First Presbyterian Church
Lenten Nourishment
Sermon for March 12, 2006
by Pastor Susan Barnes

Psalm 22 begins “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” They are the words Jesus spoke from the cross. The rest of the psalm goes “Why are you so far from helping me, from the words of my groaning?”

These aren't questions that need answers; these are questions that need to be heard.

We have a covenant with God, and that's different from a contract. If we had a contract, we would say “You broke our agreement. I'm out of here.” But we have a covenant with God, and so the psalmist demands “Where are you? I'm not leaving, so show yourself!” One who laments longs for a relationship with God. One who laments accepts the idea of a relationship with God. One who laments expects a relationship with God. When we lament, it means we refuse to withdraw into apathy and disbelief. 1

When we try to stop complaining and crying and whining and lamenting, we distance ourselves from God. When we share our grief, we draw closer. That's why listening to someone lament can be such a great gift to that person.

Such questions as ‘why have you forsaken me,' ‘why are you so far away' demand a compassionate response, but not a rational explanation.

And so the psalmist works through grief and abandonment, and eventually comes to a realization that is our reading for this morning. Our unison reading is on page 501. Listen for the word of God as we read it together in Psalm 22:23-31.

You who fear the LORD , praise him!

All you offspring of Jacob, glorify him; stand in awe of him, all you offspring of Israel!

For he did not despise or abhor the affliction of the afflicted; he did not hide his face from me, but heard when I cried to him.

From you comes my praise in the great congregation; my vows I will pay before those who fear him.

The poor shall eat and be satisfied; those who seek him shall praise the LORD .

May your hearts live forever!

All the ends of the earth shall remember and turn to the LORD; and all the families of the nations shall worship before him.

For dominion belongs to the LORD, and he rules over the nations.

To him, indeed, shall all who sleep in the earth bow down; before him shall bow all who go down to the dust, and I shall live for him.

Posterity will serve him; future generations will be told about the Lord, and proclaim his deliverance to a people yet unborn, saying that he has done it.

This ends our reading from the psalms. Our gospel reading comes just after Peter has identified Jesus as the Messiah, the Christ, the Anointed One, come to save Israel. You may follow along on page 44. Listen for the word of God as it is found in Mark 8:31-38.

Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again.

He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him.

But turning and looking at his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, "Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things."

He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.

For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.

For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life?

Indeed, what can they give in return for their life?

Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels."

Anthem

O Gracious and holy God, give us diligence to seek you, wisdom to perceive you, and patience to wait for you. Grant us, O God, a mind to meditate on you, eyes to behold you, ears to listen for your word, a heart to love you, and a life to proclaim you, through the power of the spirit of Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Betty Friedan died last month. When I was in college, I read her groundbreaking book The Feminine Mystique . I didn't really understand the book, written in 1958. Friedan wrote, “A woman has got to be able to say and not feel guilty, ‘Who am I, and what do I want out of life?' She mustn't feel selfish and neurotic if she wants goals of her own, outside of husband and children.” I couldn't imagine anyone thinking a woman was selfish for having any goal that doesn't have to do with a family.

But those of you older than I am probably remember those times. Perhaps some of you women were denied a college education by well-meaning parents who sent your brothers. Maybe some of you men remember stories of your mother dropping out of school to care for you and your brothers and sisters. Or maybe your sister had to cut her education short to help her mother at home.

This verse about taking up your cross was preached to women to accept their role in life. Education and careers were denied them. I know it's hard for those of you younger than I am to believe this. You don't remember school where boys got all the good athletic equipment, and if the girls were lucky, they got the leftovers. You can't imagine a time when the city would not celebrate the girls' basketball team going to the state tournament with as much fervor as if the boys had done it. But that time wasn't all that long ago.

Some of you are old enough to remember when your pastors were not women. I got a letter from one of the first hundred or so Presbyterian clergywomen who said she didn't see another clergywoman for years after she graduated. When I was in seminary in 1987, I read a book called In Memory of Her. It had been out for just a few years, and was the first book I read on feminist biblical interpretation. I found it very helpful. This week, I read an account by a professor who assigned the book to her seminary students in 1997. She said “a first-year seminary student actually asked me if the book had been all that ground-breaking, since the information seemed to be mostly old hat to her.” 2

Having a woman pastor may be old hat to most of you by now. Expecting women to set goals for themselves no longer seems like a cutting edge idea; it is no longer thinking outside the box.

But what definitely lingers is the idea that suffering is what Christians ought to do. After all, the three synoptic gospels, Matthew, Mark, and Luke quote Jesus saying “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” Doesn't this text mean ‘suffering is good, be a victim, sacrifice yourself, embrace that cross.' Discipleship must mean ‘suffer now for a reward later in the age to come.'

That's not a message I heard, growing up in the church, but I know many people have heard that still. We hear the phrase “My cross to bear” when people refer to their own illness, or to an abusive spouse, or to an aging relative they have to care for. They think suffering is their lot in life, part of God's will.

Just this week someone asked me if it was hard to go to the hospital and see very ill people. It isn't. It's really a privilege to be with someone close to death. When I go see someone in the hospital, I actually do very little. I'm not a medically-trained person, so I don't generally do anything for patients that requires any skill at all – I can hand them a glass of water or find the tv remote lost in the blankets or close the door. I can go tell a nurse “he's cold” or “her iv is pulled out” or ‘she's in pain.' More often than not, I learn that the nurse has just taken away blankets because the patient was too hot, or that the nurse just adjusted the IV and the patient pulled it out again, or that the nurse just asked her if she was in pain and she said no. Sometimes people tell me more than they will tell a nurse. I think they tell me because they know they're not bothering me because they can sense I have time to sit with them and listen. They know nurses have other patients to care for. I know that nurses want to care for all their patients. I know that it's no bother for a nurse to hear that a patient is in pain; no nurse minds bringing pain medication to a suffering patient. The nurses and I know that suffering is not therapeutic. People in pain heal more slowly. But sometimes people think they have to suffer.

And then there are the caregivers who push themselves too hard, without taking care of their own needs. So when I go to the hospital, I make sure to spend time with the patient's family members. I listen to them lament. I routinely ask, “Have you eaten? Have you slept? Have you left the hospital?” Sometimes they say ‘No, but I just can't.' And so I just listen to them lament and I pray with them.

The scripture that says “take up your cross, deny yourself” sounds like a commandment to be a victim. But it is not.

The gospel of Mark doesn't expect followers of Jesus to sacrifice themselves. Jesus demonstrates how to live in the present and coming reign of God, the kingdom of heaven: by feeding the poor; removing demons, preaching in the synagogues; eating with sinners healing the sick no matter if they were old, young, or even gentiles; in other words, alleviating suffering.

So what is all this take up your cross business?

Remember that the Roman cross was like our electric chair. It was the imperial Roman means of execution for slaves and rebels. Anyone who questioned Roman authority was a troublemaker. Jesus certainly did that by reminding people that God is the supreme authority, not Rome. “To take up your cross is specifically to pick up the cross beam, to carry it out to the place of execution, where you will be nailed or tied to it and then hoisted up on the upright pole.

“Take up your cross” wasn't a “general reference to all human suffering. In Mark's time, late first century, followers of Jesus were being persecuted. His gospel encouraged them to stay faithful, because the blessing of God's realm, God's reign on earth, was worth staying faithful for.

“Take up your cross” is not a call to self-sacrifice. In those days, self didn't mean individual; it meant your place in society as a member of a family, class, or occupation. Society was hierarchical; you belonged to your father or your husband or your older brother, just as your father or husband or brother belonged to the emperor. Earlier in Mark, Jesus said that whoever does the will of God is “my mother and brothers and sisters.” Jesus encouraged a new kinship system, a new sort of family that did not belong to the emperor. That's what renouncing self means.

Certainly we are called to be unselfish, to act in loving ways, and to care for one another. But that doesn't mean we are obligated to deprive ourselves of health, sleep, or nourishment to care for someone else. Most of the time, caregivers are better caregivers for having gotten a few hours of sleep or eating a full meal, sitting down.

So taking up your cross isn't about becoming a victim. It's about having the courage to serve Jesus in the face of persecution and opposition. It's about recognizing places where the realm of God is working well, feeding and healing. It's about lamenting the suffering we see, knowing that it is not God's intention for us. It's about having faith in the realm that God is bringing about.

Taking up your cross is about the Spirit who nourishes our souls and reminds us what matters in the world, taking care of others as well as taking care of ourselves. It's about Jesus who came on earth to teach us and challenge us and die for us. It's about God who loves us and blesses us. May we use those blessings to show our love to others and to ourselves. Amen.

1 Wren, Brian, “Telling Truth through Tearful Songs,” Journal for Preachers, lent 2003, p. 23.

2Dewey, Joanna, “ Let Them Renounce Themselves and Take Up Their Cross”: A Feminist Reading of Mark 8:34 in Mark's Social and Narrative World," Biblical Theology Bulletin , 2004. http://www.findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_m0LAL/is_3_34/ai_n6260526.