What didn’t I preach this morning?

I should have been preaching this morning, but after at least 3 clear days my daughter had several seizures and with her dad away on a scout camp, I had to stay home. There were some reserve plans, so I hope they are having a lovely, God-filled morning. I thought I might as well put the preparation work to some use though, so I am posting it here (too long for a FB post). Some notes…we have a relaxed style meeting, often with smaller group discussions or various things. Also, the vast majority of this is storytelling, 2 stories in fact, but for a reason. The stories are in italics to distinguish them.

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I don’t have a group discussion or activity today, but I’ve put crayons/pens and cards on each table. As I talk feel free to doodle, to write down things to think about later, to write or draw prayers, to draw or write a response to the stories I’ll tell, to doodle your questions for Jesus, or list things you are wondering. Take them home or share them with us at the end.

I’m doing this a little differently, I want to read you a letter from a friend. She’s called Joanna, she’s married to a man with a good job, she loves to be surrounded by people, she likes to people watch, to see everything that is happening., she’s easily bored, loves to talk and cooks the most amazing meals. She thinks a lot as well and asks questions, which is probably why I like her. I’m going to leave you with a lot of questions today.

As you can see the letter looks like it’s travelled a long way. It’s certainly rather beat up, and looks as if it’s somehow got burnt….Hmm, what’s this in the envelope….sand…a bit of leaf…. odd. Let’s read what she has to say…

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Dear Carolyn,

I know it has been a while since I wrote, but life has been so busy. It still is, but I need to try and get my thoughts into order. This last week has been…well, maybe that isn’t the best place to start.

You know I told you about this amazing preacher, how he was so straightforward, told stories, and yet absolutely captivated me. Well, since my darling hubby got his new job, I’ve been bored, hardly see him he’s so busy, and it isn’t as if money is an issue now, so when I got chatting to some of the women who follow Jesus around, I realised that I could join them. We’ve been all over the place during the last year or two, but right now we are down near Bethany, just outside Jerusalem.

I thought we would be mainly ignored, that we were there to cook for the men, to sew up their clothes, and keep an eye on the children who turn up wherever we stop. It isn’t like that though. Jesus, well he talks to anyone. When he teaches, we can sit and listen as well as the men. It’s amazing how he talks about God, about Kingdom, about how to live. He makes it all seem so possible. Something for any of us.  He talks as if God is present, as if God’s kingdom is real and imminent. He prays as if he is talking to someone real.  And there’s no side to him, when we travel, he carries the same pack as everyone else, walks in the same dust. He walks alongside us all. We all get a chance to talk to him and ask him questions. He’ll repeat a story, and explain its meaning, but he listens as well.

Mind you, Jesus being so approachable has caused some problems this week. He seems to provoke questions, but this week they are disturbing people. The Pharisees started it, asking him about divorce. I don’t know why they decided to bring that up, but they clearly weren’t happy with his answer. Then there was a rich guy, who asked about eternal life, talked about how he had willingly kept the commandments, and you could see from how Jesus looked at him that he really liked him, but after they spoke quietly a little further, he left looking upset and kicking at the stones on the road.

It’s not just strangers though. Even the 12, those closest to Jesus, have been in the middle of trouble. It started with the children. A whole gang of them as usual, with parents. It was the end of a long day, dinner was almost ready, and Jesus was obviously tired. The 12 tried to send them away. To be honest, I might have done the same thing. But Jesus wasn’t having any of it and he tore strips off them,

“Don’t push these children away. Don’t ever get between them and me. These children are at the very centre of life in the kingdom. Mark this: Unless you accept God’s kingdom in the simplicity of a child, you’ll never get in.” (The Message Mk10:14/15)

And another time Peter, (it would be him!) Peter speaks up about how they’ve given up everything to follow Jesus. I hadn’t heard the beginning of the conversation, but I think it was about how hard it can be to enter God’s Kingdom. That would make sense as it was the same day the rich guy was around. I guess Peter was after reassurance that he would be ‘in’, and he seemed to get it, he started to smile, but then Jesus added a warning about persecution and the first being last.  Peter visibly deflated. It would have been funny if…well, it should have been but it wasn’t.

You’d think that was enough for one week, but it was just the start. Honestly, if I hadn’t been here, I wouldn’t have believed it. All this time we had been making our way towards Jerusalem, which I know was worrying most of us. Maybe that’s why everyone was on edge and things felt uneasy. There was that feeling in the air, and Jerusalem seems the kind of place to bring it to a head, too many important people there. Anyway, this time it was James and John, two more of the 12. You’d think they’d have more sense; they’d heard what was said to Peter, they’ve been with Jesus apparently right from the start and yet they still come out with this nonsense, “Let us sit at your right and left in glory”.

As if! Where do they get off? Why them and not Peter, or Andrew, or Bartholomew, or Thomas? Or for that matter why not Mary? That was how I felt, and how the rest felt when they heard. There was uproar. I don’t know what Jesus had said to them in private when he pulled them aside, but when the other ten had a chance, I thought they were going to start throwing punches. I mean they don’t all get on brilliantly, but they don’t normally argue, and I’ve never seen a fight but this time, I’d swear Peter and Judas were both about to land one. Jesus stopped it though. He stood up, right in the middle of them, and just spoke,

“You’ve observed how godless rulers throw their weight around, and when people get a little power how quickly it goes to their heads. It’s not going to be that way with you. Whoever wants to be great must become a servant. Whoever wants to be first among you must be your slave. That is what the Son of Man has done: He came to serve, not to be served—and then to give away his life in exchange for many who are held hostage.” (Mk10:41-5 The Message)

I can’t get that out of my head. Jesus says ‘Son of Man’ sometimes when talking about himself, and no, he doesn’t ask us to serve him, although we all would. He gives through teaching us, and all those people he speaks with, those he heals, they would all say he had given to them, but …I’m sure he meant a lot more than that. Give his life, those held hostage…a ransom. It made me shiver.

After that, last night, everyone had been quite quiet and thoughtful. There hadn’t been a lot of talking. I’d not felt like it, and it seemed that no one else had either. Peter had sat staring into the fire. Judas had been pacing and running his fingers through his hair. Deep in thought. James and John both seemed awake, sat together but not talking. The rest just huddled down. Come this morning though there was bustle, not just the household, the whole village was running around and shouting. It seemed a bit surreal after yesterday. By the time we set off walking, there was a whole crowd. I saw Jesus speaking to a couple of the 12, pointing, and they ran off in front but met us a little further down the road, with a donkey.

Oh, the noise. I couldn’t think straight it was such a cacophony. Cheers, shouts, singing, it all merged. It became a procession, a carnival, shouting its way down the road. Dancing and running footsteps. Voices loud, clear, happy, excited. Sounds of clapping, cheering. Animal noises as dogs excitedly barked and yapped, other donkeys braying with jubilant heehaws.

And in the middle of the shouting crowd, Jesus sat silently, riding on the donkey.

It was like two worlds. Last night and today. Or the celebrating crowd and Jesus.

As we got nearer to the city the crowds started pulling down palm branches to wave and throwing them along with their cloaks onto the road in front of the donkey. They were shouting Hosanna and Hallelujah. I could hear psalms being sung. It was like nothing I’d seen before. If we still had a king, then this would be how we would welcome him back to his own city.

But would a king ride a donkey?

Would a King expect to serve?

Would a King expect to give his life away?

And who for?

I said I was writing to you to try and get my thoughts in order. I’ve told you everything that’s happened these last few days. No, I haven’t, I forgot about the blind man. Jesus healed him. How could I forget that? He’d been blind from birth apparently. Not anymore. And that’s it, a miracle, but with everything else going on it became just one more thing. It wouldn’t be to that man though. It would be the most important thing in the world to him. The day Jesus changed his life. I can’t get my head around it all. All the questions, all the arguments, all the noise, and Jesus saying “He came to serve, not to be served—and then to give away his life in exchange for many who are held hostage.” And sitting on that Donkey, looking into the distance, separate from the celebration around him. He looked as if he were praying, but he was silent and so intent.

I don’t know what will happen next. I’ll let you know next time I write, but I do hope it won’t be anything bad. I have a weird feeling that Jesus knows exactly what he is doing, that he’s made a choice about how he wants everything to play out. I trust him, but…well, we will see.

Take care of yourself, maybe you can come and join us for Passover, you ought to hear Jesus for yourself.

Love Joanna.

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Well, that was an interesting letter. Joanna saw and heard so much in such a short time. Everything there is in just Mark ch10 and the beginning of ch11.

Sometimes when we read the Bible we read neat little chunks, a single story. Which means we sometimes see it like that, as individual events, each with their own meaning, their own lesson and all tied off neatly with a bow at the end of the story.

But life isn’t like that. We don’t live a series of episodes, each with their own beginning, middle and end. We live with many things going on at once, each overlapping the other. So did all the people in the Bible, including Joanna.
Joanna is caught up in events that we often encounter as individual stories,
Jesus and the Pharisees
Jesus and the Rich Young Ruler
Jesus blessing the Children
Jesus teaching on Entering the Kingdom of God
Jesus teaching about servant leadership and prophesying his death.
Jesus healing the blind man
Jesus entering Jerusalem on Palm Sunday.

But for her, it was just life that week.

Joanna is pondering the words of Jesus, we heard them from the message before, but in the NKJV:

You know that those who are considered rulers over the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones exercise authority over them.  Yet it shall not be so among you; but whoever desires to become great among you shall be your servant. And whoever of you desires to be first shall be slave of all. For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life a ransom for many.” (Mk 10:41-5 NKJV)

Joanna was thinking about all she had seen, and what she knew of Jesus, and wondered what it meant:
For followers of Jesus to be first or last, to serve each other
For the Kingdom of God to be here
For Jesus to be the servant of all
For Jesus to give his life as a ransom for many

What does it mean?

Let’s hear someone else’s thoughts, as he paces and pulls his hair…

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Three years. It’s been three years full of…well full of HIM. You can’t imagine what it has been like to travel with him, live with him, day after day. To hear, see, be a part of the events we thought would change the world. I believed he was Messiah, we all did. We have been waiting so long for Messiah to come and deliver us. We have put up with one attack after another, Egypt, Babylonia, Syria, Seleucid, and now Rome. We have groaned in our bondage and longed for Messiah to rise up and lead us.

But when he came, he didn’t care.

That is the only way I can see it. He could do so much. I’ve seen him heal. I’ve heard him teach. I’ve lived every moment with him for three years. I was there when he raised Lazarus from the dead. I stood at his side as he called “Lazarus, come forth,” and I knew, I knew beyond a doubt that Lazarus would walk from the tomb. I sat in the boat when he called Peter to walk on the water, and again when he calmed the storm that put the fear of God into us all. After the storm, we were even more afraid; who has that power, power over the elements, power over death?

Only now I wonder, who has that power and refuses to use it?

Oh yes, it is all very well feeding a crowd, healing a blind beggar, raising a child, or even a man who has died; but what good does it do? They are just individuals, and usually poor and powerless ones at that. This man can command the wind and the waves. He can heal lepers. He can raise the dead. Demons flee when he speaks. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. And he speaks to the poor, the lonely, those others ignore. A waste. It achieves nothing. He could do this for another 30 years and still the world would be the same.

At first, it was fine. In those early days, I could see a reason for it. Support is important. A groundswell of common people who will form a cheering crowd, who will spread the word, who will give food and money. It was a good opportunity for him to practice speaking and teaching, formulate his message, and plan.

But it can’t stay like that. When I realised we were coming to Jerusalem I hoped he was about to act, to do something. That the Romans and those who appease them would get what they deserve. I hoped he would ride in triumph, be acclaimed and show everyone what we know he can do. Then he rode in on that bloody Donkey. Looking a fool. Surrounded by peasants.

And he has done nothing. Oh yes, he has taught. That is all he seems to do these days. Talk and talk. To be honest I don’t really understand all of it. Even when I think I’ve got it, he has an answer that makes me feel foolish. Like when I suggest selling perfume and giving the money to the poor, he tells me the poor will always be there, but he won’t. He sits in the temple or on the Mount of Olives and teaches. He talks about how to live and about the end times, about the coming Kingdom. Ha! Kingdom won’t come unless he makes it happen, but he doesn’t DO anything. Nothing important. Nothing to show he cares for our nation. Nothing to rid us of the Romans. Instead, he returns to Bethany, to fawning women and disciples hanging on his every word.

Have I wasted these years tramping around after someone who is more interested in the weak and lame, the women and the idiots than those who could really help him bring the Kingdom he preaches?

Either he isn’t Messiah or Messiah doesn’t care about us. Only I’ve seen the power, and I’ve seen him weep with compassion. It doesn’t make sense.

I might be wrong about…everything,
but I’ve had enough.

I can’t continue like this.

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A very different idea of what the Kingdom of God would be.

Judas, as I’ve written him, is wondering about the same things,
about who is important.
about what the Kingdom of God is,
about what Jesus has done and will do,

Both are stories of people who had spent time with Jesus. They are imaginings of biblical events, fictional stories of real people. I’ve spent time telling them like this in order to help us try to picture how it might have been and put ourselves into the story, to think about how we might have reacted.
How we do react.

Joanna and Judas both knew Jesus, had spent a lot of time with him, heard the same teaching, and seen many of the same events, but both saw Jesus very differently.

How do we see Jesus?

Jesus lived God’s Kingdom.
That’s why he taught about it so much.
I think the Kingdom of God is wherever his rule is, so if we are following Jesus then we are also living in the Kingdom of God.

What does that mean to you?

Jesus gave his life as a ransom for many.
To open the Kingdom of God up to us all.
To bring life to us all.
To ransom us.

They didn’t know what Jesus would do.
We do, but we are not at that point of the story yet. We have seen Jesus, listened to him, we have followed the crowds, and waved our palm branches, and we think, we wonder, we ponder…

Maybe, as we approach Easter, this is a good place to be. To be asking ourselves…

What does Jesus mean to us?