“Acting on Faith”
September 29, 2024
Rev. Rebecca Migliore
We are continuing in our reading of the gospel of Mark. Just two weeks ago, Jesus was asking “Who do you say that I am?” and Peter blurts out, “You are the Messiah,” but he doesn’t know what that means. As Mark tells the story, Jesus keeps trying to define what Messiah means, and the disciples just don’t get it.
They are more interested in “who is the greatest among us?” Who is going to get to sit at the preferred places when Jesus is in power? Maybe even who does Jesus like more? But these petty quarrels are embarrassing when Jesus asks, “What were you talking about?” Jesus sits down to talk about, not “Who am I?” but “Who are you?”
This isn’t a rating of the top ten disciples. Jesus picks up a little child, “and taking it in his arms” says “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me…” In other words, What you do matters. How you act matters. Who you include matters. And those who are vulnerable, those who have no standing, those who are like this little child—who I hold here in my arms—if you welcome them, you welcome me.
I was really struck by the fact that more than one of the commentators I read on our lesson for today (which follows right after the picture I have drawn for you) prod us as readers to remember that Jesus is STILL holding that little child throughout the following conversation.
And what the disciples do, what we often do—is miss Jesus’ point. They hear him, but they filter what they hear. They hear “How you act matters” and they immediately move to how they have acted. They/we want to defend ourselves. John (in only one of two times that Mark records him speaking in the whole gospel), John pipes up and says, “We are acting for you. In fact, just the other day we saw someone casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him because he was not following us!” Let’s note that John immediately made the whole conversation about what he/they had done.
And I find it important that John says, he wasn’t following US. Not, he wasn’t following you, Jesus. I know he meant, he wasn’t one of us, he wasn’t doing the hard work of following you around the country, and trying to decipher what you mean when you tell us deep things, and getting in trouble with the authorities. He wasn’t doing the hard work of discipleship, but was trying to claim the notoriety of healing in your name! We wouldn’t have that, and tried to put a stop to it!
Here John is putting the spotlight on himself. And creating an us/them narrative. He wasn’t one of us, so he couldn’t possibly be doing good in your name. That’s our exclusive thing. We have to protect our brand. And I can imagine Jesus sighing, as he tries to hold this squirming child in his arms, the very definition of what he is trying to impart to the disciples. It isn’t about you—it’s about someone else. Welcoming those who aren’t at the table isn’t easy. Those who have been left out tend to have emotions surrounding their plight. Those who have been on the fringe tend not to have any interest in the “company line.” It is the sometimes difficult process of including those not like us, not the exclusion, that Jesus is talking about.
Jesus doesn’t pat John on the back (as I’m sure he expected)—but pushes back at the idea that if “they” are not for us, if “they” are not with us, they must be against us. Instead, Jesus says, in that inside out, upside down kind of way, “if they are not against us, they are for us.” And then Jesus returns to his discussion of Who are you? (which John had interrupted).
At this point he launches into his exaggerations about cutting off body parts if they lead you to sin, if they lead you to cause others to sin. Jesus certainly has our attention now—even if it is to try to figure out if he is just kidding or is serious! And then he ends this section of his talk with “Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace with one another.” I think this line is the starting point for figuring out who we are supposed to be. We are to be at peace with one another, and we are to have salt in ourselves. (That is how we keep ourselves on the right track, and keep from pushing others onto the wrong track—see sentences about lopping off parts of yourself!)
We all know how difficult it is to be at peace with one another. All we have to do is look at our world and we see places where people just can’t figure out a way to be at peace with one another. All we have to do is look at our own country and we see so many examples of not knowing how to be at peace with one another. It is hard when we disagree, but that does not mean that we have to be at war! Maybe we need to listen to Jesus’ advice again, “Whoever is not against us, is for us.” I’m not sure that I agree with that for every situation, but I think it is reminding us to try to find areas of commonality and start with those.
In God’s beautiful world of diversity, we are bound to disagree, which may push us to refine our positions, or look at something from a new point of view. But what if we started the discussion, what if we grounded ourselves, not on what makes us different, but what makes us the same—on what we can agree on? I wish I could say that would be God, or God’s vision for a better world, but I’m not naïve enough to think that works in the 21st century.
I hope I can say that most of us agree that living in peace with one another and respecting each other, honoring each other, welcoming each other, as if we were welcoming Jesus/the divine into our midst was something we agree on. I know not everyone would consider even that as a common point. We can’t control how anyone else thinks or acts or lives. But we can decide how we are going to be in this world, how we are going to act towards those we meet, and who we are going to include in our fellowship. Being at peace (or better yet, at Shalom) with one another doesn’t mean shying away from making waves—but being intentional about issues of justice and mercy and love. We are “at peace/shalom” with one another when we urge one another to be the best we can be, individually and together.
Which leads us to the other part of what Jesus presses us to do, to be, how we are to act. “Have salt in yourselves.” Now what does Jesus mean by that? Salt was used in the ancient world to season, to preserve. It is also what we taste when tears run down our faces. So, have salt in yourselves is a push to persevere (to keep on keeping on)—to preserve what is good and kind and gracious. To hold it up and never let it go.
Have salt in yourselves is a blessing for us to be who we are—to show our flair, to be proud of our talents, to not let anyone else step on our dreams, or our ideas. We are each a seasoning in the soup of our community. Without us, it would be a different meal.
And Have salt in yourselves reminds us never to forget the compassion we must have for others. We cannot allow ourselves to become disconnected from other people—so that we forget their pain, we forget their sorrow, we forget what ultimately forges a bond between us—that we are human (as William Shakespeare has Shylock say in the Merchant of Venice, “If you prick us, do we not bleed?”).
So how do we act on what we believe? How do we live in this world so that we are both holding onto Shalom and salting the world around us? I am inspired by Queen Esther who took a risk to stand up for her people. I am inspired by Sojourner Truth, who was such a passionate advocate for equality for all. Speaking about women’s rights (after black men had been given the vote in the 15th amendment) she said, “I want women to have their rights and while the water is stirring, I’ll step into the pool.”
I am inspired by Marsha P Johnson, who lived her life before the word transgender was common. Marsha and her friend Sylvia Rivera, founded STAR (Street Transvestite Action Revolutionaries) to give shelter and resources to LGBTQ homeless youth. I am inspired by Alicia Garza, Patrisse Cullors, and Opal Tometi, who founded Black Lives Matter in response to Trayvon Martin’s murder by George Zimmerman. I am inspired by David Ledbetter, who at 17 (in 2019) noticed that lots of people were waiting in long lines at the Popeyes in Charlotte, NC because of the new chicken sandwich. So he decided that was the perfect place to make sure people were registered to vote!
I am inspired by the nuns and the Mennonites and others of the Lancaster Against Pipelines who were trying to save their land and water from being crossed by the Atlantic Sunrise Pipeline. The Nuns put up an outdoor chapel, nicknamed the Cornfield Chapel, right in the way of the pipeline. Morning and evening, in rain or darkness, they trudged out to the chapel with their canes and walkers--to worship, and to be a symbol of acting on their faith of the importance of taking care of our earth.
“We’re about to pick up our wings and halos” said Klostermann, the youngest nun there—in her late seventies. “We’re not just fighting for ourselves. We’re fighting for the future.” (The sisters lost their suit against the multinational corporation, and the pipeline now runs underneath the chapel).
But their dedication is a picture of how one can have salt in ourselves, and live a life at peace with one another, while still rattling the bars of our cages for justice. And all while working with others we didn’t know before. Widening the circle of those who are acting out their faith, acting in faith, acting on faith. May we join them as well—having salt, being at peace, living out our faith, Alleluia.Amen.