“Walking And Talking” | Mark 8: 27-38
Since the ministry was a second career for me and I was willing to begin with a full-time appointment I chose to do my seminary work with what is called “Course-of-Study.” Course of Study has been around since John Wesley was alive and in fact was actually how all Methodist clergy were trained prior to the institution of Seminaries. And if someone ever says I did seminary the easy way, well, they’re in for a fight from me.
Back then, we were required to attend classes for a month in the summer at Candler School of Theology at Emory University in Atlanta. Most of the work now is done online. But make no mistake, there was more work required during the year than just the month of classes. While at Emory there was a small group of us who agreed that we would do the five-year course in five years, and we did. And some of us vowed to walk to class every day versus riding on the buses. Every morning, we would pass those waiting for the bus and walk to class. It was an excellent opportunity for us to get some exercise, discuss theology, review what we had coming up in class, and just generally bond.
I had an interview with the Board of Ministry for the Global Methodist Church last week and one of the Board members mentioned, “You know, there is some difference in the theology of the Global Methodist Church verses that of the United Methodist Church.” I said, “Well, I hope so! Otherwise, this would all be a waste of time.”
At first glance of our Scripture for this morning we see Jesus and the disciples doing what they did often and what we did on our way to class every morning: Walking and Talking. It has been said that Jesus walked everywhere He went and did so at the pace of three miles per hour. And more often than not the disciples were right there with Him. Maybe it’s the nerd in me but wouldn’t it have been really cool to be included in some of those conversations? I guess, because the Bible make us a part of the story we are included; or, quoting my spiritual mentor from this week, “The Bible wants what happened on its pages to keep on happening as its pages are turned.
Caesaria Philippi, the location of our story this morning, was an especially pagan city known for its worship of Greek gods and its temples devoted to the ancient god Pan.
As they were walking and talking Jesus asked His travelling companions who other people were saying He was. Then, turning the tables like only Jesus could He asked who they said He was. It’s not enough to simply know what others say about Jesus. You yourself must know—and understand—and accept for yourself that He is the Christ.
To get this realization of who Jesus really is, you must move from curiosity to commitment—from admiration to adoration.
Why do you think Jesus warned the Twelve not to tell anyone about Him? Because they needed more instruction. They didn’t know enough about Him yet to be able to tell anyone else.
According to that great font of wisdom, Yogi Berra, “If you come to a fork in the road, take it.” This 8th chapter of the book of Mark is a kind of theological fork in the road. This chapter is the hinge of Mark’s gospel. Not only is this the exact middle of Mark in terms of chapters and verses, but it’s also theologically the center at which the ministry of Jesus takes a decisive turn toward the cross. Jesus seems to know what He is doing and where He is going, or at least where He must go whether He wants to or not. For the disciples, Mark 8 does present a kind of fork in the road. And like Yogi Berra, as they look at the fork in the road, they want to take it. They want it both ways (Sound familiar?). They want to stick with Jesus and be His followers while at the same time insisting that Jesus follow them down the path they want to take.
Calling the crowd to join Him and the disciples Jesus proclaims: “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” This challenge is for both the disciples and anyone else within the sound of His voice. Remember, this is enemy territory. A city full of pagans. This isn’t just a requirement for the inner circle of the 12; no, this is at the heart of what it means to follow Jesus. This is where the tough get going and the weak fall by the wayside! This is where the men and the boys are separated! This is that fork in the road that Yogi warns us about, and the decision of which fork to take becomes very difficult. No one said following Jesus was going to be easy and the Master has just made it even tougher. Take up our cross and follow Him? Give up our own way? I was just looking for some help, some encouragement, a pat on the back. It’s no wonder Jesus must teach this to us, for here is an insight that we would never be able to come to on our own, or even want to come to on our own!
From this point on, Jesus spoke plainly and directly to His disciples about His death and resurrection and Peter rebukes Him, or scolds Jesus. What was that old commercial on television, “It’s not nice to fool Mother Nature.” It’s probably not a good idea to rebuke or scold our Lord and Savior.
Peter was thinking of himself. He wanted Jesus to be king, not the Suffering Servant we read about in Isaiah 53.
The Christian life is not a paved road to wealth and ease. It often involves hard work, persecution, deprivation, and deep suffering. Peter saw only part of the picture—what he wanted to see. We need to work hard not to fall into that same trap. And even though Peter was often the spokesperson for the whole group, and he seems to be singled out here; I believe that Jesus was using His friend to get the message across to everyone in ear shot.
And this is a challenge for us as well—for the church of every generation. I don’t believe that Jesus is actually calling Peter Satan or there wouldn’t be a comma before the word Satan. No, Jesus is merely telling Peter where he and we need to be: behind Jesus!
To deny ourselves involves ceasing to make self the object of our life and actions. It is making ourselves not an end, but a means, in the kingdom of God. It’s to get rid of our preoccupation with “I,” “me,” and “mine,” its concerns for self-assertion, its insistence on comfort and prestige.
Denying ourselves is the same thing as dying to ourselves so we can live for Christ. Dying to ourselves is not a one-time decision—it’s a daily decision. That’s the most challenging part of dying.
Our joy is dependent on our abiding and recognizing Christ. Self-centeredness is the barrier to our abiding in Him. Our basic problem is that we have dislodged God from the center of our being; self-interest, self-serving, self-worship have taken God’s place.
When we look at the cross today we see victory. We wear the cross on our body as a witness to who we are. When the people of Jesus’ day saw a cross, they saw shame—a symbol of humiliation.
The Romans made a sport of crucifying folks who got in their way—especially Jews. To use them as an example, they might crucify up to 1000 at a time. There would be crosses everywhere you went, like road signs on the Interstate.
“For the joy set before Him (Jesus) He endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God” (Hebrews 12:2).
The cross for Jesus was His choice of giving His life as a ransom for many. Taking up the cross for the disciple means the deliberate choice of something that could be evaded—to take up a burden which we are under no compulsion to take up—except the compulsion of God’s love in Christ. It means the choice of taking upon ourselves the burdens of others’ lives—of putting ourselves without reservation at the service of Christ in preparing a way for the kingdom of God—of putting ourselves in the struggle against evil, whatever the cost.
Father Mychal Judge was a chaplain for the New York City Fire Department. He was known throughout the city for his ministries to the homeless population, to people with addictions, to AIDS patients.
On September 11, 2001, twenty-three years ago this past Wednesday, when terrorists attacked the World Trade Center, Father Mychal Judge showed up to aid firefighters. He was praying over the injured workers and the firefighters when debris from the collapsing building struck him in the head and killed him. Maybe you remember seeing the pictures of the firemen carrying Father Mychal from the rubble.
At his funeral, the Rev. Michael Duffy gave the following eulogy: “And the next few weeks, we’re going to have names added, name after name of people, who are being brought out of that rubble. And Mychal Judge is going to be on the other side of death to meet them…And he’s going to greet them with that big Irish smile. He’s going to take them by the arm and the hand and say, ‘Welcome, I want to take you to my Father.’ And so, he can continue doing in death what he couldn’t do in life.”
Father Mychal Judge gave up his own way—took up his cross—and followed Jesus. And because he had already died to himself, he was willing to face death to bring the hope of God to others.
Who do you say I am? I would suggest to you this morning that that is the most urgent, the most relevant, the most theological question that confronts us today. Wherever we turn in life we are faced with the implications of this question.
Throughout the ages various individuals have attempted to answer that question posed by Jesus. Ernest Renan, a French writer, answered it by saying that Jesus was a sentimental idealist. Bruce Barton, an American businessman, said that Jesus was the greatest salesman who ever lived. William Hirsch, a Jewish writer, responded that Jesus conformed to the clinical picture of paranoia. A musical drama was performed many years ago that answered this question by saying that Jesus was a Superstar. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the German theologian, referred to Jesus as the “man for others.”
The Gospel writers also attempted in their own fashion to answer this most fundamental question. They bestowed upon him numerous titles and claims: Son of God, Son of man, Divine physician, king, prophet, bridegroom, light of the world, the door, the vine, the high priest, the firstborn of creation, the bright and morning star, and the Alpha and Omega.
All these were attempts to answer this question by Jesus. But these attempts are made by others. Jesus is more concerned with what your answer is than what their answer was. Martin Luther, another German theologian, wrote: “I care not whether he be Christ, but that he be Christ for you.” Peter responded, “You are the Messiah.”
Who do you say He is?
Thanks be to God!
Eastman First Methodist Church 