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Sermon
2nd Sunday in Lent,
March 8, 2009 (Year B)
Take up your cross
The Rev. Robert B. Wood, St. Aidan’s Episcopal Church, Alpharetta,
Georgia
Sometimes the sayings of Jesus are
easy, comforting, welcoming—like, “Take my yoke upon you, and
learn from me, for my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” We
hear that and say, “We can get on board with that, Jesus. You’ll
be there as a side-by-side companion to make the daily grind
easier. Thank you. That’s good. We need your help. Life is hard.
On the other hand, we have today’s invitation—“If any want to
become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their
cross and follow me.” Not as easy, not as comforting, not as
welcoming. This invitation almost seems to make life harder.
We do prefer the cushy Jesus, don’t we? Carrying a cross is a
burden—and we’ve got enough of those already. The cross means
death. It’s humiliating enough to die a public death—but the
toilsome walk to crucifixion, which we don’t even do any more,
so don’t understand so clearly. We hear that invitation and are
tempted to say, “No thanks.” Try recruiting followers another
way, okay?
Maybe Jesus got that feedback because he does not repeat that
particular recruiting slogan again. Actually, the cross itself
is not mentioned again in Mark’s gospel until Jesus himself is
carrying one, hanging on one. That all goes to show that Jesus
knew that his teaching and healing throughout Galilee and Judea
put him on a collision course with the religious and political
leaders of his day.
There would be no promotion up the ranks of Temple hierarchy—not
for him, not for the disciples. No gaining of the whole
world…but instead, the forfeiting of one’s life, his life.
Humility. Self-denial. Those things that monks, nuns, and
priests are supposed to do, right. Yes, and others. All
followers have to respond to this slogan, and ask themselves,
“Will I take up this cross, deny myself, but in the end gain my
life?”
I’ve carried some heavy things in my life—but maybe nothing as
physically challenging as carrying a canoe in between beautiful
lakes in the back, back woods of Minnesota one summer on a scout
trip. It’s called portaging. Where one lake ends before another
one begins, and paddlers have to take the canoe across the land
by foot. I was 14 or 15, and at one point it was a ½ mile from
one lake to the other. There was a walking trail, and on this
lengthy trail, there was even a canoe rest—a log hung
horizontally between two trees half way along the trail. I was
struggling, sweating, and cussing most likely…the canoe on my
shoulders, upside down. My legs were getting wobbly, my
shoulders burning. With a last bit of strength, I had to tilt
the front end of the canoe up so it could sit on top of the
rest…one step, two steps…and then thud, I’d made it. Half way.
After some rest, I had another 1/4 mile to go.
That canoe-carrying was a physical challenge. What about the
spiritual challenges that we have to carry? Are not those
spiritual challenges that burn our hearts and make our faith
wobbly, the things that Jesus is talking about when he teaches
his disciples and the crowds about taking up their cross and
following him?
Did he really, literally, mean cross…like join my on Calvary? Or
did he mean something more symbolic like, “Take up doubt and
follow me.” Peter had just doubted Jesus teaching about being
persecuted and killed and rising again…and called out
Jesus…saying, “don’t think like that.” Not Jerusalem and
death…maybe Jerusalem and strength! We can be powerful. With
what you can do, we’ll take Jerusalem by storm. Bring a new wave
of spirituality and godliness!
That hope of ruling Jerusalem sounds only a bit different from
what Satan himself had said to Jesus about Jerusalem…that he
would give it to him if Jesus would only follow Satan. Jesus was
not interested in leading Jerusalem like earthly kings or
governors had done. Jesus wanted to lead a line of followers on
their walk to God. A walk that meant denying human pride…denying
that pride to actually gain a new life. The life God wanted for
him…not the life others wanted for him.
Carrying that cross was probably the most difficult thing Jesus
had to do in his faithful walk with God. Maybe it was his
portage in that earthly wilderness, something he had to struggle
with to get himself from the lake of teaching and healing to the
greater waters of heaven. To face death and pain…to die for
someone…or something…knowingly.
Some Christians have done a similar thing…early martyrs who died
in the Roman Coliseum. Others in our time, like Dietrich
Bonhoffer, who died after his plot to kill Hitler was
discovered. Or some bishops in Africa or Latin America who are
gunned down by their governments for standing up to injustice
and corruption. Not much of that in the USA…thankfully.
But what then for us? Few will be called upon to put their life
on the line in those ways. Yet we each still have a cross to
bear. What is it…symbolically speaking. You may discover what
that cross is by asking a question like, “What is the most
difficult thing about being a Christian for you? What is the
most difficult thing about denying yourself and following Jesus?
Maybe, like Peter, your cross is doubt. You doubt that Jesus had
to die to be the Messiah. Or maybe you doubt that peacemakers
will be blessed…that prodigals will be welcomed home…that Jesus
walked on water or through a wall to breathe on his disciples
and say, “Receive the holy spirit.”
So you doubt—instead trusting in your self-assured intellect. If
you doubt, pick it up, and walk with it. If you were to do the
opposite…to let intellectual doubt rule you…to sidetrack you
from following…to keep you altogether from following…your walk
with Jesus would end.
No. Take up your doubt…don’t deny it…take it up…put it on the
cross and offer yourself to Jesus anyway. Deny that piece of
yourself too—deny that voice in you that says my intellect is so
good, and since I can’t figure this out, there must not be a
right answer.” Maybe even talk to Jesus about it in a prayer,
saying, “Peter doubted in his way…Thomas doubted you in his.
However, you did not condemn them for their doubt…but instead
loved them into following you. And as they followed, they
learned. Jesus…love me despite my doubts.
Maybe the hardest thing about being a Christian for you-- your
cross-- is anger. You get angry with God because you don’t
understand how a loving God could allow cancer or murder. Maybe
you are angry at someone else because they hurt you, betrayed
you, rejected you. That anger, whatever it is has become a
block. Take it up, and as you walk with Jesus, you’ll find that
you learn from him about mercy. Something that you would not
have learned if you’d not denied that piece of yourself, taken
up that cross, and followed Jesus. Take up your cross and follow
me, says the Lord. Deny yourself—so that you gain new life. Not
just new perspective, but new life.
Maybe after today you hear that as take up your grief and follow
me…or take up your luke-warm faith and follow me…or take up your
greed or your pride or your anxiety or your powerlessness.
You may struggle with them on the way…have your own portage over
the dry places in life…have your shoulders ache with them, your
knees wobble, but you will also learn something about yourself
and about Jesus.
If you take those things up and follow Jesus…you will learn
(first) to deal with them…that God will help you to deal with
them…if you address them, lift up your situation to him, and
humble yourself. Second, you will learn the value of following,
and not trying to lead…of not telling Jesus that you, like
Satan, have a better answer, a better plan.
Take up your cross…your biggest spiritual obstacle…and go on the
journey with Jesus. If you don’t, your stuck in this world,
forfeiting your life. If you don’t, you’re stuck in this world,
forfeiting your life. If you do take up that cross and make that
journey with Jesus, you’ll find your mind set more and more on
divine things…more able to make those portages and put earthly
things in perspective and learn to trust God’s plan.
You may even find a lovingly place, thoughtfully made rest stop
along the way, somewhere to rest your burden for a bit, like in
church or in quiet time: that place where Jesus says, “I know
the journey is difficult at times; rest and gather your strength
here. Just stay with the journey. Take your cross back up and
follow me. It’s worth it.”
© Fr. Robert B. Wood. All Rights
reserved.
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