So
Jesus asked his disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” and they gave various
answers… And then he asked them, “Who do YOU say that I am?” And Peter answered, “You are the Messiah.” You are the Christ.
We
love that, don’t we! It’s so clear, it’s
so positive, it’s so confident … and for us modern Disciples, it’s the basis of
our Confession of Faith which all members of the Disciples of Christ church
affirm upon joining.
This
is good stuff. It’s a core story of our
faith. It’s a story we share and repeat
often….
But
it’s only half the story.
Then
Jesus began to teach them that he must undergo great suffering, be rejected,
and be killed.
This,
we don’t like quite as much.
Peter
didn’t like it, either. Why bring that
up, Jesus? It’s such a downer. You’re never going to get any followers if
you keep talking like that. That’s no
way to grow a movement. It’s no way to
grow a church.
Peter,
like just about everyone, didn’t like to talk or think about death. He protested all this talk about death, and
was told that he was setting his mind not on divine things, but on human
things.
But
death seemed to be on Jesus’ mind: his
own death. He talks about his own death
here, in chapter eight. He talks about
his own death again in chapter nine. And
he talks about his own death a third time, in chapter ten.
Jesus
was always aware that death was waiting for him.
When
I was a student at Chapman University, I took a course titled, “Sociology of
Death.” Professor Barney McGrane stood
silently as we filed in on the first day of class, and then when the time came
for the class to begin, he picked up a newspaper and began reading the
obituaries, substituting names of students in the class for the actual names
listed in the obituaries.
“Danny
Bradfield died in a traffic accident on September 3. Funeral Services will be held next Tuesday at
1:00…”
Once
he was done with that, he looked at us and asked, “Why would anyone want to
take a class called ‘Sociology of Death?’”
At
that point, I was beginning to wonder the same thing myself.
During
the semester he had us read a book called Journey
to Ixtlan by Carlos Castaneda. I
still have that book on the shelf in my office. It’s about a man who goes out
to visit an old Yaqui Indian in Sonora, Mexico named don Juan, a man who – the
narrator believes – can impart great wisdom.
One
of the things don Juan talks about is death:
“Death
is our eternal companion,” don Juan said with a most serious air. “It is always to our left, at an arm’s
length. It has always been watching
you. It always will until the day it
taps you.
“The
thing to do…” [he said] “is to turn to your left and ask advice from your
death. An immense amount of pettiness is
dropped if your death makes a gesture to you, or if you catch a glimpse of it,
or if you just have the feeling that your companion is there watching you.
“Death
is the only wise advisor that we have.
Whenever you feel, as you always do, that everything is going wrong and
you’re about to be annihilated, turn to your death and ask if that is so. Your death will tell you that you’re wrong;
that nothing really matters outside its touch.
Your death will tell you, ‘I haven’t touched you yet…’ You need to ask
death’s advice and drop the cursed pettiness that belongs to men that live
their lives as if death will never tap them.”
I
don’t know many people who live as don Juan lived, recognizing death as their
eternal companion and wise advisor.
However, Jesus, I think, did live this way.
The
gospel of Mark is only sixteen chapters long.
It takes up just 23 pages in my great-grandmother’s Bible that sits on
my shelf. That’s not really a whole lot
of space to tell the story of our Savior.
And
yet, six of those chapters focus on Jesus’ death and the events leading up to
it; and in the other ten chapters, Jesus talks about his death three separate times.
Yes,
I think Jesus was aware of death’s presence.
He knew that death was his eternal companion. He spoke about it often, even though the
disciples reacted with fear when he did.
They even rebuked him, as if it were a demon speaking and not
Jesus.
The
disciples were very afraid of death.
But
not Jesus. Every time he glanced over
his left shoulder, he saw death standing there, just an arm’s length away. And because of this… because he saw death
standing there next to him…because he was aware of death’s presence… he was
able to live fully.
He
was able to live with his priorities in order, doing everything that God called
him to do, everything that would give his life eternal meaning, eternal
purpose, everything that would enable him to live and die with no regrets. He was able to put his priorities in order,
and not waste time with things and activities that, ultimately, are
unimportant.
In
a new book called Living the Questions:
The Wisdom of Progressive Christianity, authors David Felton and Jeff
Proctor-Murphy mention how patients in hospice care learn to live with death as
their companion. They write that hospice
patients facing death often discover new life.
Hospice patients find that their lives are transformed, their priorities
are reordered, and “many of the circumstances and choices that had crippled
them before their diagnosis evaporated into new life.”
With
an awareness of death as their companion, they discovered what was really important, and realized that so
much of what they had thought was
important before was actually quite petty and meaningless … Death helped them
let go of all those petty and meaningless things.
Easter
is about new life coming out of death. DeWane
Zimmerman, quoted in Living the Questions,
says: “The message of Easter is not
simply ‘Don’t be afraid to die,’ but ‘Don’t be afraid to live – to live for
those things worth dying for.”
Sister
Helen Prejean has devoted her life to working with death row inmates. Here’s what she says: “[In the words of]
St. Paul, ‘dying and behold we live.’
And it’s not just in the act of our death, it’s in the way we pour out our
life. You know, the giving, the expenditure of our life for the community, in love, is a form of dying. And when we can be driven by love, when we
can be motivated by love to give our lives on behalf of others and not count
the cost, that, too, is a form of … resurrected life; that we are alive even as
we give our life and we die.”
How
often do you think about death?
How
often do you think about your death?
“Death
is our eternal companion,” don Juan said with a most serious air. “It is always to our left, at an arm’s
length. It has always been watching
you. It always will until the day it
taps you.”
“Then
Jesus said that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, be rejected…, and
be killed…. If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and
take up their cross… For those who
want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life … will save
it.”
Turn
and look at your death. Your death is
there, an arm’s length away, always, no matter how much you may try to ignore it.
What
is your death saying to you? What is it
saying about how you are living your life?
If death were to tap you today, would you be satisfied with what you’ve
done with your life?
What
is death saying about how you are maintaining your relationships? Have you placed more value in things that don’t matter than you have
in relationships with people who do
matter?
What
is death saying about how you are using all the blessings and resources which
have been entrusted to you? Would you be
able to say that your life was a life that was rich toward God?
Death
comes in many forms, and all of them make us afraid. We don’t like to talk about any of them. And yet, in whatever form it takes, death is
our companion.
Death
may take the form of losing one’s home.
It may take the form of losing one’s wealth or status in society. It may take the form of losing the luxuries
and comforts that we’ve come to expect.
Downsizing
is a form of death. We lose our old
life, the life we had known, when we go from a big house to a small house, or
when we go from a house to an apartment, or when we lose our car and are forced
to rely on others or on public transportation to get around.
Losing
one’s job is a form of death. A good
part of our identity is wrapped up in “what we do.” When we lose the job that has defined us,
that is a form of death.
Losing
our church is a form of death. We don’t
talk about the death of the church. We
don’t like to think about the death of the church.
If
you’ve been around here for very long, you’ve heard it mentioned that the
Disciples of Christ have started some 700 new congregations since 2001, and
that we are making excellent progress toward our goal of establishing a
thousand new congregations by 2020.
I
love celebrating this! What I don’t like
talking about, though, is that in the same period that we’ve started 700 new
congregations, some 800 congregations have closed their doors. So even as new congregations are being born,
other congregations are dying.
It’s
not just our denomination. Even the
congregation known as the Crystal Cathedral is now, for all intents and
purposes, dead.
Well,
church: maybe it’s time we looked at our death. Go ahead.
Church, look at your death.
Every
time we talk about finances in the church, we know that death is right there
next to us. We can only spend more than
we receive for so long. When the money
is gone, this church – at least as we know it – will die.
That
will happen, someday. Maybe that day will be many generations in
the future. Or maybe it will happen much
sooner. But one day, it will happen.
So
take a look, church. Look at death. Don’t look away.
Maybe
you, like Peter, feel uncomfortable looking at death. Maybe it frightens you. Maybe you are ready to rebuke the preacher
for even mentioning it…
Maybe
you are setting your mind not on divine things … but on human things…
Church,
look at your death. Look at the image of
death on your bulletin cover. See death
as a friend. A companion. A wise advisor who walks with you, helping
you learn how to live. What is death
saying to you? What advice does death
offer to you?
If
death were to tap you on the shoulder today, would you be satisfied with the
life you’ve lived? Could you say that
you have sought justice, loved with kindness, and walked humbly with God? Could you say that you succeeded in being a
movement for wholeness in our community and our world?
Church,
is there a way that death can help you discover new life? With death as your companion, can you
rediscover what is really important,
and let go of all that is petty and meaningless?
Yes,
death is our constant companion. Death
is all around us.
However…
We
are people who believe in the resurrection.
We are committed to living out the resurrection in our lives.
And
so, we are not defeated by death. With
death as our companion, we discover new life.
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