Twentieth Sunday After Pentecost
S. Pentecost 20.24 Mark 10:1-16
So there I was… the only Xn in Jerusalem. Well, maybe not the only one, but that’s the way it felt. You’ll be like: “What about the 12 apostles, the 70, his crew of wealthy women and others? How can you say you felt like the only Xn in Jerusalem?”
Well, you weren’t there like I was and that question makes me wonder if you know biblical geography, ‘the lie of the land’ at all? Remember: Jesus grew up in Galilee (very much not Jerusalem, pal!) and all those early disciples were Galileans—and Galilee, how to paint the picture for you? Well, it was positively Appalachian—not like Asheville with prosperous ex-hippie realtors, Biltmore, Blue Ridge Mountain Parkway, and rich college kids thru-hiking the Appalachian Trail (well, before the hurricane ;-(
Nah; Galilee was Appalachian as in those backwoods hollers a’ Kentucky littered with Pentecostal snake-handlers, banjos from “Deliverance” twangin’ away, shacks, meth-heads with few branches on their family tree cookin’ up another batch 😉
A bad neighborhood! That’s what Galilee was, then—especially to us cosmopolitan Jerusalem city slickers, who’d gone to the tony schools, lived in the right neighborhoods, drove the cool cars, had the fine tailors, frequented the best coffee shops, chic restaurants, art galleries.
In short: anyone who had money, class, power was not traipsing around following some backcountry Galilean Messiah—wouldn’t be caught dead admiring him, hanging on his every word, fawning over him like he’s The One, Yahweh come in the flesh to save our sorry selves from our sins.
But; despite being one of those cosmopolitan moneyed elites of old Jerusalem, the first word I heard of him, I just knew, he is The One! The LORD, Jesus! So, like Huck Finn (a novel by another city slicker cosmopolitan elite guy, trying to romanticize and satirize country life all at the same time 😉 I lit out for the territories to see this Jesus for myself. Not a follower. Not a hater. Jesus curious, let’s say…
Also, bored out of my mind with the Jerusalem social scene. Big fish. Small pond. So I thought. Figuring I’d hitchhike to Rome like Jack Kerouac (another Ivy League guy glamorizing the low-life, ruck-sacking around, hooking up with con-men and women of questionable virtue, alt chic curious 😉 Plus, I’d just broken up with my girlfriend and my father had just died, too. At the ripe old age of 20, I was at loose ends. So, when I heard about this miracle working Galilean Messiah, I thought, “Why not?” He sounds better than Kerouac’s Cassady. Besides, all roads lead to Rome, right?
It wasn’t hard to track him down. Rumors of miracles, healings, and teaching that just kind of blew you away—if you were in the right frame of mind to receive it! preceded him—like Hansel and Gretel’s trail of bread crumbs.
I got to Capernaum, but just missed him. The local rabbi said, “Try the trans-Jordan, out where John the Baptist used to do his thing.” And sure enough, that’s where I found him surrounded by a bunch of Pharisees… 🙁
Besides Twain and Kerouac, I’d been reading a lot of Jeremiah at the time, and the scene I came upon on that day seemed straight out of his book. The holy rollers of Jerusalem come asking him questions: about war, money, morals. But they have zero interest in becoming peaceful, prosperous, or good. Nah. If Jesus tells them to cooperate with the Romans, they’d brand him a collaborator and lynch him. If he says fight, till the dying of the light!, they’d brand him a an insurrectionist and jail him. That’s Jerusalem for you!
I arrived on scene just as this slick dude, whom I recognized, from our Jerusalem Country Club—high priced trial lawyer who could sour you on what a lot of golfing money can do for the soul (whose hiking jeans and pullover screamed haute couture, store-bought last week along with the Louis Vuitton rucksack) is going, smooth as silk, “So, tell me Jesus, is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife?”
Jesus, with a twinkle in his eye, barest hint of a smile turning up one corner of his mouth, goes, smoother still: “What did Moses command you?” The guy goes, “Well, that’s the rub, see? Moses commanded a man to write a certificate of divorce and to send her away.” Like he really didn’t wanna divorce his wife—prep school sweethearts, lovely girl, but the Law forces him to! “And ya just gotta obey Moses’ Law, even if you have to sacrifice true love, along the way! Better to be holy than happy, right?” Jesus!
I was about to lose my shtuff! Like Kerouac, I’m not really cool. I run hot, a lot! This particular ambulance chasing lawyer was on his 3rd wife. The 1st one wasn’t “visually generous” enough for his liking. The 2nd dressed too provocatively. The 3rd didn’t have his martini, shaken not stirred, ready the instant he got home from work. Stereotypically Jerusalem, the guy probably doesn’t give a fig for what Moses or Jeremiah or God himself say. Probably he doesn’t believe in God at all! Life’s but a game to him. Religion’s just a way to get what he wants in a way that looks good.
Jesus stays cool. The smile fades, though. The twinkle in his sea-green eyes turns to more of a glare. “Because of your hardness of heart, he wrote you this commandment!” And he reminded us that God made the man and the woman one in Eden to experience his everlasting joy, and losing her, you’re also losing that…
Suddenly, I realized Jesus isn’t really talking to this guy about his 3rd wife. Nah. He’s telling us about himself, the LORD God, as husband to Israel his bride—who is constantly straying and whoring after strange flesh. But Jesus isn’t mad when he says this. He just looked, to me… weary, worn, and sad.
Later that afternoon, these moms are bringing little children to Jesus that he might bless them. But, his disciples rebuke them, shoo them away. And Jesus gets… ticked! He has a temper, too! My kind of Messiah! He says, with heat, “Let the little children come to me and don’t forbid them, for of such is the Kingdom of God! Amen, I say to you: whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it!” And he took them up in his arms, blessed them. And they… beamed.
Kids can deal with a lot, if only, at the end of the day, mom and dad embrace them, and go: “Good boy! Good girl! Love you!” (read Lewis’ ‘The Weight of Glory’). And if the Heavenly Father (whom children recognize, always!) should take them in his arms and declare: “With you I am well pleased!” That’s heaven!
He does that—here, now, for you! By every word of this liturgy going in your ear, his body and blood going in your mouth, he does it. Bask in that! and Peace, surpassing all understanding, will guard your heart and mind (like those Galilean kids) in Christ Jesus. Amen.