The
Church That Christ Chooses
Mark
3:13-17, Exodus 19:1-6
October
7, 2012
A Sermon for the FPCCS
Centennial
(Jesus) went up the mountain and called to him
those whom he wanted, and they came to him. And
he appointed twelve, whom he also named apostles, to be with him, and to be sent out to
proclaim the message, and to have authority to cast out demons. So he appointed the twelve: Simon (to whom he gave the name
Peter); James son of Zebedee and
John the brother of James (to whom he gave the name Boanerges, that is, Sons of
Thunder); and Andrew, and Philip,
and Bartholomew, and Matthew, and Thomas, and James son of Alphaeus, and
Thaddaeus, and Simon the Cananaean, and
Judas Iscariot, who betrayed him.
Every
once in a while, somebody takes a survey of Bible knowledge. In our
increasingly secular age, the pollster wants to know what information is still
sticking. Can you name the four Gospels in the New Testament? Can you recite
the Ten Commandments? Do you know how many Psalms there are? As of yesterday,
I have been an ordained preacher for twenty-seven years, so I can get around the
Bible pretty well.
But
the one question where I will always stumble is the question that the Gospel of
Mark answers for us this morning: What are the names of the twelve apostles?
Simon
Peter, James and John. Andrew, Phillip, and Bartholomew. Matthew, Thomas, and
the other James. Thaddaeus, Simon the Canaanean, and Judas Iscariot. There are
twelve of them, just like the twelve tribes of Israel – and I couldn’t name
those either, not without some help. We should be gentle on ourselves. Many of
us past the age of forty can’t remember the three things that we wanted to pick
up in the grocery store.
The
Gospel of Mark makes a list of the twelve apostles, those Jesus appointed to
stay with him. That’s not to say they all stayed with him. They weren’t
perfect. There is Judas, of course. But the other eleven also scattered after
Jesus was arrested. Jesus chose them, and they weren’t perfect.
In
fact, of all the Gospels, Mark is the one who paints the most negative picture
of the twelve. Every time Jesus asked a question, they got it wrong. He taught
them every day, and they never understood. One day, he explained that he would
be crucified in Jerusalem, and they started bickering among themselves. He said,
“What are you arguing about?” And they said, “Lord, which one of us twelve
apostles is the most important?” They didn’t understand him.
Simon
Peter, James and John. Andrew, Phillip, and Bartholomew. Matthew, Thomas, and
the other James. Thaddaeus, Simon the Canaanean, and Judas Iscariot. That is
the list. There are a few things that I want you to notice.
It’s
not a complete list. These are the names of twelve men, and everybody knows
there are more women in church than there are men. That is a statistic to be
proved by looking around. Elsewhere, the New Testament reminds us that some
women followed Jesus and funded the ministry of Jesus out of their own purses.[1] It
never says the men coughed up any money. They argued about money but they
didn’t seem to contribute any. Mark’s list is not complete. Women belong on the
list.
What’s
more, this is not an accurate list. Forget what somebody told you about the
Bible. The Bible does not exactly agree who is on the list.[2]
Matthew copies Mark’s list, but Luke doesn’t mention Thaddaeus. Instead he
mentions a second man named Judas, son of James. And when we get over to the
Gospel of John, he mentions somebody named Nathanael. We don’t even know who
that is. Some of the pious scholars scramble to say things like Thaddaeus,
Judas, and Nathanael are all the same person – but the Bible doesn’t worry
about straightening that out.
The
only time we see anything like all twelve disciples standing still is when
Leonardo DaVinci told them to get on the same side of the table so he could
paint them into his picture!
This
is not a complete list. It is not an accurate list. But let me say it: this is
a diverse list. Sure, Mark tells us about twelve men. In our imaginations, we can
picture them at thirty years old with curly hair. Yet it’s hard to imagine a
group like this ever being convened.
There
are two sets of brothers, Simon and Andrew, James and John. They left behind
their fishing boats and their fathers. Jesus came from the hill country, a
euphemism for “the sticks.” We don’t know anything about Thomas, Thaddaeus, or
James 2.0.
But
we know something about Matthew – a tax collector, a despised collaborator who
worked for the Empire. He swindled his own neighbors to fund the soldiers who
occupied their town. Standing next to him is Simon the Canaanean – a Zealot, a
revolutionary with a dagger under his cloak, ready to take out the tax
collectors like Matthew. And Jesus called both of them to be part of his team.
That would be like inviting Daniel Berrigan and Pat Robertson to the same
Passover Seder. Or seating Grover Nordquist and the Rev. Al Sharpton in the
same church pew.
Not
only that. We are pretty sure that eleven of the disciples came from the
northern territory of Galilee. The twelfth may have been the man from Kerioth –
“ish-Kerioth” or “Iscariot” – Kerioth was a town way down south in Judah. So there
may have been eleven Yankees and Judas the Confederate. Jesus wants them all at
his side. Diverse backgrounds, different political views, distinct geographies
– none of that matters to him, because he chooses them all.
It’s
a photograph of the church. This is what a church is like. Diverse, young, old,
male as well as female, whoever, wherever, however. There is no unanimity in
the group, except as Christ calls them. And that’s the point of it all. Standing
at the center of this new community is Jesus. He is what they hold in common.
OK,
we have two sets of brothers: Peter and Andrew, and James and John. But that
can be awkward. Ever have two brothers who agree on everything? Every national
election, my brother and I cancel each another’s votes.
And
who knows how many of them were married? Earlier this Gospel says Simon Peter
had a mother-in-law. I guess that means he also had a wife. But we don’t know
her name, or how she felt about him quitting the fish business and running
after Jesus. Did they have kids? Did she have to watch them while he
gallivanted around Galilee? It’s almost as if Mark says that family status is irrelevant
when it comes to following Jesus. What matters is that you know that he is
calling you – and that he is giving you work to do.
Now
we get to the heart of the matter. Jesus calls the twelve and gives them
two-fold work: to proclaim his Message and to cast out the demons. The Message
proclaimed was clear: that God is coming close, that God shall rule over earth
as clearly as God rules heaven, and that we must make the necessary adjustments
to welcome God’s ownership of our lives. “Preach the Message,” Jesus says. The
time is right here, God rules over us right now, so change your lives to claim
God’s love.[3]
To
cast out demons is first-century code language for confronting everything that
resists God. If illness twists people out of shape, we must confront it. If
hatred oppresses a human life, we must cast out the hatred. If evil sneaks in,
and entices us to give in to lesser gods, we speak the truth that only the God
of heaven is worthy of allegiance. It is hard work casting out the demons, if
only because they look so respectable. But Jesus gives his people power. He
equips them to work together and make a difference.
This
is what matters. Jesus calls together a bunch of diverse people, with different
backgrounds and different skills. And he says, “Proclaim the authority of God
over all of human life!”
From
this we can extract all kinds of principles. Here’s one: in a diverse group
called “church,” you might not get your way all the time. You might not get
your way at all. Instead we work together to pursue God’s way. The most
important question before the church is always this: What does it mean, in our
place, in our time, that God rules over human lives? What would it look like for
us to build the love of God? To welcome the justice of God? To do the work of
God?
I’ve
noticed that when churches stop asking these questions, they start to fizzle
out. Perhaps they get tangled in personality disputes; the “Sons of Thunder”
start mouthing off rather taking care of the neighborhood, or Matthew the
tax-collector and Simon the revolutionary start plotting harm to one another in
the parking lot. If a church, like any other organization, is merely a human
organization, it can go off the rails in a hundred different ways. And it will
need a Book of Order to keep Christian disciples from beating up on one
another.
But
the true church of Jesus is always more than a human organization. It is a holy
fellowship, commissioned by Jesus to do the work of God. We are God’s tactical
team on this planet. We welcome God’s Breath to fill our lungs, we pray for God’s
Power to push us into action, and we know God’s Spirit will raise our spirits.
Christ infuses his people with his own presence. When we put a bridle on our
own whims, when we submit our willfulness to God’s greater will, the Gospel
Message takes on skin and bones – and the world’s demons can be chased away.
That
is why we are here, my friends. That is why he chooses us. We are part of a
world-wide movement to enflesh the life of Jesus Christ. We are here to love
all the people that Jesus loves. We are here to do the work that Jesus inaugurated.
And to every destructive power that threatens God’s children, we say, “Christ
is risen! Get you gone!”
In
the year 1912, when Mrs. William Gibbons prayed this church into being, when
she discerned that God wanted Presbyterian Christians in this town, she began,
not with a dozen men, but with a dozen or so women. That is because God’s work
is never restricted by who we are; it is only restricted by our unwillingness
to do the work. In a church where Simon Peter and Judas Iscariot serve side by
side, there is room for all of us.
We
don’t have to have faith all figured out in advance. We don’t have to be right
about everything. We don’t have to compel everybody else to agree with us. We
don’t have to worry about who is on the list and who is not, because it is not
our list. It is his list.
So
we gather around his Table to sing that Jesus our Lord is at the center of it
all. In broken bread, we affirm that his steady work of salvaging the world is
the most important work of all. We do this work together, and we do this work
with him. It isn’t easy. Crosses will be handed to us. Betrayers will appear
from time to time. Faith will be tested. Even strong Simon Peter will have
moments when he thinks he is unworthy.
But
here we are, “chosen of the Lord and precious.” We are the church that Christ
chooses. Look around. We are the kind of people that Jesus loves. We are the
ones who bear his love to the world. And if he can love us, he can love
everybody.
©
William G. Carter. All rights reserved.
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