Genesis 3:8-15; Mark 3:20-35
In my family, a story is told about my
niece, Emily. One day, when she was a
toddler, Emily was in her room, playing quietly. Before long, my sister realized she hadn’t
heard anything from Emily’s room for a few minutes; and when you have small
children, silence is a suspicious thing.
So, my sister poked her head into Emily’s room. And there she was, with the family’s cat,
sitting quietly in the middle of the floor with a Kleenex box … which now was
an empty Kleenex box. And all
around Emily were Kleenexes. She had sat
there and thoroughly enjoyed pulling them out, one by one, and tossing them
into the air to watch them float down.
My sister said, “Emily! How did
those Kleenexes get all over the floor?”
Emily looked up, froze for a moment, and then pointed at the cat sitting
there near her. “Kitty!” Emily
said. Shifting the blame starts early
for us all.
And with that, we’re right there with Adam
and Eve in today’s Old Testament reading.
Now, we need a little backstory: God has created the universe, and the
earth, and the ecosystem’s peaceable kingdom.
And God caps creation with … us, made in the image and likeness of
divinity, to be God’s relationship partners and the stewards of creation. Of course, bearing the divine image and
likeness means the gift of free will; and free will only works if you have things
to choose for and choose against. So,
God puts a limit on these beloved children:
You can eat anything from the bounty I’ve given you, except for the
fruit of two trees – the Tree of Life, and the Tree of the Knowledge of Good
and Evil.
And … cue the snake. Now, the story says the snake is “more
crafty” than God’s other creatures (3:1), but Jewish and Christian traditions
have long associated the snake with the power of evil. The story doesn’t dig into the theological
question of why evil would exist in paradise; but maybe it’s enough to
recognize that if you have free will, and you have a God who’s created humanity
for relationship, there has to be something other than God for people to
choose. So, whatever you see the snake
representing – Satan, original sin, however you want to name “not-God” – there
it is, showing the people that they actually won’t die just for eating
the fruit and knowing good and evil.
Instead, they’ll become even more like God. And so, of course, they eat.
That’s where our story picks up
today. The Lord God takes a stroll
through paradise, and it’s too quiet.
God can’t hear the kids; and like a good parent, God gets suspicious. “Where are you?” God calls out (Genesis 3:9),
knowing their answer will be their indictment.
“I was afraid because I was naked,” the man says (3:10) – afraid
because, knowing good and evil, the people now know what it is to be exposed
and vulnerable and ashamed. So, God asks
the already-answered question: “Have you eaten from the tree of which I
commanded you not to eat?” (3:11). And
the finger-pointing begins: The man
blames the woman and implicitly blames God, too – “the woman you gave to
be with me, she gave me the fruit from the tree” (3:12). And the woman points on down the line: “The serpent tricked me,” she says – which is
true. The power of not-God bears some of
the blame; and God punishes the snake, re-creating it lower in the great chain
of being. But the man and woman, too, each
admit their part: “I ate” (3:12,13).
It makes no sense, but that doesn’t make
it less true: The humans trust a
creature that doesn’t have their best interest at heart over the Creator who
gave them life and meets all their needs.
Our desire to be God starts from the very beginning, our sacred stories
tell us. And right alongside it is the
snake, the power of not-God, telling us we’ll profit from our own
destruction. Sin and evil walk hand in
hand, even in paradise.
We don’t have to look hard to see them
walking together here and now, too. This
could be a fill-in-the-blank sermon – insert your favorite social evil
here. But today, our Diocese of West
Missouri has chosen an evil for us to examine.
This is Wear Orange Sunday, a time for churches to raise up the evil of
gun violence. Of course, guns aren’t the
only instrument of violence among us, but you don’t have to read the news long
to identify our weapon of choice. The
observance this Sunday takes its name from a grassroots effort in Chicago 11
years ago, when a young woman was shot and killed on a playground. To remember her and grieve her death, members
of her community wore orange, the color hunters wear to protect themselves from
being shot.
Of course, this kind of remembrance and
lament isn’t new at St. Andrew’s. Every
Sunday, for years now, we’ve prayed by name for the members of our community
who died in violent acts that week. I
don’t know about you, but it never ceases to grieve me. I always hope we won’t have to read that line
in the prayers this week, but it’s always there. And it grieves me to hear the names. These aren’t “those people” who end up shot,
“those people” who live in neighborhoods that aren’t like mine. Instead, it’s William, and Ayesha, and Manuel
– real, formerly live people. So, this
morning, for Wear Orange Sunday, in addition to remembering those who died in
violent acts in the past week, we also have a prayer station over in the
columbarium. There are candles you can
light and plant in sand to remember the almost 90 real, formerly live people in
our metro area who’ve died in violent acts so far this year. You’ll find the names of each of these
children of God next to the candles.
The innocent victims, the accidents, the
suicides, the people in the wrong place at the wrong time – those tragedies hit
us like a gut punch. But the truth is
that many of the almost 90 people we remember today played some role in their
own demise. If our Genesis story says
nothing else, it says that Satan or the power of evil isn’t solely to blame for
human suffering. Instead, in many instances
of violence, one choice after another conspires with the paucity of opportunity
and the availability of weaponry to end these blessed human lives. The causes of gun violence are indeed
multifactorial. But, as Sister Berta
Sailer used to say, the fact that you can buy a gun more easily than you can
buy a tomato in much of our city plays its own part in the tragedy.
So, the obvious question is, what can we
do about this?
Our Gospel reading this morning might
point us to some answers. First, we
rationally minded folks have to remember that Jesus and his world took Satan
and demons very seriously. The struggles
playing out on earth reflected a cosmic battle being waged between good and
evil, between God and not-God. So,
before today’s reading, Mark’s Gospel has told of several times when Jesus
confronted demons. And in those
confrontations, there’s no doubt who has the upper hand. The demons recognize his divine nature long
before his disciples do. The demons ask
Jesus, “Have you come to destroy us? [We] know who you are, the Holy One of
God” (1:24).
Jesus’ opponents share his world view, and
in today’s reading they acknowledge his power in casting out demons – but they
say he’s working for the other side. If
Jesus can cast out demons, the religious leaders say, he must be a middle
manager working with Satan himself. But
Jesus names the logical fallacy: How
could Satan’s power stand if demons cast out demons?
But with a quick parable, he slips in an
insight we might miss. Jesus says, “No
one can enter a strong man’s house and plunder his property without first tying
up the strong man; then, indeed, the house can be plundered” (3:27). Hmmm. So,
the power of evil can meet its match – but what is that competing power? And what would it look like for that power to
bind the strong man?
I hear an answer from Jesus at the end of
the Gospel reading. His family members
are trying to pull him back from trouble that’s rising, but Jesus doesn’t mind
the confrontation – in fact, he invites it. And he’s grateful for the crowd
standing with him to confront the strong man and bind his power. These are the people Jesus is counting as his
true family – “whoever does the will of God” (3:34).
And what is that – the will of God? Jesus names it a few chapters later, just
after Palm Sunday. Having ridden into
Jerusalem in triumph, he condemns the religious leaders who use their power to
advance their own interest. He boils
down the reign and rule of God to the core truth our hearts already know. The first commandment is this: Love God with everything you’ve got. And the second is this: “Love your neighbor as yourself. There is no other commandment greater than
these,” Jesus says (12:31). Doing
that is the will of God.
When we see broken people choosing to
follow powers that are not-God, and a broken society willing to write off some
lives as less valuable than others, then this is how we bind the strong
man: Love God and love neighbor the way
God empowers you to do it. In the case
of gun violence, listen for ways you could work for the well-being of
God’s children for whom violence is more common than opportunity.
How might we do that? Our first step is to turn to God in prayer –
not just for the almost 90 individuals killed in the cycle of violence so far
this year but for guidance in how the Holy Spirit specifically impassions and
empowers you to do “the will of God” in the world (Mark 3:35). That won’t look the same for each of us. Some of us come at it more from the supply
side and want fewer guns to be available.
Some of us come at it more from the demand side and want to change the
choices people make. Some of us see truth
on both sides – or might see reducing violence through a completely different
lens.
But wherever your passions and your
policies lie, act on them. Maybe
it’s voting specifically with the well-being of poorer communities in
mind. Maybe it’s empowering children by
reading to them at Gordon Parks or teaching them in the Banneker garden. Maybe it’s walking alongside a family through
Andie’s Pantry. Maybe it’s advocating to
public officials for policies and resources to build opportunity in poorer
communities. Maybe it’s taking a stand
in peaceful protest. Maybe it’s getting
involved in a nonprofit or a social enterprise.
Maybe it’s praying, as if lives depended on it, for individuals and
leaders to choose the way of Love. Wherever
you see steps toward solutions, take them.
What happens next in our community is not inevitable. It’s up to Jesus’ brothers and sisters, which is us. We can point fingers at others, saying they’re the ones to blame. We can shrug our shoulders and let the strong man have his way. Or, we can take a million small steps to empower our neighbors and choose God’s kingdom of peace. After all, love’s not just a feeling. Love is a verb. It’s one action after another that binds the strong man and sets God’s children free.
