Sermon on Mark 10:46-52

Jennifer Garcia

Today’s story comes after a couple of stories about people not getting Jesus.

First, there’s the man who came to Jesus to ask what he could “do” to “gain” eternal life. And Jesus tells him to sell all his possessions, give the money to the poor, and follow him. And the man leaves, saddened, because he had a lot of stuff.

What he didn’t get was that it wasn’t about “doing” something to “gain” eternal life. It was about letting go of what was separating him from his neighbors. He was letting his possessions get in between him and being a part of the amazing, upside-down Reign of God that Jesus was inviting him into.

Then, some of Jesus’ disciples ask Jesus if they can sit next to him in places of honor in the fulfillment of the Reign of God.

What they don’t get is that following Jesus isn’t about glory or honor, but about the last being first and the first being last, which is what Jesus told them after their encounter with the rich man in the previous story.

Then, in this story, the disciples and the crowds following Jesus try to get Bartimaeus to be quiet, to stop asking Jesus for mercy. It’s like they’re embarrassed that someone would be so persistent in seeking Jesus’ attention. Especially when that person has a disability and is impoverished.

What they don’t get is that Bartimaeus is exactly the sort of person Jesus wants to pay attention to.

It’s people on the margins that Jesus pays the most attention to—people the world has forgotten, people the world tries to ignore and silence.

People like Bartimaeus.

Bartimaeus, who doesn’t rest until he’s gotten Jesus’ attention. He shouts and shouts, not caring if he makes a fool of himself, not caring what the people around him think. Jesus is the only one who matters to him.

Bartimaeus, who throws off his cloak to chase Jesus down. He casts aside one of his few and most important possessions because Jesus asks to talk with him. He doesn’t cling to his belongings like the rich man did.

Bartimaeus, who when Jesus asks him what he wants, does not ask for greatness or riches. He doesn’t seek honor when Jesus comes into his glory, like the disciples James and John did.

Bartimaeus, who after getting what he asked for, doesn’t politely thank Jesus and go on his way. No, he follows Jesus “on the way.” Yes, in a literal sense, it means he got up and followed Jesus on the road he was traveling on, but in a metaphorical sense, “The Way” was one of the terms the early church used to describe following Jesus. Bartimaeus understood that his conversation with Jesus was an invitation to discipleship.

Bartimaeus persisted in seeking Jesus’ attention, released his possessions, did not seek honor or glory, and got up and followed Jesus.

Bartimaeus is the ideal example of the behavior Jesus asked of the people in the previous stories.

Bartimaeus gets Jesus in a way the others didn’t.

We don’t always get Jesus today.

Sometimes we expect to find Jesus in the most beautiful sanctuaries.

Or the churches with the best worship music, or the flashiest youth programs, or the best-attended Bible studies.

Sometimes we expect to find Jesus in places where we’re comfortable, where we won’t be surprised or stretched.

And, of course, Jesus is there, because Jesus is everywhere. There is nowhere Jesus isn’t. After all, Jesus, the Word of God, “was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being.” Jesus created everywhere and is everywhere.

But in today’s story we see that Jesus pays special attention to people at the margins. People who are ignored, silenced, and marginalized by society because of their disability or race or gender identity or sexual orientation or sexual history or class or age or whatever reason society is uncomfortable with them. People like Bartimaeus.

People, perhaps, like you.

People, perhaps, like your neighbor.

People, perhaps, on the streets of Fullerton, or in your workplaces, or here at church.

Jesus stops, invites, and listens. He asks, “What do you want me to do for you?”

He gives marginalized people a voice, gives them agency in inviting them to name their needs, desires, and hopes.

So, what is it that you want Jesus to do for you?

What is it that you need?

How can you make your voice heard?

What is it that your neighbor wants Jesus to do for them?

What is it that they need?

How can we listen well to our neighbors’ voices?

Jesus, our Savior, was born, and lived, and died, and rose again so that no one would ever be separated from God. Because of him, no one is alone; no one is unloved or unvalued.

You, you are worth everything to God. Jesus loves you exactly as you are, and not only has given up everything, but would give up everything again for your sake, because he loves you.

And yet, our world still labels people as unlovable and unworthy.

That’s why Jesus still stands in the margins, asking people what he can do for them.

And that’s where we belong, too, whether the world puts us there or not.

Because following Jesus means being where he is.

Following Jesus means loving the people he loves, which is everybody, including the people the world wants to ignore and the people the world “sternly order[s] to be quiet.”

Let’s not be quiet any longer. Whether we are advocating for our own needs or the needs of our neighbors, let us shout out, “Jesus, Son of David, has mercy on us! Let the world have mercy, too!”

Let’s keep shouting until there is mercy in this world for those the world ignores.

Let’s keep asking what we can do for our neighbors.

Let’s keep following Jesus on The Way.

Because Jesus loves you, loves your neighbor, and loves the world he created.

Take heart; get up, he is calling you.

A Queer Baptism

Pr. Jasmine Waring

Pentecost 21 B October 17, 2021

The story of the Ethiopian Eunuch is a very queer story. Queer as in the original Webster’s Dictionary definition: odd, strange and peculiar. And yes, also queer as diverting from cultural norms around gender and sexuality. The word “queer” has historically been used as a slur in order to humiliate people. However over the past few decades, LGBT folks have de-weaponized this word by reclaiming it and redefining it in a way that describes our beautifully strange, left-of-center existence. A word that was intended to cause harm, has now become a word that liberates. Eunuchs are queer people we find in scripture. They were a gender and sexual minority, who lived outside their culture’s norms. Eunuchs typically served royalty, were trusted advisors, and were in charge of harems because they were viewed as not a threat to the royal bloodline. We see an example of this in the book of Esther, where a eunuch named Hegai gave the future queen a fabulous makeover, and dressed her up so that she may impress the king. This privilege and proximity to the most powerful people of their time came at a high price. They literally gave up parts of themselves and the potential to have a family of their own, in exchange for a comfortable living. People assigned male at birth would become eunuchs voluntarily or it was forced upon them as prisoners of war. Eunuchs were also excluded from worship at the Temple, due to commands of the Law. We don’t know the name of the eunuch in our reading today, but what we do know is they were a court official from Ethiopia, which is a bit different from the country we know today. They were on their way back from Jerusalem, riding through the wilderness in chariot belonging to their queen. I wonder if they made this whole journey to Jerusalem in order to worship at the Temple, only to be sent back home because their body was unacceptable in the eyes of the Law. Heartbroken, and trying to read through blurry tear-filled eyes, I wonder if they were searching through the scroll of the prophet Isaiah to find some comfort. To find something to give them answers, a loophole, that would allow him to worship with the community of God. Then a stranger comes up to him. “Do you know what you’re reading?” he says. Quickly wiping away their tears and clearing their throat, regaining their royal professionalism, they say, “How can I, unless someone guides me?” So they both read about a man of sorrows, a suffering servant, who was like a lamb silent before its sheerer. I would imagine this image of a lamb silently waiting in line to be shorn took on a deeper meaning to the eunuch. He was wounded for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities, upon him was the punishment that made us whole, and by his bruises we are healed. The eunuch asked, “Is the prophet speaking of himself or someone else?” “What’s his name?…Jesus…what happened to him?…Crucified? Yikes! What did he do to deserve that?…Wow. It’s a shame he died. He could have changed the world… He did WHAT?…Are you serious?!…Where is he now?!…If God did that for Jesus, then can God do that for me too?…How does someone get in on this?” Just then they saw a body of water off into the distance. The eunuch’s chest thumping, their stomach fluttering with butterflies, thinking, “What if I’m excluded from this too?”. They took a deep breath and commanded the chariot to stop and said, “What is preventing me from becoming baptized?”. This was a rhetorical question, they were not taking no for an answer this time. The stranger agreed there was nothing preventing them, so they both waded in the water, and the eunuch was baptized. As they arose from the waters, eyes blurry again, but this time it was tears mixed with the waters that joined them with Christ, which no one can ever separate. The eunuch turns to thank the stranger, only to find that he had disappeared into thin air. They walked back to their chariot, dripping wet, with a full and joyful heart, laughing to themselves. They returned home with a different story than what they originally expected…a beautifully strange and bigger story than anyone could imagine. According to the Ethiopian Orthodox Church, one of the oldest sects of Christianity, they believe this person brought the Gospel to Ethiopia and North Africa. Queer people have been apart of the foundation of the early church. They are not a recent addendum or peripheral to the Church, or theology. Queer people are apart of our DNA as Christians. I believe that to deny the validity of Queer Theology is to deny a part of ourselves, and miss out on the radical inclusivity of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Not only are queer people apart of our history, they are also in our present and future. Recently, the ELCA has elected two new Bishops in California. Bishop Megan Rohr, the first transgender Bishop in the Sierra Pacific Synod, and Bishop Brenda Bos, the first out lesbian Bishop in the Southwest Synod. I would have never imagined I would be a part of a church who would champion queer people like we do, and I have the privilege to stand on their shoulders. The Church is queer, beloved…odd, strange, and peculiar; diverting from cultural norms. It takes the image of a cross, that was once used to harm others, and reclaims it as an image of hope and liberation. So no matter how you identify today, May you embrace your sacred strange, the parts of you in which society tries to shame you into a box. May you be reminded that in your baptism, no one or no thing can ever separate you from Christ. May God queer your imagination, and may you disarm and reclaim the very thing meant to harm you, and may it be a tool of your own liberation. Amen.

Sermon on Mark 10:17-31

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

Can we just acknowledge from the beginning that this is an uncomfortable story?

It’s uncomfortable because talking about money is a bit taboo in the dominant culture in the US.

It’s uncomfortable because we’re all at different places with our finances and our relationships with money.

It’s uncomfortable because in this story Jesus is framing the world in a whole new way.

 

Listen to all the ways people’s expectations are turned upside down in this story:

1. First, the man expects to figure out a way he can gain eternal life, and he’s disappointed with the answer.

2. Second, the disciples expect that rich people are more blessed by God, but Jesus says it’s pretty much impossible for rich people to enter the Reign of God.

3. Finally, even we, the readers, might expect Jesus to scold the man for not following instructions, but instead, Jesus loves him.

 

And all of the confused people in this story have good reason to be confused and even disappointed:

1. Jesus’ instructions here are tough. Selling everything you own, giving away the money, and coming back to follow Jesus is a huge ask.

 

2. And Jesus saying that rich people will have a hard time being a part of the Reign of God goes against the way the disciples viewed the world.

Despite the book of Job, which describes terrible things happening to a good person for no reason we mortals can understand, many of the stories in the First Testament make it seem like getting more offspring, status, and stuff is how God blesses people when God’s happy with them.

a.  Abraham was hugely wealthy.

b. Ruth married rich Boaz.

c.  David and Solomon were rich, powerful, successful kings.

d. Esther used her powerful status as queen to save her people.

So, despite Jesus’ teaching here, it can seem like God rewards people with money and status.

______________

It can be easy to feel like God rewards people with wealth, power and status today, too.

Everywhere we look, we see wealthy, glamorous celebrities on our screens and magazines and billboards.

We read about billionaires launching rockets into space.

We can find catchy idioms in our heads: things like “pull yourself up by your bootstraps, “God helps those who help themselves,” or even see “#blessed” attached to photos of an extravagant vacation.

There is an understanding in the dominant US culture that those with a “good, Protestant work ethic” succeed and are blessed by God, and those who are poor are lazy, foolish with their money, and unworthy of better living conditions and opportunities unless they “earn” them.

Then, there are prosperity preachers who would have us believe that the more we donate to the cause of their private jets and mansions, the more we can “name and claim” expensive things for ourselves. They would have us treat God like a vending machine, dispensing the so-called “blessings” of fame and fortune like they were loaves and fishes.

It’s attractive. It makes us feel like we have control over our lives. If we have resources, it makes us feel like we’ve earned them. If we lack resources, it makes us feel like if we just hustle a little harder, we could be blessed, too.

It’s a hard worldview to get out of.

____________

But Jesus shows his disciples and us a different perspective on the world.

Instead of a world where the richer people are the more blessed by God they are, Jesus says, “many who are first will be last, and the last will be first.”

Jesus is establishing that the Reign of God is a reversal of the status quo. Indeed, a reversal of many things.

The man comes to Jesus hoping to find something he can do to gain eternal life.

But instead of gaining, he finds that he has to lose the baggage that is literally and figuratively weighing him down.

The man has been striving to be obedient to God’s commandments his whole life, and from the many riches he’s acquired, it may seem like that’s paying off. But Jesus tells him that his many possessions are actually causing him to miss something.

It doesn’t seem like it’s just the having of possessions that’s the problem. Jesus doesn’t just tell the man to get rid of them or to burn them, but to sell them and give the money to the poor.

This reversal of who owns what gives us a clue into why the man’s possessions are a problem. It’s not simply the having of them that’s the problem; it’s also that the possessions are cutting him off from his neighbor.

By telling him to sell his possessions and give the money to the poor, Jesus is inviting him into relationship with his neighbor. It’s akin to the passage in Acts 2, where it describes the way the community of the early church would “sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need.” By releasing his possessions and entering into life with his neighbors as he followed Jesus, the man would enter into the Reign of God. This is a great reversal: the man who has everything will only get what truly matters by giving it all away.

And the disciples witness this worldview reversal—it’s not as apparent in this story as some others, but the disciples expect Jesus, the Messiah, to be a triumphant warrior-king who will kick out the Romans and restore the wealth, status, and freedom of the Jewish people.

But the beginning of this story reminds us that Jesus and the disciples are on their way to Jerusalem, where Jesus will not kick out the Romans, but be executed by them.

The way of Jesus, the way of the cross, the way of the Reign of God, is not about status, wealth, or power. It is about dying—putting love for others above even one’s own life. Not in a way that glorifies suffering, but as the expected outcome of living in a way that reverses the status quo, like Jesus did.

The cross is all about reversal: Jesus the Messiah is most powerful in his absolute weakness and humiliation. Being a part of the Reign of God involves allowing that reversal of expectations to settle in your bones. It’s a mystery we can never fully grasp, even as we learn to understand the world through it.

 

___________

This whole story is about that mystery.

It’s an uncomfortable story, and through that discomfort, we discover some things about God, about ourselves, and about the world we live in.

We discover that, despite Jesus’ hard ask of this man, Jesus looked at him and loved him. This isn’t a story about judgment. Our salvation is not gained by what we do, but what Jesus has already done for us. Jesus says that things that are impossible for mortals are possible for God.

And still, this story doesn’t let us off the hook that easily. Following Jesus isn’t just about getting a ticket into heaven someday after we die. It’s about living in the Reign of God now. And that means gaining that upside down worldview this story shows us.

Living in the Reign of God means loosening the grasp we have on our possessions so that we can grasp the hands of our neighbors.

It means loosening our grasp on whatever holds us back from loving our neighbors in a status-quo-defying way.

It means looking into the eyes of our Messiah, who loves us and who gave up everything for us, and doing our best to follow in his footsteps, even as we know that we are entirely dependent on God to pick us up when we fail.

So, rest secure in the love of your Savior. And then let this uncomfortable story work on you, turn your worldview upside down, and invite you into the Reign of God, where “many who are first will be last, and the last will be first.”