Becoming Disciples
Mark 8:27-38
Proper 19B
September 16, 2012
Proper 19B
September 16, 2012
Rev. John M. Caldwell, PhD
First United Methodist Church
Decorah, IA
First United Methodist Church
Decorah, IA
Our denomination’s
leaders are worried. They’ve been
worried for some time about the health of the United Methodist Church. Ever since the days of John Wesley we’ve kept
track of everything we can count: attendance, membership, baptisms, deaths, class
attendance in Sunday School, number of Sunday School staff, numbers transferred
in and out, members of UMW and on and on.
From time to time we add a new category.
We count and we report. We used
to report every year. Now we’re going to
report every week and bishops and district superintendents will be
watching. They’ll be looking at these
numbers to see if we’re a “vital” congregation.
They’ll be looking at these numbers to see if I’m an effective pastor.
Our denomination’s
leaders are worried. They’re worried
because the United Methodist Church has been shrinking in numbers since the
early sixties. That’s as far as total
numbers of members is concerned. Actually,
the high-water mark of the Methodist Church membership as a percentage of the
total population of the United States was reached in about 1880. We’ve been shrinking ever since.
Our denomination’s
leaders are worried because they can see where this is headed and they don’t
like it. The anxiety of our leaders can
be seen in the steady stream of turn-around strategies coming out of our quadrennial
General Conferences. This anxiety
fosters a nostalgic longing for the movement founded by the mythic figures of a
bygone heroic age. This anxiety trickles
down. It looks for scapegoats.
The pressure will be
on, in ways that it hasn’t been on before, to show an increase in
membership. Each year a certain number
of members die, move away, transfer to other churches, or become inactive. One measure of our vitality will be our
ability to bring in more members than we lose.
There will be other measures, of course, but that will be one of them.
I’ll be the first to
admit that I like numbers that grow. I’m
an American, after all, and we Americans believe deep in our collective souls that
more is better than less, bigger is better than smaller. I like looking out at our sanctuary on a
Sunday morning and seeing the pews filled.
The hymns sound better, for one thing, but it just looks and feels
better, too. We had a hundred forty-five
people in worship last week. We had over
fifty kids in Sunday School. And this
past Wednesday we had fifteen students in Confirmation class. These are good things, all other things being
equal.
But all other things
are not equal.
When we take our
very American anxiety to the gospels we discover that Jesus shows a stunning
lack of concern for numbers and bottom lines.
Take the story in Mark’s gospel that we just heard.
This story marks the
turning point of Mark. Up to this point
Jesus had done some preaching. He had
healed some people. He had drawn some
crowds. He had had a run-in or two with
the religious authorities. He gathered a
small group of men and women around him.
He zigzagged his way back and forth across Galilee between the mostly
Jewish side of the lake and the mostly gentile side of the lake.
Now, however, he and
his disciples are just outside of Caesarea-Philippi, way up in the north. From here they will continually move to the
south, toward Jerusalem and the showdown with the powers that be in Roman
Palestine.
For the first time
he tells his disciples what this showdown will mean: Jesus will die. He will be rejected by the authorities. He will be murdered. And he will rise again on the third day.
This was a shock to
his followers, obviously, since Peter immediately takes him aside to talk him
out of it. Jesus makes it clear,
however, that, however rational and sensible a strategy it may be to avoid this
death, God’s path lies through this death, not around it.
And then Jesus turned
to the crowd and told them, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny
themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” Here are the terms under which they (and we)
may become Jesus’ disciples: First, they
are to deny themselves. That word,
translated “deny,” is only used in one other place in Mark and that is when
Peter denies Jesus. Peter claims to have
no idea who Jesus is or to have any relationship with him. So, to deny ourselves is to give up all sense
of ownership of ourselves. Second, they
are to take up their cross. In the
shadow of the Roman city Caesarea-Philippi this can only mean that being Jesus’
followers will make them enemies of the state.
Third, they are to follow Jesus. He
will deny himself. He will take up his
cross. Those who follow Jesus will do
the same. It’s harsh and hard, but he asks
nothing of us that he does not ask of himself.
The vital and
growing congregation currently gathered around him will surely feel the effects
of the hard line that he is taking. And
it does. In Mark his congregation will
dwindle and shrink until, at the moment of Jesus’ greatest faithfulness, his
congregation will have no members.
All will be scattered. This
will not look good on Jesus’ dashboard.
It’s not what we
expect or even understand. Jesus seems
totally unconcerned with the number of members in his movement. Instead, his whole focus is on walking the
path that God has set before him and in calling others to walk that path with
him.
In the August
newsletter I shared with you that a group of leaders in our congregation had
asked themselves the question, “What does it mean to be a disciple of
Jesus?” I’ve been wrestling with that
question. I eventually came up with a
page-long meditation. One thing became
very clear to me as I worked on this exercise: If I define being a disciple of
Jesus the way he does, then the gap between the life to which Jesus has called
me and the life that I actually live is enormous.
But I have decided
that this is okay. Not that there is a
gap, but that Jesus holds up a definition of discipleship that is beyond me. The standard that Jesus holds up is the one toward
which I commit myself to live. There are
resting places but there is no home between where I am and discipleship as
Jesus describes it. I’d rather have it
that way than to adjust the goal to where I am.
Last week we started
a new Confirmation class. As I said, we
had fifteen students. The class is both
seventh and eighth graders, but that is still big for our church, at least for
recent years. In the normal course of
things in April fifteen young people will join our congregation as professing
members.
But I will tell you
what I told them on Wednesday. I’m not
much more interested in their joining the church than Jesus was in signing up
more members for his movement. I’m not
really interested in membership, the dashboard notwithstanding. I am, however, vitally interested in discipleship. I am vitally interested in their becoming
followers of Jesus. I know this is no
easy thing, but I have decided not to protect them from the summons that Jesus
has issued. Jesus asks of them far more than
they have asked of themselves. We have
promised to accompany them on this baptismal journey of theirs. If we are to keep our promises, we, too, will
have to hear Jesus ask far more of us than we have asked of ourselves. We will have to hear Jesus call us to deny
ourselves, take up our cross and follow him.
This
work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs
3.0 Unported License. To view a copy of this license, visit
http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/ or send a letter to Creative
Commons, 444 Castro Street, Suite 900, Mountain View, California, 94041, USA.
No comments:
Post a Comment