First, read the scripture text: Mark 8:31-38. (Sermons are generally intended to be heard – and mine always vary a bit from the written form. The recording is here, beginning at 24:30.)
Here’s the sermon:
You can hear Peter and the other disciples’ horror in the words “he said all this quite openly.” In that understated but editorializing line, a clear implication – this is something that Jesus wasn’t supposed to say this out loud. But there Jesus goes – blurting it out. He tends to do this. Sometimes Jesus brashly names the thing that no one wants to say. Maybe you know people like this. But here the feeling is a sinking stomach, that Jesus has said it out loud, quite openly.
What would it be for you – that would make you have that feeling, make you think – “Shhh…” to something Jesus said out loud. Flip through the gospels for inspiration, or ones that come to my mind: walking down the street and Jesus kept offering your stuff to folks in need – “he’s got two coats! I bet you could have one!” “Change? She can go to the ATM for you…” Would Jesus say a little too loudly “but I say to you, love your enemies,” as you grumble at the news on t.v. of your political opposites, or see that thing so-and-so posted on social media again?
He said all this quite openly.
The movie “The Farewell,” is based on the author’s true story, first shared on a podcast episode (a great listen, here: https://www.thisamericanlife.org/585/in-defense-of-ignorance/act-one-7). It’s about a Chinese and Chinese-American family who gathers for a final farewell to the matriarch grandmother, who has been diagnosed with terminal cancer. The thing is, they aren’t telling her. The movie explores (perhaps to an extreme) a cultural tradition to not tell someone with a terminal diagnosis that they are dying. The doctor tells the family member, and they decide how to handle it – for this family, the cultural belief is that by telling the person, the anxiety and fear could create a worse quality or shorten life. This isn’t a universal practice among Chinese culture (Read a commentary on this: https://www.nytimes.com/2019/07/24/movies/the-farewell-family-lies.html), and it sounds unusual to me as a white American – in fact it is against the law here to keep someone’s diagnosis or medical information from them.
Through the movie you hold your breath with the characters to see if anyone will spill the beans, or if the grandmother actually knows. It is made very clear what is not to be talked about, and the main character granddaughter is chided often and encouraged to smile and not let on her grief. You wrestle with the concepts, and what love looks like, even as you might judge them for keeping the secret.
But aren’t there things your family doesn’t talk about? Are there times you avoid saying the word, like “cancer” or “addiction” even though it’s true? It’s pretty human to avoid or soften death or suffering, in different ways: how we talk about it, the practices we build around it. And everyone has things they just don’t want to talk about with certain people: money, sex, religion, or a health problem, a personal struggle, or something that’s coming but we want to avoid. As a culture and a global community there are things we avoid talking about as well – perhaps because like Peter, it feels too overwhelming, too scary, to actually name the death ahead – whether it’s climate change, racism, or the reality of human suffering or hunger, although there is enough for all to eat. But we don’t talk about it…
In our gospel story Peter feels like the family in the movie, that there is a clear expectation of what not to talk about. This is the first time Jesus has given this terminal diagnosis – for himself (and hence, this movement that they are building). Peter can’t handle Jesus saying this out loud – and he takes him aside – rebukes Jesus – like – it’d be one thing if you just shared this with your key leaders, but here – you’re just talking about this – to everyone. And it’s the big secret – the one everyone fears – at least they think – that it means the thing they are so afraid of – “it won’t work.”
This is often the thing we’re afraid of and never name as well – that something won’t work or will die.
Sometimes we’re scared to start because we’re afraid of failing, of taking up a cross and it not ending in a resurrection. Sometimes we’re scared about going to counseling, or asking a partner or family member to go to therapy with us, because we’re afraid, because we can’t imagine the “rise again” after the death and struggle you know it will take.
But not taking it up doesn’t change the fact that we all have a cross. Jesus invites us to take it up – say it openly – even if only to ourselves, take it on and follow Jesus – on the way to rise again. The thing about the movie is that although the family doesn’t actually talk about death, they prepare for it – by holding a big party. They take up their cross, within their own cultural framework, grieving and celebrating in their own way – not denying death but moving forward through the wilderness it brings.
However we might imagine Jesus saying something openly that would frighten us – the promise is that if that happens – Jesus is beside us – and if Jesus talks about death – he also talks about resurrection. Life is coming. We might worry for a second when we feel like Jesus is calling us into a scary place – to give more, or go down a path that takes risk or a new start – but the promise would be that Jesus is with you on that way.
Well known Jesuit, “Father James Martin, recently argued that “the mystery of suffering is unanswerable,” that no explanation suffices for all the diversities of human pain, and therefore what Christians must offer instead of argument is the person of Jesus — whose ministry of healing both reveals a loving God and shows us where to find his presence today, among people caring for the grieving, the dying and the sick.” (From https://www.nytimes.com/2020/04/11/opinion/sunday/coronavirus-religion.html; thanks to Pastor Deanna Boynton who mentioned it.)
In those very places of stress, fear, or wobbly hope – Jesus is there. In the kindness in the midst of great loss, in the fact that we continue to gather and sing the songs and pray – Jesus is here. Jesus’ very presence is the promise – walkin g beside us – knowing the struggle – and pointing us ahead to new life. We walk together. Thanks be to God. Amen.
A Wideness in God's Mercy 