Text:  Mark 8:27-35                                                                                W17th Sunday after Pentecost


 

Hold the Cross


 

            In him whose name which one day all men will confess, and at which every knee will bend, dear brothers and sisters in Christ: There are at various points in each of our lives, certain critical junctures.  These are the times of transition – of moving from one phase of life to another:  like, for example, when a young person reaches that age when he or she leaves the folks and heads out on their own, or when a steady couple decides that it’s time to take the plunge into marriage, or when people change careers, or move from city to city.  You know what I’m talking about:  those points in our lives that call for certain decisions to be made, and actions to be taken based on them, and beyond which the normal rhythm of life is substantially different than it was before.  Such junctures are often described in terms of coming to an intersection or a fork in the road.  That’s because there’s usually several paths that might be pursued, and you have to choose one of them.  The young person thinking of leaving the nest might choose to go to college, or enter military service, or go to a trade school, or maybe not do anything and just hang around the house playing video games until physically thrown out into the cold, cruel world by exasperated parents.  Generally speaking, when you come to one of those forks in the road, it’s best to make a choice and commit yourself to it, rather than have outside forces make the decision for you.

 

In any case, the reason I mention this all is that there are a couple of such critical junctures evident in this morning’s Gospel reading from St. Mark. The first has to do with Jesus. The text we heard marks a major transition in his messianic mission.  Up to this point, he has been spending most of his time going throughout Galilee teaching people about the kingdom of God and healing all their various afflictions. And part of the reason he’s been doing all this is to reveal to his disciples exactly who he is.  Unlike so many false christs both before and since, Jesus did not begin his ministry by announcing his identity.  He didn’t say to his handpicked men, “Hey, I’m the long promised Messiah.  So follow me.”  No, instead he demonstrated who he was.  Through his divine teaching, his loving behavior toward the oppressed, and his powerful miracles he showed that he was the long promised Messiah. He went about fulfilling the prophecies that foretold what the Messiah would do when he came.  And so you’d think that people who knew the prophecies (and most people did) should have been able to add up the evidence and say, “This Jesus, he must be the Christ.”

 

Well, it turns out that it’s a lot more complicated than that.  Even the most seemingly obvious spiritual insights and breakthroughs do not come naturally to the people of this fallen world. Sin has darkened our minds and hardened our hearts to the truths of God.  On our own, we’d never be able to come to the right conclusions about spiritual matters.  So, simply based on observation and knowledge of the facts, we’d not be able to figure out that Jesus is the Christ.  It takes the power of the Holy Spirit working through the revealed Word of God—be it the written Scriptures or the person of Jesus, because both are God’s revealed Word––to make the light go on so that we can properly identify Jesus as Christ and Savior.  That’s why in St. Matthew’s parallel account of this story, when Peter says to Jesus, “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God”, the Lord replies to him, “Blessed are you [Peter], because flesh and blood did not reveal this to you, but [it was made known to you by] my Father in heaven.”

 

But now that (through the power of God) the disciples have made the correct identification of Jesus as the Christ, it’s time to shift to the next phase of his mission.  “Now that you know who I am, let me tell you what I’ve come to do.”  Jesus begins to explain to his disciples the work he must do as the Christ; namely to go to Jerusalem, be rejected by the religious leaders there, be abused and suffer much, and then to die for the sins of the world only to rise again on the third day.  So it’s at this point that Jesus changes the whole tone of his ministry: it becomes darker and more intense – and it’s really not so much like a fork in the road for him, because this has been his plan and path all along; so we might think of it instead as a sudden change in grade.  Things have been pretty smooth and steady up to now; but from this point forward his way will be increasingly steep and difficult.  He will be facing much more opposition, his enemies will become more confrontational and angry, and it will culminate with his total rejection by everyone – ultimately even by his heavenly Father when he is nailed to the cross.

 

So, like I said, this morning we see Jesus at one of his life’s critical turning points; but if it is for him, then it’s also one for all those people who follow him.  But where Jesus had only one hard path to pursue, those who have been with him in Galilee have several options.  They do stand at a fork in the road.  And the course they end up taking is determined pretty much by how the answer the question of Jesus, ”Who do you say that I am?”  It’s a question that every follower of Jesus must answer.  In view of what you’ve seen and heard, and taking into consideration the testimony of the Holy Scriptures, “What do you believe about Jesus?  Who do you think he is?”  It’s a question that calls for a response of faith.  It’s a question that demands a personal affirmation and commitment.  And understand that when Jesus asked the question, there were huge crowds of people who would have called themselves followers of Jesus – but for most of them, the Jesus they were following was more a fabrication of their own sin-darkened imaginations than the real flesh and blood Son of God who stood before them.  And as we’ll see, two thousand years later, that hasn’t changed very much.

 

 As we heard the disciples report, there were many back then who believed Jesus to be a very good man.  They thought he was another (or perhaps a reincarnation) of one of the Lord’s prophets. They heard him preach about a God of compassion, love, and forgiveness – quite unlike anything they were used to hearing about from their rabbis.  They saw Jesus as the helper of the poor and needy, and the friend of sinners.  And they really liked the way he stood up for the little guy, and how he went head to head with all of the “best” people in society—those who thought themselves to be so holy and who were always looking down their noses at everybody else.  To them he was almost like a moral Robin Hood, taking honor from proud and giving it to the humble.  Yes, they thought Jesus was a prophet who had some wonderful new insights about God – insights that had to potential to change the world; but they did not believe him to be the long promised Savior, the one called Christ.

 

And in many ways, this is exactly where much of modern, so-called “liberal” Christianity is today.  Oh, make no mistake, they call Jesus the “Christ”; but without any real understanding of what the Scriptural Christ was supposed to be.  Instead, they’ve latched on to certain points of his teaching, and discarded other points that don’t resonate quite as well with them. Specifically, they’ve chosen to highlight Jesus’ reaching out to and close association with the poor and downtrodden, with sinners and outcasts.  They remember above all his words:  “Judge not, lest ye be judged”, and from this they’ve derived a theology of acceptance and inclusion that condemns no one.  They see Jesus more as a social reformer, who would have us do away with distinctions of class, race, gender, sexual orientation, what have you – the things they perceive to be root causes of society’s ills.  They believe that by employing Jesus’ teachings of love and tolerance, we can make this a better world for everyone.

 

And that’s the problem with such a theology:  it has no need for a Christ who is a Savior.  All it needs is a christ who is a good enough messenger that he can teach us how to save ourselves – and even then, just in this world, not the next – but that’s okay, because such a theology isn’t too sure about the next life anyway.  Today is all that matters.  Well, need I say it?  Such a christ is no Christ at all.  Nor can you take just some of his message and leave other parts behind.  Yes, Jesus accepted sinners:  repentant sinners, those who hated their sin and feared God’s judgments, and who wanted to amend their lives.  And we need to be careful to draw that distinction.  Jesus did not “accept people just the way they were.” He preached against the sin that filled people’s lives, and he accepted the contrite and the broken hearted.  His sharpest words were for those who felt no need to repent.  And this is important:  A Jesus who doesn’t condemn hardened sinners has absolutely no need to die as a substitute for them.  And so perhaps it’s not surprising that that’s exactly what we’re hearing from so many theologians of the liberal church.  A line I come across in their books and articles quite frequently runs something like this:  I just can’t believe in a God who would demand the sacrifice of anyone, much less his own son!  They follow a Jesus who is not the Christ – and certainly not one who carries a cross for the sin of the world.

 

And at least with respect to that last statement, they are not entirely alone. Speaking for the rest of the disciples, Simon Peter confessed that Jesus was indeed the Lord’s Christ whose coming the prophets had foretold.  As was stated before, this wisdom did come from brilliant deduction, but rather from the illumination of the Holy Spirit.  Peter recognized that Jesus was far more than another of the Lord’s prophets. He knew Jesus was God’s own Son, Immanuel, “the God who is with us”.  And he knew that the Lord did not “accept people just the way they were”. He himself had experienced the terror of God’s judgments against the sin in his own life when he realized that in Jesus he had encountered God in flesh.  He fell at Jesus’ feet and pleaded, “Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man.”  He didn’t count himself worthy to be with Jesus.  But then he had also experienced the Lord’s forgiveness; and comforted by the Lord’s redeeming grace, he found the strength to follow Jesus.

 

Unfortunately, as we heard this morning, there were some places and situations he wasn’t willing to follow the Lord.  Like so many others of his day, Peter had definite ideas about what the Christ would do when he came.  It was a theology of triumph and glory.  He imagined that the Christ would be a conqueror who would restore the fortunes of the Kingdom of Israel, a kingdom that had long since lapsed into ruin and decay. And he knew why that was:  it was because of God’s judgment on the nation on account of the people’s sin.  But it was widely held that the Christ, when he came, would restore the Kingdom to God’s people by first turning the people’s hearts back to the Lord.  He would be someone who would inspire the people to be righteous and godly – a new Moses, who would bring out the best in people and get them to gladly and willingly obey the Laws of God.  Then, in view of the people’s obedience, God would bless them beyond measure.

 

That’s why, when Jesus began to explain that the true nature of his mission was to be rejected and to die, Peter was aghast.  A Christ who is rejected by God’s people?  A Christ who suffers, is humiliated, and who dies? What was Jesus talking about?  He took his Captain aside for some sound advice from his loyal first lieutenant.  The text says that he rebuked Jesus.  He used sharp words.  Makes you wonder what he might have said:  “Excuse me Jesus; I know that you are the Christ, and that you’re God’s Son and all, but let me tell you the way it’s supposed to be.  We’re heading onward and upward to glory. Forget this “rejection” stuff.  If anyone stands in our way, we’ll just sweep them aside.  We believe you to be our Christ and king – but hold the cross.  We don’t need that.”

 

And here, I think it’s safe to say, is where much of modern, conservative, evangelical Christianity is.  Oh, certainly they believe in the sacrificial death of Jesus for the sin of the world, but it tends to be something that’s viewed very much as past tense.  “That old sin thing has been dealt with, and now that it has, let’s forget about it, put it behind us, and move on to the victory the Lord has planned for us.  The Lord has called us to be holy:  let’s act the part.”  This is the spirit that lies behind efforts to reform the nation (an earthly kingdom) by erecting monuments to the Ten Commandments in courthouses, getting prayer back into the public schools, and keeping the words “One Nation under God” in the Pledge and on our currency.  The belief is that if we could just elect the right leaders, change enough laws, and enforce them with sufficient deterrents, we could whip this country into shape and thus cause it to be blessed by God.  “If we become good enough, the Lord will reward us.”  You’ll notice in all of that there is no mention of the cross – no mention of the righteousness that comes from God through faith in the atoning work of Jesus apart from our works.  Rather, it has in mind the things of men – that glorify human efforts; not the things of God and that glorify Christ.  That’s why Jesus calls it what it is:  the doctrine of Satan.

 

The problem with this whole point of view is that it sees the battle against sin as something that’s primarily external.  “My sin has been removed; now I have to take the fight to the enemy. We’ve got to defeat those sinners out there – and they have to be beaten by force.”  That’s wrong on two counts.  First, this side of eternity, the battle within never ends.  Yes, we live in the Lord’s grace and blood bought forgiveness.  But we are not free of sin or its consequences.  If anything, as a Christian struggles from day to day while moving forward in faith, the fight against the fallen flesh grows more intense. Like it was for Jesus, forward progress is hard.  We can never say, “I’ll take Jesus as Christ and my Lord; but no thanks, hold the cross, I don’t it need anymore”.  Quite the contrary, growing in faith means realizing how thoroughly sinful you really are and how much more you need the Lord’s forgiveness.  Then it’s appropriate to say, “Hold the cross”; but in the sense of “I need to hold on to it even more tightly”.

 

The other thing that’s wrong with that point of view is that it anticipates that the sin in others can be defeated by enough Christians getting together to pass good legislation, or to provide moral encouragement and role modeling, or if nothing else, to ensure rigid enforcement of laws.  None of those things makes any of us righteous before the Lord.  How could we possibly think it would work for others?  We, as Christians, have not been told to go out and conquer the world for Christ, nor have we been guaranteed any such victory in this world.  The only victory we’ve been promised is the one over our own sin, death, and grave that comes by trust in the Lord who died for us. And the mission we’ve given is to fight the sinner within, and to share the Lord’s good message of salvation with others.  This, we’ve been told, will not result in widespread success or results that are glorious by human standards.  The opposite is true.  We’ve been told to expect rejection, persecution, and defeat.  Holding the cross of Christ means also sharing its sorrows and hardships.

 

And that’s something we are asked to do everyday.  The question of Jesus, “Who do you say that I am?” is one that the Lord confronts us with constantly.  We always stand at the crossroads.  How we answer the question determines how our walk with him will be. Our natural inclinations are to want a Jesus Christ without a cross either by denying that our sins are a problem in the first place (as is done in many liberal circles), or by imaging that our sins are no longer a problem because we’ve gained victory over them (as is done in some conservative circles).  Either way, the goal is to hold the cross at arm’s length and so to avoid it.  Either way, when we do that, we’re not following the Jesus who is Christ and Savior. May God, in his mercy, give each of us the grace to follow his Son faithfully, to recognize our continuing need for his forgiveness, and so to ever more firmly hold to his cross.  In Jesus’ name.  Amen.  

 


Soli Deo Gloria!

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