Why the Cross? (Mark 9:30-32)

 The disciples didn’t understand what Jesus was talking about, when he said that he was going to be betrayed, and killed, and that, three days after being killed, he would rise again.

And it is something, I think, that many of us think about, and wonder about. Why was Jesus crucified? Why did the son of God—God incarnate—die on a cross?

Many of us were taught that the reason Jesus had to die on the cross was because of our sin, that Jesus took the punishment we deserve. We were taught that our God demands that the penalty for our sin—death—be paid. Someone has to die for our sin—someone must pay the price—and, lucky for us, Jesus stepped in and took that punishment in our place. 

But this idea, that Jesus died in our place, so that we don’t have to, in order to appease God’s anger and God’s demand for justice, doesn’t really appear in scripture.

And this idea wasn’t a part of Christian teaching for the first one thousand years of Christianity.

And, to me, this idea does not seem compatible with the idea that our God is a loving God, a God capable of forgiving sins, a God who is merciful and gracious and slow to anger.

So where did this idea come from? This idea that Jesus had to die, to take our place on the cross, to appease God’s anger, so that God could forgive us? Where did that idea come from?

Most scholars believe the idea came from Anselm.

Anselm of Canterbury was a Benedictine monk and eventual archbishop, and he formulated the idea that sin demands punishment, and that therefore someone must die for our sin, and that Jesus took our place by dying on the cross.

And Anselm’s idea took hold in the imagination of other church leaders. The idea spread.

I’m not sure why, but I suspect it’s because it gave those church leaders a useful way to control the lives of the believers under their watch and care.

Anselm’s idea, that Christ died because someone had to die to appease God’s wrath, doesn’t make sense. If God is so good and loving, and if God is god, then why couldn’t God figure out a way to show love and mercy and forgiveness without demanding that someone die? What kind of a cruel God would make such a demand? Who would want to worship a god like that?

To know Jesus is to know God. Jesus’s behavior is a reflection of God’s behavior. 

I can’t imagine Jesus withholding love and forgiveness unless someone “pays the price” by dying. Jesus never demanded death as payment that must be received in order for forgiveness to be extended.

It all makes me realize that Anselm’s ideas about why the crucifixion happened are wrong.

It’s time we find a new way to understand why the crucifixion had to happen. Or, to say it in a better way: it’s time we rediscover how early Christians understood the crucifixion, before Anselm introduced his ideas about Jesus “paying the price” and “taking our place.”

Sometimes, when I think of the crucifixion, and Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross, I find it helpful to think of other examples of people in history who risked their lives or who were willing to die for something they believed in.

I think of people like Martin Luther King, Jr., who knew that people wanted to kill him, and that continuing with his work meant risking his life. Yet that did not stop him from proclaiming his message.

And I think of all the people who risked their lives in the Civil Rights Movement, knowing that they, too, might be killed because they weren’t willing to back down from what they believed.

I think of those who marched in 1965, setting out from Selma, Alabama; 600 of them, intent on making their way to Montgomery; but when they crossed the Edmund Pettus Bridge, they were assaulted by white state troopers who knocked them to the ground and beat them with nightsticks and fired tear gas, while mounted troopers charged the marchers. 17 of the marchers were hospitalized with severe injuries, including future Congressman John Lewis.

One could say that these marchers were attacked and beaten because of the sins of our nation, because of the sin of racism in particular. One could say that they took the punishment on our behalf, for our sake. That kind of language works here.

But I don’t think you can go so far as to say that they were beaten “in our place,” or that people like Martin Luther King, Jr., died “in our place,” as a substitute for us.

Two weeks after they were attacked, the marchers returned. There were 3,200 of them this time, and as they marched, others joined, so that by the time they reached Montgomery, there were 25,000 of them. All willing to risk their lives, or risk being attacked, for what they believed in.

Do you see what those marchers did? They marched, to make visible to the nation the truth, that all people deserve love and dignity. They risked their lives in order for truth and love to prevail.

And that is a powerful thing. Their willingness to risk their lives for the sake of truth and love helped convince Congress to pass the Voting Rights Act later that year. Their willingness to risk their lives for the sake of truth and love helped change the hearts and minds of a nation. Their willingness to risk their lives for the sake of truth and love brought life to many.

There is a power in letting the world see you stand firm in your beliefs, stand firm in what you believe is right, not backing down, not giving in; and doing so without hate in your heart and without resorting to violence. 

There is a power in maintaining kindness and love even towards those who have it in for you… even towards those who want to kill you. Standing tall, without running away, without reacting in violence, accepting whatever suffering they might inflict on you. There’s a power in that. 

And when the nation saw their determination, their willingness to risk their lives for what was right, and their refusal to react violently to those who used violence on them… it touched the nation’s soul. People’s hearts began to change.

There’s power in that.

And that helps me better understand Jesus’ death.

Jesus didn’t have to die to take our place, to appease God’s anger and wrath, because God would never demand death in order to forgive sins.

But Jesus was committed to following the call, to standing for truth and love, and to challenging the institutions that stood in the way of truth and love. He was committed to that call, and was willing to follow that commitment to the end. 

He knew that the powers of the world would kill him because they stood in the way of truth and love, and because they dealt in the ways of lies and hate, and because they were willing to use violence to maintain their way.

What the institutions of the world didn’t realize is that there is a power in standing for God’s way of truth and love, and doing so nonviolently, that not even the greatest armies in the world could destroy. 

This, the world saw on the third day, when Jesus rose from the dead. Because not even death could conquer the power of love.

All this is why I and many other Christian pastors don’t like to talk about Jesus dying “in our place,” paying the price, taking the punishment we deserve. 

Also: if Jesus’ death on the cross was to appease God’s wrath, then the work was finished at the moment he breathed his last breath. If that’s why the crucifixion took place, then there is nothing else to do from that moment on.

Yet scripture calls on us to share in Christ’s crucifixion, to pick up our own cross, to be crucified with Christ, and continue Christ’s work.

Scripture’s call to be crucified with Christ wouldn’t make any sense if Jesus’ death was only to appease God’s anger. If Jesus died and God’s anger is appeased because of it, then why should we seek to be crucified with Christ? The work is already done.

But we are called to be crucified with Christ, to carry our cross, because we are called to let the same love that flowed through Jesus flow through us. We are to be vessels of God’s love, just as Jesus was.

That’s exactly what those marchers in Selma did. They were willing to put their lives on the line for the sake of love, for the sake of justice, for the sake of dignity. 

Scripture says that because we are united with Christ in his crucifixion, that we will also receive the new life of resurrection.

That’s the power of God’s love, made known through the crucifixion.

It’s important to be clear about why the crucifixion happened, because it says a lot about the nature of God. If we believe that God is incapable of forgiving sins without the sacrifice of a human life, it makes God out to be a ruthless, cruel, violent God. And when people believe in a ruthless, cruel, and violent God, they are more likely to condone ruthless, cruel, and violent behavior among people. 

Belief in a cruel God leads to cruel behavior among people, but belief in a God of love and kindness leads to kind and loving behavior among people.

We see that, don’t we? Christians who believe it is right for churches and for governments to behave in cruel, violent, and authoritarian ways. It stems from their belief that God is cruel and violent.

We see people, right now—Christians, many of them—acting in ways that are unloving and unkind toward their neighbors. And they remake God in that image, the image of violence, the image of cruelty, because they want justification for their own behavior. They want a God who smites the wicked, which they define as anyone who believes differently than they do.

And if they portray God as a vengeful, wrathful God, it justifies their own vengeful, wrathful behavior.

But Jesus was never vengeful or wrathful. Jesus forgave people, without requiring death as payment. Surely God can do the same!

This is why Christians who want a vengeful, wrathful God talk so much about Jesus’ second coming, when Jesus will judge and destroy the wicked. Disciples preacher Fred Craddock once said that the reason so many Christians are so obsessed with the second coming is that, deep down, they are really disappointed with the first coming.

Jesus came, and he proclaimed peace, and forgiveness. He taught people about the God of peace and forgiveness. But many are unhappy with that, so they focus on a new, second coming of Jesus, which they believe will include violence and punishment and death.

But that is not God’s nature.

The cross is not about God’s wrath. The cross is not about a penalty that had to be paid in order for God to show forgiveness. 

The cross is about a love that is strong enough to prevail even in the face of death.

Jesus loved the world so much, that he was willing to do whatever it took to show the world just how great his love is, and just how great God’s love is. 

Jesus allowed persecution and crucifixion to come to him, because he refused to back down on his mission of love. 

And when Jesus died, God was devastated, because it is never God’s will that any person should suffer. Yet God was also pleased, because Jesus didn’t let anything stop him from expressing love. Not even death.

And God raised Jesus from death as a way of showing God’s approval. The resurrection was God’s “yes” to Jesus’ commitment to the way of love.

So anytime we commit ourselves firmly to the way of love, God will restore us to life. If the way of love leads us to sacrifice, and even if it leads us to death, there is still resurrection.

Because all who have been crucified with Christ will find new life in Christ. Because love is stronger than death. And because love will always prevail.

Uncontainable God (Mark 9:2-9)

 You may have gone on a vacation somewhere, or gone to visit a famous museum or amusement park, or seen a Broadway play…and you enjoyed it so much—it was such a great experience—that you just had to buy a souvenir, and you just had to take a bunch of pictures, because you wanted to somehow bottle up that experience and bring it home with you, and maybe share it with those who didn’t get to go.

And so you come home with your Hamilton t-shirt, or your Mickey Mouse, or your autographed baseball from Wrigley Field (or, Busch stadium–whatever); and you post your pictures on facebook or instagram.

But you know… nothing makes you quite as happy as being there. 

And it’s not even just the fact that you were there; it’s who you were there with. And it’s the taste of the food you ate, and the smells you smelled, and the emotions you felt.

It’s the whole experience.

How do you bottle that up and bring that home?

You can’t, really.

Peter, James, and John experienced something truly amazing up there on the mountain. They experienced Jesus, transfigured.

Our scripture reading is the Bible’s attempt to share that experience with all of us, who weren’t there. The story in scripture is like a little 2-minute video shot on a cellphone of an event that must have been so much more impressive in person.

When Jesus was transfigured, his clothes became dazzling white, making visible the divine presence within him. And in that glow that surrounded him, Elijah and Moses could be seen, and they were talking with Jesus. And a cloud appeared, and a voice emanated out of the cloud, and said: “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him.”

And Peter, James, and John, they had sensed this divine presence within Jesus before, and they believed it was there…but they hadn’t fully experienced that divine presence; it hadn’t yet been revealed to them in all its glory, until the transfiguration.

The transfiguration was an unmasking; a revealing. And these three disciples got to see and experience what they had only sensed previously.

The Spirit of God is all around us, like the wind; the spirit dwells within us, like our breath.

But to actually see it in a way that mortal human eyes are normally unable to see; to actually experience it fully… now that’s an experience you want to take home with you! You want to bottle it up, and take it home with you, and share it with those who weren’t able to be there with you.

So: Peter said to Jesus, “Rabbi, teacher, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.”

Peter didn’t really seem to know why he said that. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what to think. He was overcome and terrified and overjoyed. The other two disciples, James and John, were rendered speechless, but not Peter. Never Peter. Peter is never at a loss for words. 

But sometimes, he has no idea what he’s saying, or why he’s saying it.

But here’s a guess: Peter wanted to erect three dwellings, three booths, three mini-tabernacles, as a way to contain the glory, to bottle it up. Kind of like the ark of the covenant, these three dwellings would be where God’s glory, in the form of Jesus, Moses, and Elijah, could dwell.

And maybe Peter, James, and John could carry these dwellings down the mountain, or the people could come up to them, and peek inside; or, if that was too much, they could just stand outside the dwellings, and know that, within them, the glory of God dwells.

That’s my guess; I don’t really know what Peter was thinking. But I think he thought he could somehow bottle up this whole experience, and maybe use it for his show-and-tell presentation to the rest of the disciples, the ones who weren’t there. 

But then, suddenly, the cloud went away, and when Peter looked, Moses and Elijah were gone, and Jesus’ radiance had dimmed back to normal.

Apparently what the disciples experienced there on the mountain with Jesus was not something that could be bottled up and carried back home.

And I wonder if, in that moment, Peter was thinking that things would be a lot easier if God could be contained, if God could be put in a container and carried around.

A God like that would be so much easier to understand. When you had the time, you could take that God out, examine that God, then put God back. 

A God like that would also be easier to control. We want to control what people think about God. We want to shape God in our own image, the image of what we think God should be like. We want God to be small enough to fit in a container.

If God were able to be contained in some sort of container, it would be easy (if one wanted to) to share only those parts of that God that you felt like sharing. If there were things about that God you liked, you could open up the container to reveal them; but if there were things about that God you didn’t like, maybe you could keep those things hidden in your container.

People do that, or at least try to. I think all of us do it, to some extent. We latch on to those aspects of God we like, those aspects of God we feel comfortable with; and we hide away those aspects of God we don’t like, or which make us uncomfortable.

Or, maybe, we just leave those uncomfortable parts of God up there on the mountain. Why even carry them around with us? 

If God says “put away your sword,” but we rely on weapons of violence to make us feel secure, well, we’ll just leave that part of God up there on the mountain, and not carry it around with us. 

And if God says, “do justice for the poor,” but we rely on our wealth to make us feel secure, well, we’ll just leave that part of God hidden in the container, and not show it to anyone. 

And if God says, “love your enemy,” but we just can’t let go of our hatred toward that one person who is against everything we believe in, well, we’ll just keep the container closed up, and not show anyone, and tell them they don’t need to see God for themselves, that they should just trust us when we tell them what God is like.

But God cannot be contained. God cannot be carried around in your backpack, and taken out and shown as you feel fit. God is so much bigger than that.

And this bigger God was revealed through Jesus to Peter, James, and John, at the transfiguration. 

It’s interesting that, just before the transfiguration, Jesus asked his disciples who they thought he was. It was Peter who answered, “You are the Messiah.” 

And Jesus commended Peter for his answer. 

But then, immediately after that, Jesus talked about his death and resurrection, and Peter rebuked Jesus for saying that, because apparently that did not fit with Peter’s idea of what a Messiah was supposed to be. 

Peter had this idea of what a messiah was supposed to be; he had that idea in a box. It was an understandable, containtainable idea. 

But the idea that the messiah could die and rise again was outside that box that Peter had constructed. Peter’s understanding of what the messiah would be did not allow for death and resurrection. 

And when Peter rebuked Jesus for saying that the messiah would die and then rise again, Jesus in turn rebuked Peter, saying, “Get behind me, Satan!” 

It was as if Jesus was saying to Peter, “Your idea of what the messiah is is too small. Your idea is too limiting. How dare you limit what God can do? Come on, Peter; expand your understanding. Don’t let your mind limit who God is or what God can do.”

Last Sunday evening, our middle school and high school youth started brainstorming ideas for Youth Sunday, which will take place next month. One of the ideas suggested was trying to understand a God who is known through Jesus, but also through Buddhism and Islam and other religions; and honoring the questions that naturally arise when one ponders just how it is that God can be so big…

And it seemed like such a mature topic. It was, essentially, a suggestion to ponder the God who exists beyond the boxes and containers we have created for God.

Micah 6:8 says “what does the Lord require of you, but to do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with God.” I often pondered what it means to “walk humbly with God,” but I’ve come to realize it means, among other things, not putting God in a container. 

It means understanding that God is so much bigger, so much more, than my understanding of who God is. It means knowing that there is always so much more to learn about God. It means honoring the questions we have about God, and knowing that, no matter how many answers we may find, that there will always be more questions.

So no wonder we all have slightly different ideas about God—or, in some cases, big differences in our ideas about God.

And even though I went to seminary and have spent 25 years as an ordained minister, studying scripture, I would never claim to have all the right answers about God. I am always learning. I am always listening. I am always asking questions.

And I am learning from you. Already, in small groups, in conversations, and in emails I’ve received from some of you, I am learning. I am growing. I am opening my box, my container, to ideas that I haven’t considered, or ideas that I have overlooked.

And if I’m always learning, always trying to understand more of this God who is so much bigger than I can imagine, it means that the me of five years from now will have a greater understanding than the me of today, which means that the me of five years from now will look back on the me of today and wince at some the things I am wrong about, just like the me of today winces when I look back at the me of five or ten years ago, and I see the lack of understanding I had then.

So, as we all learn and grow together, it’s important to keep our minds open. We value diversity at First Christian Church, and that includes valuing diversity in how we think about God. Your neighbor in the pew may have a different idea than you about some things. Can you at least listen to their idea, and try to understand where they are coming from? Maybe you’ll come to see that they are right; or, maybe you won’t quite agree with them, but you will gain a new insight into what you do believe. 

Sometimes, I’ve had to do this for issues of justice and privilege. When I read or hear someone talking about injustice committed against people because of their race, or about the privilege that white people have in our society, they sometimes come across to me as angry and accusatory, and my initial reaction is to put my defenses up.

But I have learned the importance of truly listening—not just to their words, but to their emotions, and the experiences they’ve had which contribute to those emotions; the pain they have suffered because of how they’ve been treated.

And once I get past my initial defensiveness, I realize there is a lot to learn— I thought I knew everything, but I actually knew very little.

It’s not always easy. It’s often humbling. But to admit that you may not be in full possession of the truth—that there are others whose experiences may help you achieve a greater understanding of the issues we face—is key to growing in wisdom and growing in faith.

At the transfiguration, Jesus was fully revealed. The full truth of who he was and who he is was put on full display. 

Peter, James, and John were there. They experienced it all. But they didn’t quite know what to make of it at the time, and it was just one step in their growth and learning as disciples.

As we prepare for this season of Lent, which starts on Wednesday: may we approach faith with the same awe, the same humility, that the disciples did. 

May we learn to open ourselves to new understandings and new wisdom. 

May we recognize that none of us is in possession of the full truth…but together, as we listen to one another, share with one another, dialogue with one another, pray with one another, read scripture with one another, and be church with one another, we will continually draw closer to God, the one is abundantly far more than we can imagine.

To Walk Humbly (Mark 9:30-37)

 

1. Nothing...

Welcome to worship! My name is Danny Bradfield, my pronouns are he/him/his, and I’m pastor of Bixby Knolls Christian Church. I am so grateful for your presence here today. I remind you that if you want to know more about what’s going on here at Bixby Knolls Christian Church, let us know your email address so we can add you to our email list. We send out emails - usually just once a week - with info about worship and other activities taking place here and in our region.

It’s been a busy week for me… I’ve had a few substitute teaching jobs, and I’ve learned to say no to others, because the schools are in desperate need of subs right now, and I could easily say yes to too many. As it turned out, the last period of students I had on Friday afternoon were especially challenging. Like everyone else, I suppose, they were ready for the weekend...

Remember when you were a kid… (for some of us that’s longer ago than for others)... and your teacher or your parent came in and said, “What are you doing?” … and you replied: “nothing...”

Well, it wasn’t nothing, was it?

Obviously, you were doing something… Probably something you shouldn’t have been doing...

Or maybe you were arguing or fighting with a sibling or a friend… and your parent says: “What are you fighting about?”

Nothing…

Well, obviously, you were doing something, fighting about something, and it was something you shouldn’t have been doing or shouldn’t have been fighting about… and you knew that you shouldn’t have been doing that, you knew it was wrong, or childish, or immature… your parent didn’t even have to tell you. 

You already knew.

And as a parent or teacher, many of us have been on the other side of that interaction. We see a child doing something they know they shouldn’t be doing. We say, “What are you doing?”

And they say: “Nothing.” Because they know what they are doing is wrong or immature.

And they know that we know what they were doing. 

And we know that they know that what they were doing was wrong.

So... nothing more needs to be said.

The disciples were arguing about which one of them was the greatest. They knew it was wrong. Jesus knew that they knew it was wrong. Jesus asked them, “What were you arguing about?” And they said, “Nothing…”

2. What more to say?

Now, because I’ve been so busy - not just with teaching, but with two different all-day trainings I had to take in the same week - it’s been hard to find the time to figure out just what I want to say in this sermon. 

It’s also been hard, because I read the scripture, and I hear Jesus’ words that the greatest must serve, that the one who wants to be first must be last and a servant to all, and I think: “What more needs to be said?”

It’s like the story of the seminary student who was terrified to preach his first sermon. But the day came, so he stood up in front of his professor and his classmates, and he said: “You all already know what I’m going to preach on, so there’s no point in me preaching it.” And he sat down.

The professor said to him, “I know we are your professor and classmates, but you have to assume that we don’t know, and preach to us anyway. Try again tomorrow.”

The next day, that student got up to preach and said, “You don’t know what I’m going to tell you, so me telling you won’t change anything…” and he sat down.

The professor said to him, “OK, let’s assume that some of us do know and some of us don’t. Try again tomorrow.”

The next day, that student got up to preach and said, “Some of you know, and some of you don’t know; so, those of you who know, tell those of you who don’t.” And he sat down.

I feel a little bit like that student today, because Jesus teaching that the first must be last, and that we need to welcome and serve the lowly and not just those who are great - those who are like a child - is great stuff… but you already know that. And you live that out, in the ministry of this congregation, in the way you do welcome everyone, and not just those who are “important;” and you do serve others with love, those you know, those in our church family; as well as those you don’t know, supporting people in our community and our world through special offerings and outreach efforts and other activities.

So… what more do I need to say?

3. Welcome

How about this: This week, President Biden came to Long Beach, and a lot of people got all excited, and did all they could to give the president a warm welcome. So maybe this is a good time to ask: would they have gotten themselves all worked up and done just as much to show a great extravagant welcome if the person coming to visit was a “nobody?” 

Did the custodian who cleaned the space where Biden spoke get made to feel just as welcome, just as important?

Did the hotel workers who cleaned the president’s hotel room in downtown Long Beach get made to feel just as welcome, just as important?

What more do I need to say…?

I guess I could talk about myself, and my own reaction when I get noticed by important people. I tweet something, and sometimes our General Minister Terri Hord Owens likes it and comments on it and retweets it… that gets me excited… more excited than if someone I don’t know or don’t care about likes something I post online…

And last spring, when several hundred people gathered on the beach in support of the LGBTQ community, several of us from BKCC were there; and the mayor of Long Beach came up to me and recognized me and asked how the church is doing… that gets me excited… more excited than if someone I don’t know or don’t care about recognizes me and says hi to me…

In fact, someone did come up to me the other day to say they’ve seen my posts on social media and that they liked them, and I thought, “that’s nice,” and I tried to quickly get away.

I didn’t exactly show the same level of love or kindness or appreciation to this person that I did to the mayor or the general minister...

And if the mayor were coming to church, or if the General Minister were coming to visit us, would we do more to welcome them than we would a visitor we don’t know who shows up one Sunday for worship?

I’m sure we would.

So maybe we don’t know - and I mean really know - this teaching of Jesus as well as we think we do.

And I’m not saying we shouldn’t welcome the mayor or the general minister or the president… but maybe, even we need to work on how we welcome others - those who are less important. You know, like children in the first century.

4. Welcoming the one not noticed

In the first century, parents loved their children, just like parents do today. But children weren’t considered important members of society. They didn’t belong in public, especially in the presence of someone important, someone like Jesus. 

So when Jesus says to welcome the children, he’s saying to welcome those who are overlooked. Welcome those who are considered least important in society. If you’re going to host an extravagant welcome celebration for an important politician or famous personality, do the same for everyone else.

If you’re going to get excited that your post on twitter or facebook was noticed by someone important, be sure to also notice and get excited when someone less important notices. 

Isn’t that the lesson here?

Here’s another, somewhat related, story about Jesus, from Luke 14: 

7 When Jesus noticed how the guests sought out the best seats at the table, he told them a parable. 8 “When someone invites you to a wedding celebration, don’t take your seat in the place of honor. Someone more highly regarded than you could have been invited by your host. 9 The host who invited both of you will come and say to you, ‘Give your seat to this other person.’ Embarrassed, you will take your seat in the least important place. 10 Instead, when you receive an invitation, go and sit in the least important place. When your host approaches you, he will say, ‘Friend, move up here to a better seat.’ Then you will be honored in the presence of all your fellow guests. 11 All who lift themselves up will be brought low, and those who make themselves low will be lifted up.”

We like to be noticed. We like to notice people who notice us. We like to notice and show hospitality to important people who notice us, or in the hopes that they will notice us.

But God notices the things we do for the least of these, the less important people in the eyes of society, the people who have been ignored and made invisible by society.

And when we seek to make ourselves less important, so that the light of recognition can shine more brightly on others, then God will shine recognition upon us.

5. To Walk Humbly

I mentioned that I took part in two all-day trainings. These trainings took place via zoom - one last Thursday, and one last Saturday - and they are required for me to keep my ministerial standing in the Pacific Southwest Region.

One of the trainings was a pro-reconciliation, anti-racism training. And the other also touched on issues surrounding race.

And one thing I’ve learned when it comes to issues of race and racism, is that a white male like myself has to approach the issue with a bit of humility.

This is a time for me to listen and learn. Because I have much to learn. In fact, we as a church still have much to learn as we seek to follow Jesus’ teachings - especially those about welcoming those who have long been made to feel unwelcome.

At one point in our conversation, it was mentioned that our Disciples of Christ mission statement could be seen as problematic. Our denomination has a mission statement that says we are “to be and to share the Good News of Jesus Christ, witnessing, loving and serving from our doorsteps to the ends of the earth.”

It was pointed out that that phrase “from our doorsteps to the ends of the earth” elevates us to a level of importance because it assumes we have all the knowledge, that we have possession of the gospel, and that ministry flows in only one direction: from us, to them. That implies that they (whoever “they” are) are less knowledgeable and less holy, and that they need us to help them grow in knowledge and become more holy.

It prevents us from humbling ourselves and allowing those at the ends of the earth to minister to us and teach us.

Now, I had never thought of this statement in this way. My first reaction was to say, “...but it’s biblical!”

But for those earliest disciples, who were given the task to proclaim the gospel “to the ends of the earth,” they were in a position of disadvantage. They were persecuted, they were outcasts, and they were oppressed by the empire.

For us, our situation is just the opposite. For a Christian denomination in the United States, we are not persecuted, we are not outcasts, and Christianity is not being oppressed by the government.

So maybe we need to humble ourselves a bit and reconsider the wording of that statement, given our context.

As it turns out, our denomination’s global ministries division is very good at serving others with humility. Our mission workers who travel around the world see ministry as a two-way street. The people they work with in far-off places have as much to teach us as we have to teach them.

But we have to be willing to listen. Two of our global ministry workers - Nishan and Maria Bakalian - are taking a short break from their work in Lebanon and are visiting congregations in southern California to share what they’ve learned; and they will be here ten days from now, on Wednesday, September 29.

I’m working on organizing an informal gathering for us to welcome them and learn from them. I really didn’t plan for this sermon to be one long advertisement for their visit - in fact, I didn’t even make the connection until just yesterday, as I was finishing work on this sermon. 

But gathering to hear what they have to say, welcoming them for one evening, and learning from them what the people of Lebanon might have to teach us - isn’t that the type of thing Jesus is talking about here?

So let me know if you want to come. I don’t know yet where we’ll meet - I’ll figure that out this week. But I need to know who’ll come; who will join me in welcoming them, and learning from them, about how we can be better servants to people in places all over the world.