Danish Days Sermon - 2009

In Bethlehem, one can walk up to the Church of the Nativity, crawl through the Door of Humility, and walk past one thousand year old icons on the way down to the birthplace of Jesus. The stable of Jesus' birth is now covered with marble, gold, and silver. The decorations are so elaborate that the stable bears no resemblance to how it was when Mary gave birth to her son.

Over the centuries, the ornamentation done to the church is understandable enough; humans love to elaborate on things. We like to make things pretty. After all, we make the cross into a thing of art. It is only natural that we would turn the filthy stable of Jesus' birth into a place of marble and gold. It is innocent enough. However, if one thinks about it, that innocent intention does point to something bigger and more serious.

The more serious thing is that it is the nature of humans to try to improve upon what God has done. In Christ, God has answered the questions about life and living it, but we think we can improve on God's answer. We are wiser and more insightful than those old and archaic Scriptures. The people back then were barbarians. Just read the texts and see some of the crazy things they did.

We have more insight than they had back in Biblical times. After all, we have science and technology on our side. We are sophisticated. We are so wise that we even have better morals than they had back then. We are more compassionate, and we feel good about ourselves because of it.

We tell ourselves this after just leaving a century when more humans were murdered than any other time in human history. We murdered so many because we killed God and put ourselves in his place.

We were able to kill millions because of the advancement of science and technology: the very things we thought would save us. We slaughtered millions because we have been able to tell ourselves that some humans are more human than others.

We take the wisdom of God, and the answers God has given on the cross, and build over them a monument to our own wisdom, insight, taste and sensibilities. In doing so, we cover God with our own answers.

Have you ever heard the term "deconstructionism?" This is a fancy term used in philosophy. It means looking at the questions that are behind the answers one gives.

For example, every one of us is constantly saying something about ourselves even when we do not realize it. We are always giving off messages about who we are, what we believe, what we feel, and what we want. All of these things are answers about the person we are. Deconstructionism in psychology is the attempt to look at the questions that are behind these answers we present.

Usually, if one goes behind what someone presets, the questions most people are asking, without even realizing it, are questions such as, "Am I alone? Am I unloved? Does anyone know me, or care? Do I have worth? Am I valued? Am I accepted, or am I scorned? “For most of us these generally are the questions inside us. It does not matter how pompously or simply we present ourselves; the same questions are inside us.

I am talking about this deconstructionist language because this is what comes to me when I read today's Gospel or readings like it. This Gospel is not like the Sermon on the Mount, where we are taught how to live our faith. Nor is it a parable that gives us a lesson about the meaning of the Kingdom of God. Instead, this text evokes an emotion.

This Gospel reading is chaotic. It is harassed and harried. People are crowding and crushing in on Jesus and the disciples to the point that they are unable to eat. It is hysteria. Jesus and the disciples try to sail to a quiet place for some rest, and the crowd comes running after them. They are pushing and pressing to get a piece of the magic and miracle. They are lost. They are confused. They are displaced. They are like sheep without a shepherd. Jesus sees the crowd and has compassion on them. This line about Jesus' compassion is the key.

St. Mark is not writing this Gospel just for the fun of it. This is not just an intellectual exercise on Mark's part. He is writing because he wants to tell people who Jesus is. The question behind the text and the crowd is, "Who is Jesus? What kind of man is this Son of God? What sort of Savior and Messiah is he?" Jesus is not like the gods of Egypt who were inaccessible. He is not like Caesar or Herod whom the blind and beggar dare not touch. Rather the crowds rush in upon him. They harass him. They strain to touch the fringe of his coat.

Who is Jesus? Mark is telling us that he is approachable. He is a Savior who comes to us. He is a Messiah with compassion who does not distain the outcast, beleaguered, the frail and the weak.

This Christ does not hold that some humans are more human than others are. He accepts those whom society wants to push away, reject, and shove out of sight. This Messiah looks upon the chaotic crowd of desperate people and sees individuals about whom he cares. He looks upon them and sees sheep in need of a shepherd.

This Savior is the answer to the questions that are within us, "Am I alone? Am I unloved? Does anyone know me, or care? Do I have worth? Am I valued? Am I accepted, or am I scorned? "He is the answer to these questions and more for he also answers questions about forgiveness, life, death, salvation and reconciliation.

The tragedy is that too often we cover the answer of the cross with our own answers. The result is always disaster for we blind ourselves to the fact that Mark is telling us that we are the crowd. We are the ones in need of a shepherd. We are lost. We are the ones who cannot find our way. We who think that we are so wise, knowledgeable, sophisticated and have evolved, are the same as those on the shore that day. Without Christ as our shepherd, we fall to pieces as a people, culture, and as individuals.

The crowd came to Jesus with questions not with answers. They came seeking, not explaining. They came rejected, and Christ accepted them. They came injured and Christ healed them. When we honestly look at the questions that drive us, we see that we are the crowd. Mark is telling us who we are, and Christ alone is the answer. We cannot improve upon him.

With this Danish Days theme of celebrating the hospital, we think of healing. Often when Jesus heals, the phrase is, “Your faith has healed you.” However, the better translation is, “Your faith has made you whole.” It is by grace through faith in Christ we are made whole. Christ does it not our science and technology, wisdom and sophistication, or the other things we think make us superior. Nothing we do, construct or lean on can improve upon Christ who is truth, life, and hope through all the ages. Amen.