What Have I Got to Lose?

Sermon for Oct. 13, 2024
Mark 10:17-31

If you were here last week, you know we celebrated the feast of St. Francis of Assisi.  We blessed pets, too, as a way to remember God’s love revealed in the created order and our responsibility to steward the creation God has entrusted to us.  By seeing the earth and the stars and the seas and the creatures as his siblings, St. Francis found spiritual rest knowing that what God provides is truly enough.

But St. Francis’ story is so rich that he’s also a great model of the spiritual practice we’re highlighting today in our “Love in Action” series.  It’s the practice of going: crossing boundaries, listening to the experience of others, and living like Jesus.  That may not be something we think about as a spiritual practice, like praying or reading Scripture or setting aside time to rest.  But when we make a practice of going along Jesus’ path, we find God’s blessings, even in the least likely places.

As a young man around the year 1200, Francis of Assisi was a spoiled brat, enjoying the wealth that came with being the son of a silk merchant in Italy.  But eventually he realized that partying with his friends wasn’t much of a calling.  So, Francis decided to go be a soldier … until he found that being taken prisoner was much less fun than parading around with shiny weapons. 

So, Francis returned to Assisi and began taking care of people who were sick or poor, forgotten by others.  He also heard God asking him to “repair the church,” and he took that literally, paying to rebuild Assisi’s crumbling church.  Unfortunately for his family relationships, he paid for that work by selling much of his father’s stock of fabrics.  As you might guess, his father wasn’t amused; and he disowned Francis – so, Francis disowned his father and the worldliness he represented.  The story is told that Francis came to the village square, stripped off his fancy clothes, and walked away.

And that’s where the story starts to get interesting.  Francis began wandering from village to village, caring for the people others rejected – the poor, the sick, the outcast.  As Jesus had instructed his disciples, Francis traveled with “no purse” (Luke 10:4) or any other means of support, living off the kindness of strangers.  He went to serve the people most in need and brought with him the love of God … as well as what came to be hundreds of others inspired by this ministry of going to people on the margins, meeting them where they were, and treating them as Jesus would.  It was the true meaning of the call Francis had heard years before to “repair the church” – helping it reclaim its identity as followers of Jesus going out to serve others.  And eventually, this movement that Francis hadn’t intended to start became the Franciscan monastic order.

Francis could follow that path not because of what he had but because of what he’d given up.  For him, the life of plenty had been a burden, holding him back from the love God was calling him to share.  Like the man in the Gospel reading today, Francis heard Jesus telling him that, in his abundance and his privilege, he actually lacked something vital: the freedom to go where God wanted to send him.  Paradoxically, his wealth and power held him back from taking part in the life Jesus wanted to give him, the life of following God’s reign and rule.  But once Francis released what held him back, he could go beyond the life his father had carved out for him, traveling light in the kingdom to live out God’s own love.

The point of the Gospel story we heard today is not that God doesn’t like rich people (although you do hear it preached that way sometimes).  In fact, with both Francis of Assisi and the man in the reading today, God embraces a person with wealth and loves him enough to try to set him free to go follow a different path.  In fact, this rich man in today’s reading is the only individual in Mark’s Gospel Jesus is said explicitly to love.¹  So, Francis of Assisi took Jesus up on the offer.  Unfortunately for the man in today’s reading, instead of going off toward the kingdom of heaven, he goes “away grieving, for he had many possessions” and was possessed by them all (10:22).

For us to follow the spiritual practice of going – of crossing boundaries, listening to others, and living like Jesus – we have to ask ourselves, “What burden is holding me back?”  I think the reason Jesus points to wealth in the story today, and why God led Francis to renounce his family’s wealth and power, is because what holds us back from going deeper with God is the fear of what we’ll lose.  You know, the reign and rule of God actually sounds pretty good, right? – unconditional love, eternal life, growing in relationship with God and the people around us.  But at what cost?  What will I lose if I go that direction?

Of course, Jesus’ answer is that you don’t lose; you gain – “a hundredfold now in this age … and in the age to come, eternal life” (Mark 10:30).  Now, those gains do include “persecutions,” Jesus says (10:30) – if you walk away from the crowd, they’ll sneer at you sometimes.  But to follow the spiritual practice of going, think about what you’re walking toward instead.  Here’s one example – from the chief of our Brew Crew, the baristas at HJ’s: Craig Lundgren. (Interview with Craig follows.)

1.      New Interpreter’s Study Bible, 1829 (note).

 

Equipping the Called

Sermon for Sept. 29, 2025 (kickoff of Stewardship Season)
Numbers 11:4-6,10-16,24-29; Mark 9:38-50

In today’s reading from Numbers, we hear about the complaining “rabble” that’s turned against Moses in the wilderness (11:4).  At least the way the Book of Numbers tells the story (which is different from the way Exodus tells the story), the people had crossed the Red Sea more than a year earlier.  Soon after, God began providing manna for the people out there in the desert – a “fine flaky substance” (Exodus 16:14) later described as the “bread of angels” (Psalms 78:25).  The people made cakes from it – ancient power bars – and they journeyed in the strength of that food for about 15 months.  Fifteen months.  Now, I don’t care how good something is, or how grateful you are for it, after 15 months of eating it – and only it – you’d go a little crazy.  

So, that’s what’s happening here, as the people’s frustration with the monotony of bread from heaven gets the best of them.  The people start complaining against Moses:  Sure, you liberated us from slavery, but what have you done for us lately?  “We remember the fish we used to eat in Egypt for nothing, the cucumbers, the melons, the leeks, the onions, the garlic; but now … there is nothing at all but” the bread of angels “to look at” (Numbers 11:6). 

So, imagine you’re one of the elders of the Israelites.  You’re as sick of manna as anybody else, so you join in complaining about Moses’ leadership.  But then, Moses calls the elders together, bringing you and 69 of your friends around the tent housing the Ark of the Covenant, the place where God comes to dwell among you.  And suddenly, the story says, “The Lord came down in the cloud and spoke to [Moses], and took some of the spirit that was on him and put it on the seventy elders; and when the spirit rested upon them, they prophesied” (Numbers 11:25).  So, yesterday, you were complaining about Moses.  Today, you find yourself on his leadership team.  And you’re thinking, “Wait a minute – I’m not cut out for this.  I didn’t go to God’s 40-day leadership retreat on Mt. Sinai like Moses did.  I’m just trying to move my family on to the Promised Land.  But now, God, you’re putting the same spirit on me that you put on Moses?  I never wanted to be a spiritual leader.”

Neither do most of us – including most of us God dragged off to seminary.  I think most of our Vestry members would say they’re not cut out to be spiritual leaders either.  But this year, we’ve been working on that.  As I told you in January, along with all the other things on the list for our commissions – offering inspiring worship, and replacing boilers, and empowering Outreach ministry, and putting on fellowship events – along with all that “regular” holy work, your Vestry this year is creating what we’re calling the Pilgrim’s Pathway to Heaven on Earth.  We’re assessing our offerings and realigning some of our ministries for better collaboration, and we’re creating a user’s guide for the spiritual journey.  And, along with that, your Vestry members are working on their own spiritual growth.  It may seem shocking, but we’re spending more time in Vestry meetings on that than we’re spending on financial statements or contract approvals.  All this is a work in progress, definitely.  But I think it’s the right work to be doing, helping leaders grow as disciples.  It’s also an example of collaboration:  If I can help put together fundraising campaigns and the annual budget, then Vestry members can take their share in the church’s spiritual leadership.

OK, now for a really radical thought:  It’s not just Vestry members whom God equips to be spiritual leaders.  It’s you, too.  So, what might that look like?

First, let’s think about what it doesn’t have to look like.  God equips some of us for more public roles – leading worship, being a parish warden, praying with others for healing, reading Scripture, leading music.  That kind of ministry may be what comes to mind when you think of spiritual leadership.  But just as important is the effect one person can have on another, drawing someone into deeper connection with God and the people around them.

You’ll get to hear about that over the next seven weeks in our preaching series about “Love in Action.”  Yes, that series will include sermons from us, but it will also feature interviews with people you know who bring God’s love alive day by day.  You’ll hear from Joy Bower about making time to rest.  You’ll hear from Craig Lundgren about going outside our comfort zones.  You’ll hear from Linda Brand about leading Pray at 8.  You’ll hear from Johnny Honnold about leading fellow acolytes in worship.  You’ll hear from Paul Johnson about learning God’s story of new life.  You’ll hear from Grace Coughlin about serving kids at the St. James Pantry.  And you’ll hear from Ann Rainey about listening for and then following the voice of God.  Now, my hunch is that none of those people would stand up and say, “Look at me; I’m a spiritual leader!”  But, as you’ll hear in their stories, that’s just what they are.

You’ll also find the opportunity this fall to go deeper with God and one another through our new fellowship groups, the St. Andrew’s Circles.  The idea here isn’t Bible study or intercessory prayer – we have other opportunities for that.  The point is just to get to know a few people you haven’t known so well before, learn their stories, and share your own.  You can still sign up today to be part of a St. Andrew’s Circle; just email the address in the bulletin or talk with one of us.

And we’ll get the chance this fall to connect with people and give back to God as we serve our neighbors.  Today at the parish picnic, we’ll pack hygiene bags for clients at Welcome House and two of our partner food pantries.  Then, in November, we’ll have two chances to serve alongside our friends at St. James Church, offering an early-Thanksgiving community dinner and providing holiday meal kits for families in need. 

Both connecting with people here and connecting with neighbors at St. James gives us a chance to put into action the love that Jesus is teaching today.  This is a tough Gospel reading this morning – it’s hard to know where Jesus is going in those verses about cutting off your hand or your foot.  But this reading is connected to what he was saying last Sunday, when the disciples were arguing about which of them was the greatest.  He told them, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all” (Mark 9:35).  And he put a little child among them – a symbol of powerlessness, the lowest status of anyone in that culture – to say, look, the people we’re called to seek out aren’t the powerful, the ones who bring us higher status, but the powerless, the folks who represent Jesus himself. 

Well, in today’s reading, he goes one step further.  The disciples are still hung up on their status, trying to shut down other healers who are using Jesus’ brand without paying the royalties. But Jesus puts his power to heal right out there in the public domain:  “Do not stop [them],” he says, “for no one who does a deed of power in my name will be able soon afterward to speak evil of me” (Mark 9:39).  In other words, doing the right thing in the spirit of Jesus is enough to lead someone to set their heart on his path.  Right action leads to right belief.  So, Jesus says, don’t criticize someone for doing the right thing for not entirely the right reason.  It’s a step on their journey. 

In fact, he tells the disciples, if you keep someone out because they aren’t as “in” as you are, you’ll be the one to suffer for it. So, if you’re tempted to keep the outsiders out, you’d be better off losing what means the most to you, rather than enduring the judgment that comes with exalting yourself over them.  The one you keep off “Team Jesus” may be yourself.

After all, you’re supposed to be the “salt of the earth,” Jesus tells his disciples elsewhere (Matthew 5:13), and he mentions it here, too.  That image of salt had not just a double meaning but a triple meaning back in the day.  Salt was a seasoning, of course, bringing a food’s flavor alive.  But salt was also valuable – so valuable that salt was a gift people brought to the temple as a thank-offering for God’s blessings.  And, salt was a preservative – really the only preservative in the Ancient Near East 2,000 years ago – so salt was a symbol of extending life and well-being far into the future.¹  In all these senses, those who follow Jesus are to be the salt in God’s kingdom – those who live life fully, those who offer themselves as living sacrifices, and those who bring to others the life that never ends.

This fall, we have the chance to be salt like that – making life rich and flavorful, offering our hearts to the One who made us, serving others from the well that never runs dry.  Sign up to be part of a St. Andrew’s Circle and build a relationship you never expected.  Come on Sundays and hear people tell their stories about offering themselves to God day by day.  And serve at St. James, connecting with our parishioners and theirs as we offer a foretaste of the heavenly banquet one slice of turkey at a time. 

When we put ourselves out there as salt for God’s kingdom – when we add the flavor of Love to life, when we offer ourselves in gratitude, when we share the hope of life that never ends – we become the last thing we ever imagined: spiritual leaders helping others go just that much deeper in their own experience of God.  Thankfully, we don’t have to rely on ourselves to do that; we can trust the Spirit to supply the power to make it happen.  Because, as countless pastors and writers have said before me, God doesn’t call the equipped.  God equips the called – including you.

1.      HarperCollins Study Bible. New York: HarperCollins, 1993. 1936 (note).