"Afraid of Christ?"
Don't be afraid to step out in faith.
Sermon Preached by
The Rev. Dr. Andrew Stirling
Sunday, February 2, 2003
Text: Mark 10:32-39
There is a parable about a farmer sitting on the front steps of his house in Texas with a cap on and smoking his corncob pipe, when a stranger walks up and asks him, "How is your cotton growing?"
The farmer says: "Don't have no cotton, 'fraid of the boll weevil."
The stranger then asks: "How is your corn growing?"
"Ain't got no corn, 'fraid of the drought," the farmer says.
The stranger says to him, "Well, how are your potatoes growing?"
"Ain't got no potatoes, 'fraid of the tater bug," the farmer says.
"So, what are you growing?" the stranger asks finally.
The farmer says: "Nothing. I decided to play it safe instead."
My friends, there are many people who, like the farmer from Texas, out of fear of the unknown like to play it safe. They would rather take the passive route, the way of least resistance, the way of the feeble, the way of the ordinary, than risk failure and take a step in faith into the unknown. I think it is fair to say that the world today is similarly fraught with that paralyzing fear.
You can see it almost every day in the way in which, for example, our financial markets are playing themselves out. Although all the economists tell us that the fundamentals of our economy are sound, that even south of the border things are still pretty good, apart from an increase in unemployment, there has been a pervasive fear since September 11, and particularly right now, with the threat of war. A fear of going out into the markets and risking and investing, a fear of the unknown, a fear that makes us lack boldness and takes away our venturesome spirit. I don't know if you feel like me, but it just seems that everything at the moment is on hold and that uncertainty is the result of fear.
I see that fear very often, and I felt it when I listened to the news and saw the pictures of the terrible cataclysm in the skies over Texas yesterday morning. I'm sure the great leaders and planners at NASA, in the face of such a disaster, must be feeling that pervasive fear and wondering whether all their achievements and plans yet to be accomplished, will go forward. Fear can paralyze and I'm sure that there is uncertainty in the minds of many who are planning.
I can speak of that fear on a very personal level this morning because on Friday night I had the great privilege of being invited to give the "toast to the lassies" at the Robbie Burns supper at Hart House. I had to get up in front of 370 Scots, who had listened to the wonderful words of Doug Gibson and Don Harron as Charlie Farquarson and imbibed a considerable amount of Scottish fluid, to toast the lassies. What made it all the more frightening was that in a room full of Scots, many of whom were enormous kilted rugby and bagpipe players, I must have been one of only three Englishmen there.
When I got up to speak, wearing my clerical shirt, at 11:30 at night at a Burns supper, I was terrified. I have always been referred to by my Scottish cousins as the "wee illegitimate one" because I was born in England - although they did use another, more concise phrase to describe me! Here I was, having to toast, of all people, one of the great disdainers of the English, Robbie Burns himself. It was terrifying! (What a great evening it turned out to be though - but that's an aside.) Fear can cause you to back away from the brink of very important things. It can cause you to wonder and to question and, in fact, to lack boldness.
We find that in our text this morning from the Gospel of Mark. It is also in an earlier passage in Chapter Nine of the same Gospel, where on two separate occasions we read that the disciples were afraid. They were afraid of Jesus Christ. Now, I know that historically throughout the centuries, ever since the death of Jesus, because of many of the excesses of the church there is a fear of the name of Jesus Christ. There have been times when the church has turned to power and fear as a way of trying to get people to join it or to be submitted to it or to believe in Him. We have subdued many people by the power of fear - the fear of hell, the fear of death, the fear of retribution or at times, even the fear of political power.
There have been times when leaders in the church have listened to the words of Nicolo Machiavelli:
Men hesitate less to injure a man who makes himself loved than to injure one who makes himself feared, for their love is held by a chain of obligation, which, because of men's wickedness, is broken on every occasion for the sake of selfish profit, but their fear is secured by a dread of punishment which never fails you. ("The Prince," 1515)
Throughout the history of the church, probably since the time Constantine went to the Battle of Milvian Bridge, and was victorious under the Chi Rho, the symbol of the cross, the churches have been tempted to use power and threats to bring people into submission to Jesus Christ. Is it any wonder that people are afraid of Christ? Is it any wonder that there are people throughout the history of the church who have been subdued under the very power of that fear and tyranny, who, when they hear the name of Jesus Christ, turn away and want nothing to do with him?
There have been those throughout history who have been afraid of Christ -minorities within the church, women who have not always been given their rightful place and status, Aboriginal groups who have been subdued by the power of the church. There are people of other religions who, when you mention the name of Jesus Christ and show the symbol of the cross, are afraid because of past conflicts. They are afraid of Jesus Christ.
Today's text is about disciples who are afraid of Jesus Christ. But what is so wonderful about this text is that their fears were unfounded. In the very midst of their fears, it is precisely the power and the grace of Jesus Christ that enables them to rise above their fears into the love and the grace and the truth and the life-giving power of God.
There are those who have also been frightened of the name of Jesus Christ for theological reasons. There have been those who have wanted an "upward and onward" faith - a faith that believes everything is going to be okay and all we have to do is be positive in our thinking. It is a faith that doesn't need a Jesus Christ at all. When you mention the name Jesus Christ, a commitment to discipleship, and a willingness to suffer alongside those who are in need, they want no part of it. They are afraid of Jesus Christ because they want a simple and easy religion.
Ibsen in his play "Brand" tells the story of a young minister who looks at his colleagues and sees that they are feeble and weak and lacking in conviction. He observes that they are religious, but only one day a week - that they are patriotic, but only on the days of national celebrations - that they are humorous, but only every now and again for fear that they would be belittled for their humour. He goes on to say that they are so feeble and so weak that when they recite the Lord's Prayer they only really believe in one line in it: "Give us this day our daily bread." As for the rest, they ignore it. He suggests: These are the people who are afraid of Jesus Christ Himself, and if you were to say to them 'all or nothing,' when it comes to Jesus, they would take the easy way out and say nothing.
You see, my friends, there are those who like those earliest disciples are a little uncertain about Jesus of Nazareth and would rather keep an arm's length from Him than be drawn into faith and commitment to Him.
In our text this morning there are two examples of this. The first is those disciples who were seeking a blissful ignorance. Mark tells us that after Jesus told these followers what was going to happen to Him, they did not understand His words but they were afraid to ask. Jesus had just told them what would happen to Him - that He was going to die, that He was going to be crucified - and rather than find out the reason, they just buried their heads and were afraid to ask Him any further questions.
I think they must have felt like I do when I go to my doctor, whom I hold in high esteem and regard. When he tells me that I have to have tests for something, I am assured that he wants me to have those tests because through their findings I might be better. And I trust him: He is a man of wisdom and grace. The only problem is that I never share his joy in ordering the tests. In fact, I would often rather not know the results! I already know I weigh too much, my cholesterol is too high, my blood pressure is too high and I talk too much! I know all that; I don't need him to tell me or confirm that through tests. I would rather not know.
And if you feel like that, then you know how the disciples felt - Jesus is telling them what is going to happen and they don't want to know. The problem is, as you and I well know, that sometimes ignoring those tests is done at our peril, that not listening to what we are being told will be to our detriment. Those disciples were so frightened of the truth they did not want to hear it, and in not wanting to hear it, they were falling into peril.
Jesus wanted them to come face-to-face with reality. He didn't want them to shy away and not know what the faith was about; He wanted them to make a commitment - a commitment based on knowledge. The problem was that in many ways they preferred dishonesty, they would have rather not known the full truth.
They were like a young man who worked in a small grocery store. A woman came in late one night because all the major chains were closed and she had to make a turkey dinner for friends. She asked him for a turkey. He went behind the meat counter, reached into an ice bucket and pulled out the one turkey that he had and placed it on the scales. It weighed four pounds and he said: "Madam, will this be good enough?"
And she said, "No, I don't think so." She looked at it from every angle: "I don't think four pounds is big enough."
He said, "Well, in that case I'll try to find another one." He put the turkey back into the ice bin, rummaged around and pulled out the very same turkey, placed it on the scales, along with a bit of thumb pressure, and it weighed six pounds. He said to the lady, "Now then, do you think this will suffice?"
She looked at it from every angle and said: "You know, young man, I can't make up my mind, so why don't you wrap both of them for me instead?"
The disciples were being like that with Jesus. They were afraid to know the truth and the truth was going to catch them out. They were too frightened to make a commitment, too frightened to ask, too frightened to seek. They were blissful in their ignorance, but they wouldn't be blissful for long.
That is why I want to applaud, particularly, our new members this morning, because they have asked questions, and sought answers. They have asked difficult questions of me and of the staff, but they are making a commitment, a commitment that is strong. And I encourage all of you in your faith and your life not to be afraid to ask questions of Jesus Christ, not to be afraid to seek deeper knowledge and understanding of Christ. For do you want to have the kind of faith of the preachers in Ibsen's play, or do you want to have the boldness of those who say: "I have no fear in asking and seeking the truth."
There was a second group, that sought a passive discipleship. We read in Chapter 10 that as they followed Jesus they were afraid. In other words, they had already made some degree of commitment but they were frightened of where it would go. Jesus takes 12 amongst this group aside - probably the 12 disciples who were to become apostles - and for the first time in Mark's Gospel He shares something with them that came to be known as one of the early creeds or kerygma of the early church:
Behold, we are going up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be delivered to the chief priests and the scribes, and they will condemn him to death; and will deliver him to the Gentiles; and they will mock him, and spit upon him, and scourge him, and kill him; and three days later he will rise again. (Mark 10:33-34)
You see, in taking the disciples to one side, who were were frightened because he was leading them from Peria to Jerusalem, Jesus warned that he was leading them, in fact, up to the very moment of the cross. He then pronounced something that they hadn't heard before, a word of hope in the midst of fear: "And on the third day I will rise again." That for all their fears of what would happen, to prepare them for the days ahead and the challenges that lay before them, Jesus wanted to remind them that on the third day He would be victorious. There was no need to fear.
There is a delightful true story of a tiger tamer, who during the days of live television in the late 1950s and early 1960s, used to come on television a great deal. One day when he was in the cage with 12 tigers, the power went out. They couldn't broadcast, the lights were out, and he was terrified to be in amongst these 12 tigers. All he had was a stool and a whip, nothing more. Finally, the lights came on and when they did the viewers saw that the tiger tamer had still been able to control the tigers. When the television program ended, there was a news conference and he was asked if he was frightened.
He said: "Of course I was frightened, because I knew that they could see me, as cats, but I could not see them."
So they said, "Well, if you were so frightened, how did you manage to continue?"
He said: "I continued to lift up my chair and crack my whip, because although they could see me and I couldn't see them, they didn't know that."
Very often, my friends, we face the tigers of fear. In the things that we confront in our daily lives as a community and as a society and nation, we face our tigers in the dark. Very often when we face our tigers in the dark we are like the disciples; we do not know the full story and we think those fears bear down on us. But we have, in the midst of those fears, one who said, "And on the third day I will rise again."
Why is it then that people fear Jesus Christ? I do not know. What has been done in the name of Jesus Christ that causes fear, I do not understand. For as the Scriptures tell us, love drives out fear. And love is what we find in Jesus Christ, who went ahead and bore the fears of the world for us. What the disciples needed to learn is what each and every one of us needs to learn, and that is not to follow in the path of the farmer from Texas who wanted to take the safe route.
The fact is that even in the midst of our fears, it is precisely in following Jesus Christ that we receive, ironically, our greatest blessing. And Jesus Christ, therefore, calls us every day in the midst of the world's tigers of fear to follow Him and in following Him, have life. It is the power of faith that subdues the tigers of fear. On the third day Jesus rose from the dead. Amen.
This is a verbatim transcription of the original sermon.