests as we serve, we will build a richer life than we ever imagined.

 

I hope there is a Heaven when we die, that we’re all sitting at the Welcome Table, eating desserts from all the family recipes, seeing all our loved ones again.  And if we’ve lived our lives the way Jesus tells us we should, Heaven will just be icing on the cake, because we’ll have already tasted it here on earth.