Ordinary Faith: Humility

Sermon for The Sixth Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 9

Saint Peter's | Arlington, VA

2 Corinthians 12:2-10; Mark 6:1-13

This morning, we continue the narrative of the gospel according to Mark. Over these recent weeks, our lessons have methodically begun to paint a vibrant picture of the identity and mission of Jesus...

And its significance is first made evident to those on the receiving end of his healing touch—the handful of people afflicted by various ailments and unclean spirits, who have an encounter and are then cured. Slowly though, word ripples outward and the sphere of influence begins to expand. So, naturally, more and more people come to hear and to receive the good news Jesus freely shares.

There are many different kinds of people, who in catching a slight glimpse of Jesus, immediately recognize who he is: the paralytics and lepers along with both social elites and social outcasts—and even demons know him! Quite comically, to hear how Mark tells it, the unclean spirits who’ve just been cast out confess “You are the Son of God!”—long before his followers get around to it... For whatever reason, the disciples struggle in their ability to see. Because of this, the words Jesus shares with those closest to him are some variation of “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?,” and “Do not fear, only believe.”

Before very long a “great multitude” of people have now been enveloped into the transformation Jesus initiates. But it is not so with everyone...

After traveling from one village to the next, sharing good news with each, Jesus returns home. Back to his roots. And there, in spite of the power he embodies, he is rejected. What is accomplished is greatly limited because the people lack faith. So much so that Jesus is dismayed—and the building momentum of his mission grinds to a sudden halt.

Through all of the proceeding miracles, Mark methodically establishes that Jesus holds authority over God’s law, over the natural world, and over the spiritual realm... And yet, in Nazareth, his power is contained.

For as puzzling as it this would seem to be, it is not so different from our own lives...

To back up just a bit... Our faith claims that God first creates, calls creation good (or even “very good”), and then bestows upon all created things the vitality of life. God desires that we experience the fulness of life and within it know the completeness of joy.

However, as we know, both in the origin story of our faith as well as in the reality of our lives, the invitation to abide in a garden of goodness is so-often spurned. Just how often do we choose the comfort of familiar half-truths and mediocrity over the thing for which we were created? Over the thing God’s Spirit continually seeks to return and lead us into?

Now, I will admit, for myself, it is more times than I can imagine (or honestly care to)—even within a single day.

Sometimes, like the people of Nazareth, it is simply more convenient to question or contain the power of God’s presence. At times, I’d rather prefer to preserve the luxury of engaging according to my own terms and timeline. Instead of an encounter with good news that would surely upend my world, not to mention my schedule of appointments, “faith” can function more like a transactional exchange.

At one point or another, I think we’ve all been here. Rather than surrounding ourselves with the loving care of a good God, this kind of “faith” is more like a relationship with some kind of a cosmic jukebox. We deposit a few faith tokens and then conjure up the playlist of carefully curated hits—maybe a pleasant rain-free day that ends with a lovely sunset, or a quick recovery for our aunt, or perhaps a divine insight that somehow manages to perfectly affirm our political hot take of the week. If we’re honest, we’d really like to have a “play” button to summon an all-powerful God—and, perhaps even more so, a button to press “pause.”

Unfortunately though, things rarely correspond to our terms—because our ways are so-often not God’s ways. Which, in the big picture, is quite fortunate for us—and even more so for all those we’ve deemed our enemies. Its difficult to even call this faith—and yet God still meets us there anywhere. As the Apostle Paul writes, even in our weakness the power of God continues, and is even made perfect.

The abundant goodness God desires for us is made relentlessly available to us—but it will not be forcefully imposed. A response of our own free-will is required. Far from inconsequential, our participation in all God seeks to do in the world matters a great deal.

Fortunately, after this momentary pause in the ministry of Jesus, the narrative of the gospel continues. In an act of radical trust, the disciples are sent out, and faithfully walking in the way Christ, the good news continues to ripple its way into more and more lives. More people are cured, healed, transformed—including ourselves this morning.

May we continue to humbly receive this grace ourselves, that in being transformed by God we might in turn be sent out to offer it to others.

Amen