OK...I almost didn't post this because it didn't turn out as polished as I'd've (bonus points for a double contraction, right?) liked. However, since it was good enough to preach it was good enough to post.
It would soon be a bright, sunshiny morning on the African planes. Simba, who was still little more than a fluffy fur ball was up before the sun. Like all good cubs, it is no fun to be up all-alone, so he bounced around a bit before finding his kingly father fast asleep in their palatial cave. He ran toward Mufassa, and with the precision of a bowling ball picking up a 6-10 split, he crashed into his father waking him from his sound slumber.
Begging him to keep his promise, Simba finally drags his father out of bed. They begin their journey in the early dawn hours, while the birds sing announcing the arrival of the majestic sunrise. They follow the narrow trail that leads to the top of a nearby rock outcropping and venture dangerously close to the edge. It is there that father and son sit together, watching the sunrise while gazing across their expansive domain. The scene is vividly surreal. Broad swatches of color paint the early morning sunrise as Mufassa explains to Simba that everything the sun touches will one day be his kingdom.
It had been a long and tough stretch for Jesus and His disciples. They found themselves in a village on the outskirts of Caesarea Philippi. Now Caesarea Philippi was a town in the foothills near Mount Hermon. The view to the south stretches panoramically across Galilee toward Jerusalem. It is here that Jesus chooses to sit with his disciples, dangerously close the edge of the future, and gaze toward the horizon. As they cast their eyes they looked out upon Galilee, the land of Jesus’ miracles and ministry: casting out demons, healing diseases, preaching, the feeding of thousands with little more than bread and fish. As they reflect on Jesus’ ministry, He wonders if they have learned anything yet. He asks them about His true identity.
Like the view, the conversation does not stop in Galilee. There, way out against the horizon is Jerusalem. It seems so far away, and yet Jesus knows that it is far closer than it appears. As their gaze moves from Galilee to Jerusalem, so does their conversation. It is a conversation we simply must hear for ourselves. The scene is vividly surreal, and Mark captures it elegantly in his Gospel 8:27-38. Would you stand with me for the reading of God’s Word: Mark 8:27-38.
27Jesus and his disciples left Galilee and went up to the villages of Caesarea Philippi. As they were walking along, he asked them, "Who do people say I am?"
28"Well," they replied, "some say John the Baptist, some say Elijah, and others say you are one of the other prophets."
29Then Jesus asked, "Who do you say I am?"
Peter replied, "You are the Messiah." 30But Jesus warned them not to tell anyone about him.
31Then Jesus began to tell them that he, the Son of Man, would suffer many terrible things and be rejected by the leaders, the leading priests, and the teachers of religious law. He would be killed, and three days later he would rise again. 32As he talked about this openly with his disciples, Peter took him aside and told him he shouldn't say things like that.[b]
33Jesus turned and looked at his disciples and then said to Peter very sternly, "Get away from me, Satan! You are seeing things merely from a human point of view, not from God's."
34Then he called his disciples and the crowds to come over and listen. "If any of you wants to be my follower," he told them, "you must put aside your selfish ambition, shoulder your cross, and follow me. 35If you try to keep your life for yourself, you will lose it. But if you give up your life for my sake and for the sake of the Good News, you will find true life. 36And how do you benefit if you gain the whole world but lose your own soul[c] in the process? 37Is anything worth more than your soul? 38If a person is ashamed of me and my message in these adulterous and sinful days, I, the Son of Man, will be ashamed of that person when I return in the glory of my Father with the holy angels."
“Give me a lever long enough and I can move the world,” or so the saying goes. At the center of every good lever is a fulcrum. In a diagram, it is the triangle right in the middle. On an old fashioned scale, it is the chain in the middle of the bar. On a teeter-totter, it is the bar in the middle of the plank. In the Gospel of Mark, it is 8:27-38. All of Jesus ministry has built up to this point.
Up until now, Jesus has done some teaching, but mostly has preformed miracles. For the most part, He let his actions speak. Did the disciples hear? He puts them to the test. “Who have you heard that I am?” he asks. He gets several responses. Mostly people seem to think that he is a very important person. Perhaps he is a great teacher, or even a great prophet. The people put him in very elite company: Elijah and John the Baptist are both tremendous heroes. But Jesus is far more concerned with who his close friends think he is. As they all sit there together, looking out across the land, Peter, in one of his most brilliant moments, suggests that Jesus is the Messiah.
“Woo-whoo!” “The Messiah!” “Finally!” Today, we cannot even begin to imagine the elation the Twelve must have felt. To understand their eruption of joy we must realize the situation that the people of Israel found themselves in time and time again. From the very beginning, they were promised to be a great nation. They were promised to be the people of the ONE TRUE GOD. Yet, despite being chosen, they repeatedly found themselves taken into slavery…taken into exile. Even when they were not enslaved or exiled, they were always overshadowed by more powerful nations. Every Jewish child grew up dreaming of the day when the Messiah would come. He would gather all Israel together. He would unite Israel and lead her into battle. They would conquer all of their enemies. They would finally be free forever from the oppressive dark cloud that seemed to follow them wherever they would go. All of the world would bow before the feet of their God. Now the Messiah had come! Gone were their days of trial and tribulation. Gone were the days of ridicule. Gone were the days of playing second fiddle. The Messiah was here.
What is more, if Jesus was the Messiah, then what would that make the Disciples? An almost sinister smirk adorned the faces of the twelve. It was almost too good to be true! No…wait…it was too good to be true. All this talk of the Messiah had them all so excited. They were so beside themselves that they were not prepared for what came next. “I am the Messiah, but…” O how we hate to hear that little word, “but.” “I am the Messiah, but,” Jesus said, “I am about to undergo a great amount of suffering.” “I am the Messiah, but the rulers and the leaders will reject me.” “I am the Messiah, but I am going to be killed.” By this time, their exuberant joy and turned to unbearable sadness, anger and confusion.
How can this be? How can the Messiah die? How can the Messiah suffer and be rejected? The Messiah is a great leader: charismatic, visionary, strong. General George Patton would have cowered in the shadow of the Messiah. He was going to lead Israel into the land of bright promise. He was going to finally be their deliverer. But he is going to be rejected, suffer and die. They went from ecstasy to despair. From the highest possible high, to the lowest possible low…or so they thought.
Peter had had enough. He was going to put a stop to this crazy talk, and in one of Peter’s most bone-headed moments, he rebuked Jesus. Jesus would not stand for it and told Peter to fall back into line. He turned to address the whole group. Just as Jesus began to speak, they realized what he was about to say. The thoughts popped into their minds, just as the words popped out of Jesus’ mouth. Just when they thought it could not get any worse, it did.
“Jesus is the Messiah…he is going to be rejected, suffer and die. We are the Messiah’s disciples. Will less happen to us?” Just as they thought it, Jesus said it. “If any wants to follow me, then take up your cross and follow.” “I have to die. So must you.” Jesus words have reverberated in the hearts and minds of his followers ever since.
Today, we stand shoulder to shoulder with those early disciples. Not so much shocked that Jesus must die, but we are still shocked and confused about what it means to take up our cross. For those early Christians, following Christ frequently meant experiencing physical death. There are places in the world today where following Christ still means taking a bullet, hanging, being beaten or burned. But how do we, here in America make sense out of this pivotal teaching?
“If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will loose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.”
This passage is pivotal because for the first time we are told who Jesus is, what he must do. He is the Messiah; he must die. We are also told for the first time who we are to be, and what we are to do. We are to be followers; we too must take up our cross. But what does it mean to take up our cross? Often we hear that we must take up our cross, and we associate it with a burden we have been given. In my semester working as a hospital chaplain, I heard this understanding more than once. “Chaplain, I don’t know why God has given me this cross to bear.” “Reverend, I hate having to go through all these procedures, but it is the cross I must bear.” Understanding our cross as something that we are forced to endure is a woefully inadequate understanding of a life of discipleship. It is certainly tragic that we must deal with these types of things, and it certainly requires a great deal of strength and faith to endure them well, but this is not what Christ is talking about here. Christ chose to go to the cross. He could have walked away and not endured it if he so desired. Christ voluntarily picked up his cross. We too are asked to pick up our cross. The question is not how we will carry a cross we have been given, but rather if we will choose to take up our cross.
Others understand the cross to be something we must choose to pick up. They also understand the connection between the cross and death, so they choose to live an ascetic life, i.e. a life marked by suffering. It may be giving up some convenience, like the television. It might be something more substantial like giving up food regularly, living without technology or electricity, or it perhaps it is choosing to live a celibate life. Many have forsaken the things of this world to live a solitary life with no conveniences so they can live closer to God. This is much closer in understanding, but it too falls far short of Jesus command to take up our cross and follow.
Taking up the cross, being a disciple seems to best be explained in Jesus’ reply Peter’s rebuke. He responds, “Get behind me…” One author noted Jesus was really saying, “get back in line.” Peter was out of line. He was not being a good follower. How can one follow if one is not behind? Peter was trying to lead…not be led. Jesus’ response was not so much a condemnation as it was a correction. It was a call to discipleship. It is a call to us all. “Get behind me” is simply a more forceful call to follow. It is a quick, clear, concise corrective.
Jesus goes on to explain his response. In this brief explanation of discipleship, Jesus also explains what it is to take up our cross. “You are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.” Peter’s problem was that he was still looking at life through human eyes, not through Christ’s eyes. Peter still was thinking based on his understanding and his plan for Messiah, not God’s understanding and God's plan for Messiah. To take up one’s cross is not to bear something we have been given; it is not to give up what we have or what we want; it is to give up who we are.
We are no longer our own, we are Christ’s. Our ways are surrendered to His ways. Our stuff is His stuff. We are Christ’s. All we have…all we are…is Christ’s. That is our cross. That is the death we must choose. This is a tough calling. As long as we are our own, we can pick and choose what we give. As long as our stuff is our stuff, we can choose how much we give. When we choose to put our very life to death, it is resurrected, a new creation, and it is all God’s.
Baptism captures this life of discipleship perfectly. This is why it is so important we take the sacrament of Baptism seriously. The historic baptismal ritual is so rich and vivid. When we enter the waters of baptism, we enter the very mouth of death. Our life is being given; we are taking our cross. “I am crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live.” As we are brought up out of the water, we are resurrected, new creations. We are no longer ours, but we are God’s. All of us is God’s: our life, our future, our hopes, our dreams, our wealth, our cares. We retain no control. We are God’s. “I am crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live. But it is Christ who lives in me.” To make sure we understand exactly who we are, we are anointed with the oil of the Spirit. We are marked as God’s. We have the seal of God placed upon our head and upon our life. There is no mistaking whose we are. Historically, we are even given a new name at our baptism. I am no longer Eric; I am God’s child. I am a new person with a new identity. “I am crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live. But it is Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and game himself for me.”
Baptism happens to us only once, but it is something we must daily choose to embrace. That is why if you attend a church that practices this historic pattern of baptism you will likely see Holy Water. People dip their finger in it and make the sign of the cross. It is a embracing of their baptism; a re-marking of their life. They are taking up their cross. A life of discipleship is a life of daily embracing who we are and whose we are. It is a life of daily death and resurrection. It is a daily choice to live life not as if it were Eric’s, but as my life is God’s.
To follow Christ to death may have different consequences for each of us. For some it may mean physical death. For some of us it may mean a life full of great blessings. For all of us it means falling in line behind Christ who is our leader and our head. For all of us it means daily embracing our baptism. For all of us it means daily choosing to keep making my mind, even my very life, even my very identity in Christ.
Our responsive hymn is Where He Leads Me: #489 in Sing to the Lord. Who are you today? Are you the Peter that sees Christ for who He is and is willing to follow, or the Peter that needs to get back in line? Being in line, following is not always an easy place to be. None of us know where our God is leading. None of us know what each new day may bring. Make this song your prayer and give Him everything.
Perhaps this morning you are a follower on the way. We praise the Lord with you as we pray this song together. Perhaps you, like Peter, have chosen to follow, but Christ seems to be leading in a direction you are not sure you want to go. We pray this song with you as you recommit to following. Perhaps you have never embraced the call to follow before. You have heard it so many times before, or maybe today you are hearing it for the very first time. All this talk about crosses and death is a little intimidating. You know you should respond, but you do not know if you want to. We pray this song with you as you submit to following Christ.
No matter where you are this morning there is grace to be found in Christ Jesus our Lord. He has already died; He has already risen; He will be coming again to gather those who follow. The Good News this morning is that for those who follow Christ, the Cross is not a means of death, but rather a means of life! To the glory of God: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.