Do You Believe God Is Distant? Have You Felt Like God Has Put Up a Fence? Mark 12:1-12

 

Rev. George Miller

March 3, 2024

Mark 12:1-12

 

“God, the Lord is my strength, he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, and makes me tread upon the heights.” (Habakkuk 3:19)

 

Once upon a time, in the land of Israel, there lived a prophet named Habakkuk.  Legend has it that he was named after a plant that grew in the North.

 

Habakkuk loved the Lord.  But he felt restless.  He was a man attuned to the temperature of his time and he could sense that war is about to begin.

 

He sees the injustice.  He’s been witness to senseless violence.  He’s tired, so tired of the strife and suffering of the people.

 

But more than that, he’s tired with God.  He’s disappointed with the Lord.  He thinks God is just being deaf and acting lazy.

 

While other prophets place the blame on the people and want to blame the leaders, Habakkuk does something else- he places the blame on God.

 

Habakkuk doesn’t mince his words; he doesn’t play nice and gentle. 

 

He sees all the mess, all the chaos, all the fuss around him and he says to God very bluntly “How long?  How long are you going to let things keep going the way they are going?”

 

Habakkuk speaks directly to God and asks, “How long do I, how long do we, have to cry out for help before you hear us?”

 

“How many mothers need to see their sons die and how many fathers need to hear their daughters cry before you step in and do something?”

 

Habakkuk’s faith is unwavering; fearless.  His faith is formidable.

 

He fully believes in God.  He fully believes in the God of the Red Sea who heard the cry of the captives.

 

He believes that God is strong, God is capable, and God cares enough about the least of these. 

 

With that knowledge he says  “How long are you going to let sin surround us before you do what you are supposed to do?”

 

…and here is the cool thing.  God hears.

 

God hears Habakuk.

God acknowledges his concerns.

God accepts the challenge.

God responds. 

 

God says “Believe me when I say that I see; believe me when I say that I hear; believe me when I say that I know.”

 

God hears all the bad that Habakuk says about God and God says “Hold on.  Be faithfully patient.  And wait.”

 

“I know waiting is not your strong suit, but wait…and you will see just how much I do love, how much I do care, and how much I can do.”

 

And though this message doesn’t solve all of the current problems Habakkuk sees, it gives him space to breathe, time to reset.

 

And it gives him Hope.  Hope that God is still there; hope that God is still being God.

 

With that hope comes a sense of peace, and a sense of comfort.

 

At the end of his conversations with God, in which Habakkuk feels heard and comforted, he says-

 

“God, the Lord is my strength, he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, and makes me tread upon the heights.”

 

And that is so beautiful.

 

What else is beautiful is that through Habakkuk we have a biblical role model of how we can be honest with God, how we can say what we mean, we can discuss what distresses us…and God hears.

 

What’s so beautiful is that we can question, we can wrestle, we can even disagree with God, as long as we stay in communication and relationship with our Creator…

 

All of this leads us to today’s reading.  It is a reading I dislike, a reading that comes across as most uncomfortable.

 

For me, it doesn’t feel like it fits; doesn’t seem to reflect where we have been in our journey with Jesus.

 

This year we’ve presented a vision of Jesus who is right there, hands on, validating the life and intimate aspects of the human experience.

 

Jesus has been at our workplace, in our bedroom, in our places of mental disarray and medical issues. 

 

Jesus shows us again and again that the Lord is our strength, who makes our feet like the feet of a deer, and makes us  tread upon the heights.

 

When not visiting with us, Jesus has been telling parables about things we know.  Sowing seeds, planting crops, baking bread.

 

But here comes a parable in which the every-day person is presented as evil, the workers are the bad guys.

 

Modern theologians question if this story was even told by Jesus or if it was made up by Mark or inserted by someone else to make the religious leaders of their day look bad…and I may agree.

 

The story starts with a man who plants a vineyard, puts a fence around it, and then leaves for another country.

 

Right away, with the mention of the fence, there is a visceral reaction.

 

Sure, fences can be a good thing.  They can keep you safe, keep your dog from running into the street, but they also separate.

 

Right away, I think of my childhood neighborhood where we had a grouchy neighbor named Frank who was always complaining, always yelling at us kids when we played in front of his house. 

 

We’d be playing football, baseball, tag and at some point Frank would pop his angry head out the door and yell move away.

 

So this parable rubs me the wrong way, as if God is an middle aged grump who doesn’t want anyone to have fun.

 

What’s worse, though, is this sense of desertion. 

 

After this man puts up the fence, and leases it to the tenants, he ups and leaves, he goes to a different land, never to be seen again.

 

This does not strike me as the God in Genesis who walked with Adam in the cool evening breeze. 

 

This doesn’t sound like the God who sat with Abraham under the oaks of Mamre.

 

It certainly doesn’t sound like the God who wrestles with Jacob.

 

This does not sound like God is the Lord of our strength, who makes our feet like the deer, and our spirits tread upon the heights.

 

This sounds as if God is absent, uncaring, and too busy with foie gras and Cuban cigars to care about the people in God’s care.

 

Yes, there’s the wine press, yes, there’s the watchtower, but they seem more as a babysitter than the actual presence of the landlord.

 

So when his slave is sent to the people, they don’t respond so kindly.  Maybe what they really wanted was the man.  They didn’t want some peon coming along.

 

Maybe they really missed the man, maybe they wished there would be some more “water from the rock” and “manna from heaven” moments.

 

Maybe like Habakkuk, they felt the owner of the vineyard was away too long, and therefore too uncaring and far too inaccessible.

 

So instead of being like Habakkuk and using their words, they use their actions, they use their hands, they use their fists.

 

This is not to get the tenants off the hook, but what if part of what was really going on is that they really missed the man, they really missed his presence, they really missed his miracles?

 

What if what they are feeling is “Does it matter?  Does anything we do make a difference if the landlord is far far away, so distant, and so uninvolved in our lives?”

 

Like Habakkuk, like Jacob, I wrestle with this parable, because it feels upsetting that a fence has been put up and he went away.

 

And it so goes against what Jesus has been talking about. 

 

Throughout Mark, the God that Jesus seems to embody, seems to represent is a God who is very hands on, who is very present, who is very much there.

 

Throughout Mark, the God that Jesus seems to embody is one who has no fence, who is not Frank the neighbor, who is right there, right amongst the people be it work, field, home or graveyard.

 

The one saving grace is that this parable is not aimed at the every day person, this story was not told to point a finger at the average person just trying to make ends meet and see another weekend come along.

 

This parable was aimed at the chief priests, scribes and elders who were the head of the religious institution.

 

This was aimed at those who were supposed to know better and act differently.

 

Still, this scripture sits uncomfortably, and it leads more to a set of questions than to any kind of answer.

 

How do you perceive God to be?  What do you imagine your relationship with the Lord is like?

 

Do you see God as close at hand or do you see God as out of the country, and how does this affect your relationship?

 

Do you see God as active in your garden, or do you see God as walking away once it’s built?

 

Do you see God as putting up fences or tearing them down?

 

And if you believe there are fences that God constructs, what are their purposes and are they for good?

 

We ask these questions and we continue to speak with God as we make this Lenten journey, knowing that just as God heard the captives and God heard Habakkuk, God hears us.

 

May we each be able to receive an answer.  And like Habakkuk, may we each be able to say

 

“God, the Lord is my strength, he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, and makes me tread upon the heights.”

 

For that, let us say “Amen.”

When Wealth Gets in the Way of Relationship; Mark 10:17-31

 

Rev. George Miller

Feb 18, 2024

Mark 10: 17-31

 

As we journey with Jesus from the Jordan to Jerusalem, sea to mountain, you may have noticed something important- the restoration of relationships.

 

With virtually every demon cast out, every body that’s healed, there is a mention of returning to home, family, friends.

 

Which is so fitting as we celebrate Canadian Heritage Day which encourages family and friends to go out in their community to appreciate all the gifts of the earth, of artists, of architecture, parks, together.

 

Sure, you can see all these things by yourself, but it is so much better when you have somebody by your side to turn and talk to, be it in admiration for what’s before you or chisme about who’s around you.

 

Remember back in September when we were at the wedding in Cana with Jesus?

 

We discussed the importance of family and community in the Latin culture and how this sense of belonging to something greater than you is consistent in many cultures, especially in Biblical times.

 

You can’t reap the benefits of being part of something if you are kept apart.

 

So when Jesus heals someone he is doing more than bringing about wellness, he is empowering them to return to community life, to worship, to home, work, to those that love them.

 

The daughter of Jairus’ who gets to resume eating with her Mom and Dad.

 

The man in the graveyard who is encouraged to go home to his amigos, and travels through the Decapolis amazing people.

 

Peter’s mother-in-law gets to go back to being the family’s matriarch as she serves.

 

Each case we see how healing brings an opportunity to go out into the world and be a part of something greater.

 

But then we come to this very sad story about a man who has his chance for restoration, and leaves with deep grief and depression.

 

It is interesting to encounter this story about a person who appears to have it all.

 

The way we are told that Jesus looks at him with great love.  The verbal back and forth that shows what a great student this man is; the potential he has to be an amazing disciple.

 

Within the full spectrum of Mark’s narrative, this story seems to be something more than what our ears hear.

 

Is this a complete condemnation of wealth?

 

Or is this another story of a man who is demon possessed, of a person who is unwell and in needing of healing.

 

It almost feels as if this man doesn’t have money, but that the money has him.

 

Just as the man in the graveyard is tormented by demons, is it possible that this man is in his own kind of graveyard where he too is tormented?

 

The woman who was bleeding loses all her money to be made well; this guy has all the money but almost seems as if he has been bled out and is just as distressed as her.

 

Is Mark hinting that his wealth has not increased his life, but has actually held him back and overshadowed his life?

 

We don’t know much about this man or his money; how he earns it, chooses to use it, how he spends it, how he saves it. 

 

Did he inherit his wealth from Daddy?  Did he earn each cent by working hard and being frugal? 

 

Was he a greedy landlord or a benevolent employer?

 

Is it fair that Jesus gave him such a binary ultimatum?

 

This man came to Jesus with such an inquisitive question, yet he is given an either/or answer.

 

The man asks.  Jesus looks at him with great love, then says what are the hardest words for this particular man to hear.

 

And he walks away, alone.

 

He walks away grieving, sad, distressed, upset, nauseous.

 

This man has an encounter with Jesus and doesn’t end up transformed or healed.

 

He does not go and serve, he does not go into the Decapolis sharing the good news, he doesn’t join Mom and Dad at the dining room table.

 

Unlike the daughter, the graveyard man, the matriarch, this man leaves Jesus, and he leaves unrestored, he leaves alone.

 

This is such a sad sad story.

 

And I wonder- did Jesus have to be so black and white with him?

 

Could Jesus have asked “Tell me, how are you using your financial gifts?”  Could Jesus have engaged in a more insightful conversation?

 

What if this man had been like Abraham bartering with God?

 

What if the man said “Jesus, I hear you, but what if I give 20%” and see what Jesus says?

 

What if the man had said “What if I give 30% and start a food pantry, orphanage and school?”

 

Would Jesus have engaged him in that conversation?  Or would the answer still be the same?

 

This man who left alone and broken hearted, so sick with sadness because all that he has actually has him and he can’t let go.

 

This is a complex, complicated story, one that makes us think, and makes us ponder about our own relationship with God, with money, with those around us.

 

When told to sell it all how many of us would say “Yes”?

 

Thinking back to Christmas, do we allow money to make us like Ebenezer Scrooge in which we suffer with gruel and guilt, alone in our emptiness?

 

Does our relationship with money allow us to be part of change, act with compassion, care?

 

For this particular man at this particular moment, he was too possessed to be a part of something bigger than himself, so he walked away alone.

 

Wouldn’t we love to know more about his story, to discover what he did afterwards, if there was any kind of change, any kind of middle ground?

 

But for now we are left with this brutal lesson with this cold tale, and like the parables, we are left to ponder, to wonder, to look deep within ourselves.

 

And that is fitting for today, as we enter Lent, as we journey with Jesus to the Cross.

 

Knowing that every step, every moment may not be easy, may not feel good, but we do not have to be like this man, we do not have to be alone.

 

For in Jesus we have an experience that brings us into community, brings us to the table, empowers us to be part of something bigger than ourselves.

 

For we have each other, we have God, and we have Jesus to make this walk with.  For that we can say “Amen.”

Following the Beloved One; Mark 8:27-33; 9:2-8

 

Rev. George Miller

February 11, 2024

Mark 8:27-33; 9:2-8

 

Today we come to a pivotal moment.  Jesus reveals what is about to happen, where his ministry will lead and how he will endure great suffering and pain.

 

And the disciples do not get it.  How are they supposed to get it? 

 

Six days later Jesus takes three of them up a hill where a magnificent event occurs, and Peter doesn’t quite get the significance of what just happened.

 

Often, when sharing these readings in Bible Study, the people participating have so many questions.

 

Usually the number one question is “Why don’t the Disciples get it?”

 

The disciples were there to hear his teachings.  They were there to personally witness the healings.

 

In chapter 6 the disciples themselves go out in groups of two in which they preach, cast out demons and bring wellness to others.

 

How did they not get it?  Seeing Peter’s mother-in-law going from being sick to serving,

 

seeing the man in the graveyard go from self-harm to being well groomed,

 

watching a restored girl share a meal with her Mom and Dad.

 

After all the teachings, healings, the disciples just don’t seem to get it.  Why?

 

The demons got it.  A non-Jewish woman got it.  Those without sight and sound get it.

 

But not the Disciples.  Why don’t they get it?

 

…perhaps we are being too unkind and impatient with Peter and all the others.

 

After all, here we are 2,000 years later with a Bible full of their foibles and follies and we get to see the Big Picture as those who weren’t there.

 

At this point of the story, the disciples knew nothing about the Crucifixion or the Resurrection, they had no notion of Jesus being a Messiah who suffered.

 

They thought Jesus would be the Messiah who saves them from unfair taxation, foreign threat, and Roman rule.

 

They thought Jesus would whip society back into place, not be whipped by society.

 

The Disciples don’t get it, and we ask “Why?”

 

And maybe it is not about whether Peter and the disciples got it or not…but the point is that they followed…

 

They did not always get it, they did not always understand what Jesus was about, but they followed.

 

And maybe THAT is the point.  Maybe that’s what it is about. 

 

Maybe that is what Peter and John and all the rest are role modeling to us today.

 

Even when the Disciples did not fully understand, even when they didn’t always get the point, they still made the choice and they still followed Jesus.

 

They followed him among the shore, they followed him to private homes, to the graveyards, they followed him to where people have diseases and children die.

 

The disciples followed Jesus, and let’s be honest, Jesus was not easy to follow.

 

For one thing, Jesus and his style of healing was not always consistent.

 

He heals Peter’s Mother-in-Law by taking her hand, but the daughter of Jarius he says “Talitha cum.” 

 

Jesus heals a leper by touching him and saying “be made clean” but a woman with blood receives healing by touching his clothes.

 

Jesus heals a deaf and a blind man by using spit, but he offers healing to a leper by using his words.

 

The only thing consistent about Jesus and his form of ministry is his compassion.

 

His compassion for anyone, regardless if they are amongst the least of these or a family in power.

 

Jesus is consistent with his compassion for anyone seeking wellness, a better life, a new beginning, restoration, relationship.

 

Maybe, just maybe following Jesus has nothing to do with understanding, but it means-

 

to follow in faith, to follow with your heart, be it full or broken, in love or ostracized.

 

Maybe following Jesus without fully “getting it” is the point.

 

Following Jesus does not come with a guarantee, or the promise of consistency.

 

Following Jesus is not all hearts and roses, romance and dazzling clothes.

 

Following Jesus is to follow in faith, it is to follow in kindness, care, it is to follow in humility.

 

And who is this Jesus we follow? 

 

In Mark 9:7, God calls Jesus the Beloved One.

 

Which means that although we may not always understand, we may not always “get it”, we are following God’s Beloved One.

 

The One who called the working men and women, the menders and maligned.

 

We are following the Beloved One who cared about the children of leaders and the daughters of gentiles.

 

God’s Beloved is the one who cared for the deaf and blind, those living with disabilities and those with restless spirits.

 

Does following the Beloved One mean that you have to always understand?

 

No.

 

Does following the Beloved One mean that you have to be perfect?

 

No.

 

No one is perfect.  No place is perfect.  No government is perfect.  No church is perfect.

 

But in our imperfection, in our questions- are we still willing to follow?

 

In your imperfections, in your doubt will you follow?

 

Will you follow the Beloved One, and not just on the glorious mountaintop full of sunshine and glorious light.

 

Will you follow Jesus by the shore full of fishermen and farm folk?

 

Will you follow in the home, in the sickbed, the chores, the bills?

 

Will you follow in the graveyard, in the death and depression?

 

Maybe, Jesus is Ok with us not knowing or getting it all.

 

Maybe Jesus is Ok with us just…following, knowing that we want him to be our King,

 

that we want to be better citizens of his Kingdom,

 

we want to be better citizens of Heaven.

 

That we are willing to Follow Jesus with our imperfect hearts, our imperfect bodies, and to see him as our Beloved.

 

For that, we can say “Amen.”