Lectionary Reflections

Lectionary Reflections by Various Authors
Mission Ready! Sermon Starter
Mark 6:1-13 Picture yourself starting a brand new project. You might want to call it mission. In a parish where most of the communicants were government workers, civilian and military, I was always hearing the word, mission. I had understood mission in a religious context. I learned that mission could have a broader meaning. Life is mission. Business is mission. Career is mission. Mission is a good word. It suggests vision that is supported by good planning. Define your mission clearly. State its purpose briefly. Write the rules for implementing it. That will be your business plan. That makes you mission ready. The Gospel is about mission. St. Mark has a way of zeroing in on the basics. He's very brief and to the point. Let's get the picture. Jesus sets up a "pilot test" project. He wants to test how well his brand new on-the-job trainees can take instructions and make them work. In this Gospel we see him giving them a lesson on some very basic matters. I will use three key words to highlight his work plan: Excess, Time and Respond. In the simplest terms, the basics are: avoid Excesses, use Time wisely, and Respond, don't react, to each new challenge. I suggest that these basics will work for you too, any time and any place: at work, in the classroom, on a hike or vacation or fishing trip. They will work when you are at lunch with your best client. And they will work when you are on your most promising date. Here's what Jesus does. He divides the Twelve into visitation teams of two's. He sends them down the highways, byways, alleys and lanes. Actually, this is a short journey in a familiar environment. It is intended as a kind of "appetizer" for longer and more arduous journeys they will take later. But listen how direct and to the point his instruction is...
  1. Avoid Excesses
  2. Use Time Wisely
  3. Respond, Don't React, to Each New Challenge.

WHO DOES HE THINK HE IS? by Linea Warmke
He came back for a visit to his home town. His kinfolk and neighbors they all put Him down. This Jesus, who does He think He is? The promised Messiah, that’s who He is. Because their unbelief was so strong, No blessings of miracles to them belong. This Jesus, who does He think He is? The Healer the Comforter, that’s who He is. Rejected and spurned, it was time to go. He had planted the seed, only God could make it grow. This Jesus, who does He think He is? The Giver of life, that’s who He is. To his disciples he gave the command. Take no money, no food, you’re in God’s hand. This Jesus, who does He think He is? A Prophet and King, that who He is. Repent of your sins, of God’s love tell all. Go! Make disciples and follow your call. This Jesus, who does He think He is? An Evangelist, the Good News, that’s who He is. He died on the cross for you and for me. Gave new life on earth and in eternity. This Jesus, who does He think He is?” … God’s Son, our Savior, that’s who He is.
Pridefulness: Not Needing God
Atlas was condemned to carry the weight of the entire world on his shoulders. That was as harsh a punishment as the ancient Greek mind could conjure up. Today, it seems, we have volunteered to play the role of Atlas. We have not offended God, we have dismissed him, told him we were grown up enough not to need his help any more, and offered to carry the weight of the entire world on our shoulders. The question is, when it gets too heavy for us, when there are questions too hard for human knowledge to answer and problems that take more time to solve than any of us have, will we be too proud to admit that we have made a mistake in wanting to carry this world alone? (by Rabbi Harold Kushner)
Switching Tracks
Sometimes the best thing we can do is to move on to another field. Paul Harvey tells the story of Joe, who was born into a family of Sicilian immigrants, a family who had a 300-year history as fishermen. Joe's dad was a fisherman. His brothers were fishermen. But Joe was made sick by the smell of raw fish and the motion of a rocking boat. In a family where the only acceptable way to earn a living was by fishing, Joe was a failure. His dad used to refer to his son as "good for nothing." Joe believed his dad. He believed that his attempts at other types of work were an admission of failure, but he just couldn't stand the smell of the fishing business. One thing that Joe could do was to play baseball. Giving up a field where he could not succeed, Joe DiMaggio moved to another field and became one of the great successes of baseball. (by David G. Rogne from Sermons for Sundays after Pentecost)
Call to Repentance and Change
Erwin M. Soukup has compiled what he terms The Seven Steps to Stagnation: 1. We've never done it that way before. 2. We're not ready for that. 3. We are doing all right without trying that. 4. We tried it once before. 5. We don't have money for that. 6. That's not our job. 7. Something like that can't work. Soukup admits that "there's probably an eighth step, but we've never looked it up before." (by Martin E. Marty from Context, April 15, 1985, p. 5)
Ignoring the Play
When I was in elementary school, I remember when all the kids in the neighborhood got together and put on a show. We rigged up a curtain of sorts by hanging an old bedspread in a screened porch, and arranged folding chairs for the audience. Then we practiced a small play, and added in a few musical solos, for which I played the piano. (Because we couldn't move the piano closer to the play, I had to play it very loud, and even then it was barely audible.) As I remember it, it was a prodigious feat for little kids like us. We invited all our mothers to come to our performance. (That was back in the days when housewives were not an endangered species and most mothers were home all day.) Although we did not charge admission, we went through the motions of collecting tickets and ushering our guests to their seats. Our audience was charmed by how cute that was. Then we put on our play. We put a lot of work into our play. We had to invent everything from scratch and improvise sets and costumes from things our mothers reluctantly loaned us, and yet they didn't pay attention! They sat there and gossiped with each other, commenting on whether this kid was a natural singer or that kid was terminally shy. At the end, they retained nothing of the plot or the story of our play; they just told us how cute we were. Cute! The word stung! We wanted them to take us seriously, as if we were adults putting on a play. But they were so well acquainted with us that all they saw were cute little kids, and no play at all. Well, that is pretty much what happened to Jesus in today's reading. (by Ken Collins from No Honor in His Own Country)
The Object of Envy Is Trapped
In his story "Abel Sanchez," writer Miguel de Unamuno nicely highlights the nature of envy and why it that the envied person is often trapped. In this retelling of the Cain and Abel story from Genesis 4, the Cain character is played by a skilled surgeon who has for years secretly envied his friend, Abel Sanchez, a skilled artist. At one point in the story, the doctor is scrutinizing one of Abel's paintings. This particular painting is a depiction of the Cain and Abel story itself from the Bible. At first, the doctor is convinced that the face of Cain in the painting is modeled on his own face. And he becomes furious! How dare Abel Sanchez use HIM as a model for envy? The gall! The nerve! The implied accusation! But then, upon closer inspection, the doctor decides it's not his face after all. Does this defuse his anger, however? By no means! Instead the surgeon becomes irate that Abel Sanchez did NOT deign to use him in one of his famous paintings! How dare Abel NOT use his face! De Unamuno's point is clear: when you are the object of envy, you cannot do a blessed thing to make the situation any better. Try to be extra kind to the one who envies you, and this kindness will get written off as condescension and charity. Try to rise above things by ignoring the one torn up with envy and you will be written off as arrogant and rude, thereby merely confirming the envier's low opinion of you. Neither approach nor avoidance can help the envied one. It's difficult to know how much of a role envy plays in Mark 6 but surely the sneering attitude of Jesus' fellow townsfolk revealed at least a smidgen of envy-driven sentiments. Maybe this had something to do with his inability/unwillingness to do miracles there. He was doomed no matter what he did. Do more miracles, and the people write him off as a showboat (and/or as someone drawing off power from dubious sources). If he refused to do miracles, maybe a few would say, "What now?! We're not good enough for you, not WORTHY of your wonder-working power!?" Perhaps the only thing left to do was leave town and go to other villages, from which Jesus sent forth his disciples-cum-apostles to do wonderful work in places where it could be unalloyedly appreciated. (by Scott Hoezee from Comments and Observations
A Reputation Is Hard to Shake
Do you remember the stupid stuff you did when you were a kid? I'm not talking about wetting the bed or spilling your milk; I mean the things that you did in public, the things that were known in the community and, perhaps, even gave you a reputation. Maybe you were arrested for some prank, or you were kicked off the football team for drinking, or maybe, on a dare, you streaked the high school lunchroom. Whatever. The point is, a reputation is a hard thing to shake. Even as a fully grown adult, when you go back home, the people still whisper: "There's Bill Smith, he got busted for 'dining and dashing' back in '72". No wonder so many people move away from their hometown when they grow up! It's less humbling that way. In high school, I was known as "The Class Clown." Now there's a shock! I was forever cutting up in class, telling jokes, making smart comments. When I arrived in biology class on the first day, the teacher took role, and when she came to my name, she said "Steve, I've heard about you, and you've got one chance. If you smart off in my class, you're out of here." Well, I lasted about a week. When Mrs. McMartin asked if someone could define the word "dilute" I said that it was a city on the shore of Lake Superior. Hello, study hall! But as my life began to change, some people wouldn't let me change. I came to faith in Christ and got serious about ministry, but people still saw me as a clown. I decided to go to seminary and they whispered "That's Steve Molin, he was tossed off the college hockey team in '68." When I got ordained, some supposed that I would show up as Guido Sarducci of the Saturday Night Live skit. Is it any wonder then that my first ministry job was in Rochester, some 70 miles from home? Or that my next call was to Sioux Falls, 250 miles from here. Or that next, I traveled 1600 miles away to serve in Salem, Oregon. In Salem, they loved me. In Sioux Falls, they took me seriously. But seven years ago, I came back home, and I can't tell you how many times I have run into people from my high school who have said "Really? Steve Molin? A Lutheran pastor?" As I said, it's hard to shake a reputation. (by Steven Molin from An Expert Is Someone 300 Miles Away from Home)
Glued to Our Faults
James S. Hewett once gave an apt example of people not getting the respect they deserve. Especially young people. He tells about his son, who was using one of those super-adhesive glues on a model airplane he was building. "In less than three minutes," says James Hewett, "his right index finger was bonded to a shiny blue wing of his DC-10. He tried to free it. He tugged it, pulled it, waved it frantically, but he couldn't budge his finger free." Soon, they located a solvent that did the job and ended their moment of crisis. Then James Hewitt writes this: "Last night I remembered that scene when I visited a new family in our neighborhood. The father of the family introduced his children: 'This is Pete. He's the clumsy one of the lot.' 'That's Kathy coming in with mud on her shoes. She's the sloppy one.' 'As always, Mike is last. He'll be late for his own funeral, I promise you.'" James Hewett goes on to say, "The dad did a thorough job of gluing his children to their faults and mistakes. People do it to us all the time. They remind us of our failures, our errors, our sins, and they won't let us live them down. Like my son trying frantically to free his finger from the plane, there are people who try, sometimes desperately, to free themselves from their past. They would love a chance to begin again. When we don't let people forget their past, when we don't forgive, we glue them to their mistakes and refuse to see them as more than something they have done. However, when we forgive, we gently pry the doer of the hurtful deed from the deed itself, and we say that the past is just that--the past--over and done with . . ." (by King Duncan from Collected Sermons, www.Sermons.com)
Our Burdens
St. Paul writes in II Corinthians 12:9, "And God said unto me, 'My grace is sufficient for thee . . .'" What a hard thing that is for us to accept. We are like the old man riding down the road on a donkey while he carried a 200 pound sack of wheat on his shoulder. Someone asked him why he didn't take the weight off of his shoulders and strap it to the donkey. "Oh, no!" he protested. "I couldn't ask the donkey to carry all that weight." Many of us are carrying burdens today that we do not have to carry. Only our lack of faith, trust and confidence that God really is alive and able to relieve us of our burdens keeps us in bondage. How frustrated Christ must be with our lack of faith. (by King Duncan from Collected Sermons, www.Sermons.com)