A Sermon by Pastor Tom Lacey . . .
stepping up to your cross
Mark 8:33-38, Preached at Congregational Church of Boca Raton, March 1, 2009
The following is taken from a Florida newspaper: A man was working on his motorcycle on his patio and his wife was in the house in the kitchen. The man was racing the engine on the motorcycle and somehow, the motorcycle slipped into gear. The man, still holding the handlebars, was dragged through a glass patio door and the motorcycle dumped onto the floor inside the house. The wife, hearing the crash, ran into the dining room, and found her husband lying on the floor, cut and bleeding, the motorcycle lying next to him and the patio door shattered. The wife ran to the phone and called an ambulance. Because they lived on a fairly large hill, the wife went down the several flights of long steps to the street to direct the paramedics to her husband. After the ambulance arrived and transported the husband to the hospital, the wife stood up the motorcycle and pushed it outside. Seeing that gas had spilled on the floor, the wife obtained some paper towels, blotted up the gasoline, and threw the towels in the toilet. The husband was treated at the hospital and was released to come home. After arriving home, he looked at the shattered patio door and the damage done to his motorcycle. He became despondent, went into the bathroom, sat on the toilet and smoked a cigarette. After finishing the cigarette, he flipped it between his legs into the toilet bowl while still seated. The wife, who was in the kitchen, heard a loud explosion and her husband screaming. She ran into the bathroom and found her husband lying on the floor. His trousers had been blown away and he was suffering burns on the buttocks, the back of his legs and his groin. The wife again ran to the phone and called for an ambulance. The same ambulance crew was dispatched and his wife met them at the street. The paramedics loaded the husband on the stretcher and began carrying him to the street. While they were going down the stairs to the street accompanied by the wife, one of the paramedics asked the wife how the husband had burned himself. She told them and the paramedics started laughing so hard, one of them tipped the stretcher and dumped the husband out. He fell down the remaining steps and broke his ankle. So, "Is your day as bad as you think?"
Several folks in this congregation, especially Bonnie Tust, like to say, “It could be worse.” When things are bad, it is often helpful to remind oneself there might just be something worse. There might be a bigger, and even more rugged cross to bear than the one you’re shouldering right now. Considering things from this view might just turn one’s heart around to see how good things are instead. Another way of looking at life is to see a silver lining in the gathered clouds. Learn something from what has gone wrong. Focus on what you’ve gained even though you may have lost as well. If we don’t expect things to always stay the same, then when they don’t we will be ready to meet the new and different with a more positive attitude.
The truth is that when Jesus said the words: “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me,” he might as well have said, “If any want to become my followers, let them be prepared to be led out to public execution.” Jesus knew capital punishment was his fate. Christ would literally carry his cross, or at least the cross beam, as he walked, stumbled and bled his way to Calvary. He knew his followers would also meet their fate on the cross, or if not the cross then perhaps by sword or beast, fire or arrow, or by some still other harsh capital means. And so to the ears of the first hearers of this Gospel, Jesus’ question certainly rung true; truly it rung in their ears as they stood condemned, praying for strength to meet their fate, and like their Lord and Savior carry their cross to the last. Just to give you some idea of what era this was, the Gospel of Mark was written for those who were enduring savage persecution under Emperor Nero after the great fire in Rome of C.E. 64. It would have been reassuring to these men and women to remember that Jesus himself had said this was to be expected by his disciples. And more than this, by sharing in his suffering, they too would share in his glory. Even if we don’t have those crosses to bear, we still all have crosses to bear. Now this may sound a little strange but don’t begrudge yours. Make the most of it, and the most of yourself because of it. You are bigger than the cross you carry. And even if you aren’t, the Lord certainly is. There is life after the cross after all.
The season of Lent started last Wednesday with Ash Wednesday, and will continue until Holy Saturday, the day before Easter. There’s a church that’s publicizing on its front lawn “Fish Suppers” Wednesday and Friday nights. I didn’t read the fine print but I imagine these are available during Lent. Denying oneself meat, on Fridays may have proved a more demanding Lenten regimen thirty years ago when fish wasn’t so much a part of the American diet, but times have changed. Perhaps these days in order to make a truer sacrifice, perhaps we should deny ourselves fish and eat red meat instead. During Lent, these 40 days or so, Christians have traditionally been moved to give up something in order to journey spiritually with Jesus to Good Friday and his Cross. Candy, cursing, and complaining are probably the top three choices. Another approach has emphasized adding rather than subtracting from your life. Instead of taking away something that perhaps isn’t so good, we prefer now to add something that we know is good, such as reading the Bible, going to Bible studies, praying, working at a soup kitchen or volunteering time in other ways. There are other ways to deny oneself that I think are important. We can do this in our personal relationships. It would be wonderful to chart a new course starting this Lent for our most important relationships. If you get angry easily, or envious, or are full of pride and have a tough time saying sorry, now is the time to try to grow spiritually. If you need an example, let me give you one. A husband and wife were involved in a petty argument (this is the anger part), both of them unwilling to admit they might be in error (and the pride part). "I'll admit I'm wrong," the wife told her husband in a conciliatory attempt, "if you'll admit I'm right." He agreed and, like a gentleman, insisted she go first. "I'm wrong," she said. With a twinkle in his eye, he responded, "You're right!" See how well that worked out.
Honestly, and seriously now, to deny one's self does not really mean to give up chocolate or coffee for Lent. To deny one's self means to put the other first, our loved ones included. To deny one's self means to put our own agendas and our own desires aside, to the joy of those closest to us. To deny one's self means to look for God and do one's best to follow God's will in our lives, so that we may be God’s hands for others, for those in need. Denying ourselves does cost something. It costs us our old self, and our old way of doing things. To deny yourself for Christ and for others is not the end of things, but the beginning of a new way of the Spirit.
The time was February of 1976. The Roman Catholic priest was appointed to be the Archbishop of the country by the ruling class of fourteen families. He was not appointed because he was a great preacher. He was not appointed because he was great spiritual leader. He was appointed by these families because they believed he would not make waves. He was thought of as a solid, doctrinal priest. He would hold the status quo. The status quo was determined by these fourteen leading and ruling families. The military and the police worked for them. Anything or anybody that threatened their system was removed and removed hard. The archbishop ran headlong into these fourteen families. At first, he did not know what was happening. Then one day his best friend, a fellow priest, was assassinated on his way to say Mass. His friend was organizing the people to protest their living and working conditions. As a result of the death of his friend, the archbishop began moving among the people. He found out that his people were oppressed economically and physically. He would be arrested. He would be beaten. He would even be thrown out of a church by the police.
In March of 1980, he called on the members of the military and
the police to treat the people with respect and dignity. He called on their
common humanity and their common religious beliefs to stop the oppression. As a
result on March 24, 1980, Archbishop Oscar Romero of
Our cross is probably not as well defined as Archbishop Romero's. He was truly confronted with the needs of an oppressed people. The path was well defined and the end of his life could almost be predicted. But we are called to be Christ's disciple right where we are. Today. Now. The call is to deny ourselves, to carry our crosses, to follow Jesus, and let our new life begin.
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