25 Oct - What Would We Ask For?

Hebrews 7:23-28; Mark 10:46-52

I’ve told you before, I think, that one way to read scripture is to try and put yourself in it; try and imagine yourself in it. The story of the healing of Bartimaeus is perfect for that exercise. Are you one of the crowd? Are we hushing people, not wanting them to come forward? And are we willing to let Jesus soften our hearts and bring those people forward to him?

Are we Bartimaeus? Are we blind, but we know that we can see…we can sense that there’s something out there? Are we calling to Jesus to have mercy and to heal us so that we can see clearly? Do we have the courage of Bartimaeus to throw the cloak off, get rid of earthly things, and concentrate on what Jesus is calling us to do?

Are we Jesus? Are we standing in front of someone in need, someone in pain, but not assuming we know what they need and are we asking: “what is it you want me to do for you?”

There is no right answer.

For myself, I feel kind of like Bartimaeus. But I’m a little scared to be Bartimaeus because, while he seems totally energetic and 100% on board, jumps in front of Jesus and says “heal me!” I feel overwhelmed and scared when I hear the question “what is it you want me to do for you”, So I know that I need to pray about that and figure out what I’m pushing and pulling from.

My hope is we can be like Bartimaeus. I hope that we can follow Jesus on the way. I hope that we can see what’s around us. And there’s a lot around us that we don’t like to see. There’s homelessness, disease, gun violence, war, domestic violence, abuse – you name it, the list goes on and on and on – the things that we hush. We need to bring them forward. We need to care.

So, I encourage you to pray about this passage. I encourage you to be like Bartimaeus – to be excited, to ask Jesus for mercy and for sight, and to follow him on the way.

Peace,

The Rev. M.E. Eccles, LPC

18 Oct - On The Way

Hebrews 5:1-10; Mark 10:35-45

Followers of Christ

“Faith in Christ is not first of all a matter of having felt something, or having had an experience. It is, rather, the simple willingness to stumble along behind Jesus – a willingness to be behind - - Christ. The Faith is in the following.

You may remember that the earliest name for followers of Jesus, according to the Acts of the Apostles, was: “the People of the Way.” The point is, the imitation of our apprenticeship – the way we got on the journey with Jesus – is not the most crucial matter. The crucial matter is that we are “on the way.”

To be on the way means to be, as a disciple, imitating the moves of the Master, Jesus, in all we do. Wherever you are, whatever you do, you are a disciple of Jesus. Following Jesus is not a matter of learning to do a few religious things – on top of the other things we do, but rather, a matter of doing all that we do, not for ourselves, but for Jesus. That makes for a seismic shift, a change in living, doesn’t it!

That’s surely why Jesus parables are stories about real life, and his teaching is about matters like anger, forgiveness, ordinary injustice, disappointment – the “stuff” of real life. Surely Jesus meant for us to follow him now, in this life, not just some other, far away time and place. And the world is right in judging Jesus, based on the sort of lives he produces. The only proof we have, the acid test for the validity of the gospel, is whether or not it is capable of changing lives, producing lives that are a credit to Jesus, the Master, to whom we are apprenticed.”

Peace,

Fr. Bob +

11 Oct - Sharper Than A Two-edged Sword

Hebrews 4:12-16; Mark 10:17-31

“Then who can be saved?” they asked Jesus.

How often we ask ourselves that very question. Oh yes, day to day we put on a good face and project an image of confidence to the world around us. Like the man in today’s gospel reading who seeks Jesus to ask how he might inherit eternal life, we like to believe we know all the answers and have done all the right things.

Jesus asserts that when the rubber meets the road, one must give it all away and follow him; but that strikes us as simply impossible. And like the man in the story, we are shocked and go away unhappy at best, frustrated and defeated at worst.

How true are the words from Hebrews:

“The word of God is living and active, sharper that any two-edged sword, piercing until it divides soul from spirit, joints from marrow; it is able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart. Before him no creature is hidden, but all are naked and laid bare to the eyes of the one to whom we must render an account.”

Deep down inside we know this to be absolutely true. We just wish Jesus, the Word made flesh, would save his ability to judge our thoughts and intentions for someone else. Anyone else.

Perhaps this can lead us to a closer understanding of what Jesus answers when they ask, “Who then can be saved?”

“For mortals it is impossible, but not for God; for God all things are possible.”

Drawing near to God seems to be the best way to make the journey. In the end, the meaning of life cannot be learned or understood. What is needed is fidelity to a way of living that transcends understanding.

The Rev. Kirk Alan Kubicek, rector of St. Peter's Church in Ellicott City, MD

4 Oct - Let The Children Come To Me

Hebrews 1:1-4, 2:5-12; Mark 10:2-16

What are the roots, the building blocks of your faith? In reading through the rich treasure of readings for last Sunday, the final part of the Gospel lesson caught my attention. Jesus has finished a long discussion with the Pharisees and his disciples about marriage and divorce. People are bringing children to him, so that he can touch them. The disciples object and speak sternly to them. Angered by their response, Jesus says to them, “Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs.” Then he gathers the children up in his arms and blesses them. “Let the little children come to me. . .” Those words evoked a strong childhood memory of hearing those words, probably in a Sunday School class As a small child, surrounded by a world where grownups were the important people and could do all kinds of things that I couldn’t, those words assured me. Children were valued. Children had a place in the world. Those words gave me an image of Jesus as someone who loved and welcomed children. It wasn’t much of a leap to figure out that, if Jesus welcomed children, he welcomed lots of other people as well.

As I have reflected on the memory of that childhood experience of the phrase from the Gospel of Mark, I am struck by how important such experiences are. They take root in us and thrive. They form a foundation for our faith, as we continue on in our journey into adulthood and old age. In my ministry as a hospice I spend a lot of time with people with dementia and with people who are so weak that they cannot communicate very well, if at all. When I read Scripture to them, especially the King James version of the 23rd Psalm, often they will respond. People who are confused and can barely put together a coherent sentence, will say along with me, “The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not want. . .” I have a similar experience when I say the Lord’s Prayer with these people. From somewhere deep within, those people call up their earliest experiences, the deep roots of their faith.

The roots come from other sources besides early religious training and other formal education. The building blocks of our faith come from all kinds of experience: experiences in our families, in the community where we grew up, in our travels. We learn by observing others. We learn from our own actions, by taking risks and succeeding, by taking risks and failing.

I invite you to reflect on your own life, your own experiences—especially ones from your childhood. Try to identify the deep roots of your faith.

Peace,

Deacon Sue