What righteousness means
Commentary
Object:
In our day, “righteousness” is often mistakenly interpreted as “self-righteousness.” This is certainly not what the biblical writers meant. In Esther, her uncle urges her to use her position and influence to stop a genocide aimed at her people. Despite her very justified fears of what the king could do to her if she overstepped her bounds, she puts her clever mind to use and foils the plot. In James, righteousness means getting into a right relationship with God. He reminds his hearers that prayer is most efficacious when we can be bold in coming into God’s presence, as Esther did with the king, and asking for what our community needs. And in Mark, Jesus urges his hearers to remove everything that comes between us and the holiness (righteousness) that God demands.
Each of these passages explores a different aspect of our quest to be God’s people, but they all promise the same result: the power to move others, to change our circumstances and the circumstances of others so that we may live in peace.
Esther 7:1-6, 9-10; 9:20-22
The book of Esther is an allegorical tale illustrating the feelings of the ancient Jews, who had been under constant attack from the superpowers of their age: Assyria, Egypt, and Babylon. The background for the events of the story is that the kingdom David had established fractured in a civil war, with the ten tribes of the northern area becoming Israel and the southern two tribes (plus the priests of the Jerusalem Temple) becoming Judea. Israel fell to Assyria in 778 BCE1, and the ten tribes of the north were carried off, never to be heard from again. Nearly 200 years later, in 597 BCE, Jerusalem was conquered, and most of the upper class -- i.e., the priests, the royal court, craftspeople, and most community leaders [read:the wealthy] -- were deported to Babylon, the capitol of Chaldea (Persia). There, the Jews established an enclave within Babylon where they maintained their own community, not unlike refugees and immigrants the world over. Of course, the children who accompanied their parents in the Exile or who were born in Babylon had no memories of the homeland, and so were more assimilated into Babylonian culture. This is clearly the case with Esther and Mordecai, as Mordecai had become a courtier to the king.
Furthermore, because the people had thought of Yahweh (an approximation of the Hebrew name of God) as being their God, tied to their land, they “fell into deep despair”2 in Exile [seePsalm 137]. This forced them to come to terms with the loss of “the Promised Land” and the everlasting kingdom God had promised to King David. In the process of working through their grief, Yahweh became a universal God (the one and only God, as opposed to a “god of the nations” such as Marduk, the chief of the Babylonian pantheon). They came to the conclusion that God was not to blame for the Exile; rather, they had failed God, and needed to return to the Mosaic Law. Most likely the first chapter of Genesis took its final shape during this period or shortly afterward, thus becoming part of the Torah, the central text of the Jewish faith.3 When Cyrus the Persian conquered Mesopotamia in 538 BCE, the Jews were allowed to return home to worship God. They took this new understanding back with them.
The story of Esther is set in this period. However, Esther’s story is a Yahweh-less one -- the name of God is found nowhere in the story. The ethics of the story are quite aside from any belief in God. It appears that Esther’s family members are thoroughly assimilated into the culture in which they live. This is ironically juxtaposed against Haman’s hatred of the Jews and his plans for their destruction. These Jews are not particularly different from their Babylonian neighbors, so the hatred of Haman toward them is clearly personal.
Now to the story itself. The Greek name for the king involved is Xerxes I (in Hebrew Ahasuerus, in the original language Achashverosh), who ruled the Persian Empire from 486 to 465 BCE. His empire stretched from Macedon (just north of Greece on the Mediterranean mainland) around the Mediterranean through Israel, across Egypt down to the northern border of Ethiopia, east to the border of India, north to Russia and the lower half of the Caspian Sea, and along the southern edge of the Black Sea. It was the largest empire the world had seen up to that date. It was the vastness and luxury of that empire that drove Alexander the Great (son of the king of Macedon) further and further east in his wars of conquest. Alexander wanted the peoples he had conquered to be one people, and as he conquered he required conformity to the Greek way of dress, language, and culture -- until he came to Susa, the Persian capital, and became enamored with all things Persian.
In discussing the Book of Esther, the Jewish Virtual Library says:
This story must be considered an allegory because the events it relates never occurred.... Xerxes did not have a wife named “Vashti,” (or “Esther,” either) then or ever (his wife at this time was Amestris, daughter of a Persian general). However, “Vashti” was the name of an Elamite goddess. “Esther,” too, is the name of a goddess -- it’s Aramaic for “Ishtar,” the chief Babylonian goddess. (“Hadassah,” the name Esther’s family called her, comes from the Babylonian for “bride” and was one of Ishtar’s titles.) “Mordecai” is a form of the Hebrew for “Marduk,” the Babylonians’ chief god. “Haman” comes from the name of the Elamites’ chief god, “Hamman.” The allegory means that Babylonian gods replaced Elamite gods in Susa in the last years of the Assyrian Empire, and it was written at a time when the Macedonians posed the kind of danger to the Jews that the story describes.
Because the story is not historically true, and because there is no direct reference to Jewish Law, the Temple or God, this book was always a bit “iffy” as far as the canon (official accepted books of the Bible) was concerned, either in Judaism or Christianity. Furthermore, the telling of the story uses a good deal of irony and humor in relating the reversals of fate, both for the Jews and their opposition. For these reasons, the book of Esther needs to be read as story rather than theology.
That all said, this is a great story, with moral lessons that need telling, and the humor is the “spoonful of sugar” that helps the lesson “go down” with all ages. It also provides the setting for Purim, the Jewish spring holiday (one month before Passover) in which “gold” is exchanged in the form of chocolate coins wrapped in gold foil and in gifts of both time and money to charity. It is also a time for playing games of chance, in memory of Haman’s casting of lots (dice) to determine the date for the genocide he was plotting for the Jews. And in worship services for Purim, it is customary, for example, to boo, hiss, or sound noisemakers every time Haman’s name is read in the story, thus helping to “blot out the name of Haman.”
This story is about two things: the courage of Esther, and the power of courage.
The women in this story naturally have very little power. Kings in those days could kill a person for looking at them, let alone coming into their presence unsummoned. To refuse to answer the summons of a king is to defy his power, whether the person is female or male. Esther, for example, had no choice when the king decided to find himself a new wife but to present herself at the palace and to give in to the king’s demands. The best she could hope for was that the king would be pleased with her. Escape from the harem was impossible, and even if she were picked to be queen, she would never be free to make her own life choices.
Likewise, the queen was expected to do as she was told. She had been in attendance at the banquet the king was holding. But after dinner the women left the room and retired to the queen’s residence. When the meal was over alcohol was served, and the men partied in their own way. Xerxes’ summons, therefore, puts his wife in an embarrassing position. She is asked to put on her crown and present herself to his party where the men presumably are fairly drunk. In today’s society there has been much speculation on why she refused to appear at his summons, including the suspicion that the king had ordered her to wear only her crown, but there is no hint of that in the book as we have it. But in the ancient Near Eastern societies, it seems probable that she would be the only woman in the room aside from the dancing girls who were standard entertainers at such parties. This summons promises to be laden with embarrassment for her. Queens were not to be “shown off.”
His wife’s refusal embarrasses Xerxes in turn. The men may be shocked at her refusal to appear, or perhaps disappointed; she is said to be remarkably beautiful. His advisors are summoned; does he have legal help in punishing her? Oh yes, he is assured. After all, if the queen is known to have disobeyed the king, then other women will take heart and disobey their husbands, and we can’t have that! So he banishes her from his presence. It is a silly beginning for the story. She didn’t want to be in his presence to begin with; so the punishment is that she cannot come into his presence? Well, yes.
When his anger has finally blown over, his advisors tell him he needs a new queen. They suggest a simple though expensive method for finding one: a beauty pageant that will include every pretty girl who has reached childbearing age (which means any time after the onset of menses, or about the age of twelve). They are brought to the palace, given makeovers, and are then paraded past the king for him to choose a new wife. This clearly reflects the expectations the royal court has of women -- they are there for sexual pleasure and to bear children.
What Xerxes had not expected from this exercise was that he might have a queen who was also intelligent and clever. Esther knows enough to obey her uncle (she is an orphan) and to please Hegai [pronounced heg-eye], the eunuch in charge of the women. So Hegai favored her, seeing to it that she ate well and had seven maids -- the magical number of favor and good luck -- to groom her and dress her royally. Furthermore, she consulted Hegai and followed his instructions when she was called to the king. It all paid off -- Xerxes chose Esther to be his new queen.
Xerxes did not know that Esther was Jewish. Uncle Mordecai had told her not to announce that she was. This may be because of the status of the Jews, brought to Babylon as a conquered people. Or it may be that because the Jews were maintaining their own culture even while in Babylon, they were mistrusted. In this way they were like Hispanic Americans here, who although they have become citizens still keep their own holidays, music, foods, gender expectations, and methods of parenting just as they were in their home country.
Mordecai’s refusal to bow down to the new satrap Haman outraged Haman, who is full of himself. This refusal is said to be because he is a Jew, but there is no Jewish law that says he cannot bow to one who is in a superior position. So it is probable that Haman realizes he cannot put hands on Mordecai alone, because Mordecai had a high status with Xerxes. To go after all of the Jews disguises his vicious intent toward his enemy, and would destroy Mordecai’s entire family.
Mordecai goes to Esther and tells her about the plot against their people. She has already found so much favor with the king that she is his new wife; therefore she can ask the king to refuse the edict Haman wants. But this puts Esther in a potentially deadly position, which she explains to Mordecai (as though, as a courtier, he didn’t know the danger he is putting her in). It is Mordecai’s words that present the author’s message: “Do not think that in the king’s palace you will escape any more than all the other Jews. For if you keep silence at such a time as this, relief and deliverance will rise for the Jews from another quarter, but you and your father’s family will perish. Who knows? Perhaps you have come to royal dignity for just such a time as this” (4:13-14).
This is not necessarily to be taken that God has a destiny for each of us. Esther’s position is unique. But it is the ultimate statement of faith, and a warning also: when pogroms come, when the world decides that we are not only expendable but the source of the world’s pain, do not think that your social position will save you. It may be, however, that you are in the perfect position to save us all, and you must act. Not to kill Haman, but to reveal his evil intent to the king he claims to serve.
This lesson in courage is now being “preached” by popular media. Faced with the possibility of death if we speak up or act, we are told “today is a good day to die,” or alternately “What, you want to live forever?” as the hero/ine leaps forward, weapon drawn, to defend the powerless and defeat the forces of evil. “What if I fail?” is not a bad question, unless we are paralyzed by it.
Once Esther thought it through, she set a nice little trap. She prepared a private banquet for Haman, the king, and herself. In today’s passage, she tells the king what Haman has been up to, drawing up the decree that would have her people -- every one of them, including herself -- dead by nightfall. The king is furious, but rather than act instantly he storms out into the garden to collect himself.
Meanwhile Haman, realizing that he has made an enemy of the queen -- and the king, because he loves Esther -- throws himself on the couch on which she is reclining, begging her for mercy. The king returns and, seeing Haman thrown upon the couch, thinks that Haman is assaulting Esther. Haman is arrested on the spot. His hatred for Mordecai had been so great that he had had a gallows constructed that was 50 cubits high (75 feet). This is ridiculous, and is one of the points of humor in the story. But the revenge that the courtiers exact on Haman is that he should be hanged -- and his sons as well, thus ending his family line -- on the very gallows he had built for Mordecai, who is subsequently given all the honors King Xerxes can bestow, and Queen Esther is admired by one and all. The evil that Haman tried to visit on the Jews of the kingdom is thwarted. And all of this is celebrated in the feast of Purim.
I am reminded, when I read this story, of the writing of Martin Niemoeller, a Protestant pastor and social activist, a member of the Confessional Church movement in Nazi Germany, which protested Hitler’s adoption of the title Führer (which translates as “lord”) and the services of adulation of Hitler in Nazi Germany:
When the Nazis came for the communists,
I remained silent;
I was not a communist.
When they locked up the social democrats,
I remained silent;
I was not a social democrat.
When they came for the trade unionists,
I did not speak out;
I was not a trade unionist.
When they came for the Jews,
I remained silent;
I wasn’t a Jew.
When they came for me,
there was no one left to speak out.
We here in the United States have a constitution that allows us to believe whatever we wish to believe, and the right to freedom of speech so we can try to convince others to believe the same. We are allowed to mock and criticize the president and leaders of our government, our communities, and of our faith groups. This is not the case in other countries, however. In many, for example, it is a crime to turn your back on the political leader, let alone disagree with him or her, and this act alone may result in prison time or even death, because it amounts to treason.
However, even here we have restrictions on our freedom to communicate and criticize our government. The case of Edward Snowden is a prime example. Snowden had access to classified documents that showed that our own government spied on us all and even had wiretaps on the phones of the national leaders of our allies. He came forward with this information, and the result was that he was labeled a traitor and had to leave the country. Only time will tell if his actions will strengthen our democracy. But what is clear is that he had the courage to speak out about practices that undermine the freedom of speech we value, despite threats by our leaders to silence him. This is following in the footsteps of Esther.
So whether this story is about the overturning of old gods by a new order as the Jewish website says, or the overturning of an enemy by a clever woman, or the need for courage in the face of very real threats, it is a rich basis for a sermon.
James 5:13-20
The NRSV labels this passage “The Prayer of Faith.” In it, James tells us that “the prayer of the righteous is powerful and effective” and holds up Elijah’s prayers that God hold back the rain for 3 ½ years and then, when God told him to, he prayed for the rain to return, and it did (see 1 Kings 18:49). It is the last chapter in a letter that outlines how a follower of Jesus should behave. Martin Luther wanted to remove this letter from the scripture for that very reason. He thought that it undermined Paul’s writing in Romans that we are saved by faith, not works. But because it probably was written by the brother of Jesus, who was part of leaders of the early church in Jerusalem, it has remained in our Bible. James’ intent was to remind us that Christians are different from non-Christians, that we care for others and live by the law of Love.
This is a good opportunity to talk about the power of prayer. We know that God holds all the power, but we are bold, as Christians, to go to God with our concerns, asking for intervention in hard circumstances. When we are afraid, we are bold to come to God to be comforted and strengthened. When we are facing our own misdeeds, we can be bold to go before God and confess, knowing that forgiveness and the wisdom to make amends for the bad things we have done will be forthcoming. And when we are elated at good fortune, we are bold to praise and thank God for our circumstances, whether for the strength to have accomplished something or the good luck to have gains rather than losses.
However, we are also aware that there are among us people whose prayers seem somehow more powerful than average. James points out that Elijah was one of those. When Elijah prayed, it was a two-way connection. God heard Elijah, and Elijah heard and obeyed God. The result was, in the eyes of those around him, miraculous. Elijah has been held up as an example of what a prophet and prayer-warrior ought to and can be, an example to us all.
But can we be as powerful as Elijah? For many Christians, wanting to be a powerful person seems to go against what Jesus stood for. After all, Jesus surrendered to his enemies and allowed them to torture him and kill him. There are those who will tell you that “Jesus was meek and mild, and that we ought to be the same. What the world sees as failure is not what God sees. God sees the faithfulness that lies behind that failure.” And there is truth to this. We are not called to succeed, but to be faithful. The answer to our prayers is often blocked by the circumstances of the world we live in, and we have no power over that. But we do have power to claim our relationship to God, and God’s power. Too often we are stumped before we even begin to pray by our unbelief in ourselves. On the other hand, there are those who, having been told that there is no hope for a sick loved one who is at death’s door, will declare that they are waiting for a miracle from God. There are also those who will not use doctors, vaccinations, and medicines because God can heal, and they trust God to take away diabetes, cancer, broken bones, et al.
James lived in a world where the success of medical care was severely limited. There were no antibiotics, surgeries were not done in sterile conditions, and disease was thought to be caused by demons. Infected wounds often led to death. All one could do was to pour oil on them, bandage them, and hope for the best (for an example, see the story of the Good Samaritan). It is in this context that James tells us that in addition to the oils, “the elders of the church” (v. 14) ought to pray. Not pray instead of medical care, but to add prayer to the medicine at their command.
Any good doctor will tell you that the prayers of a pastor before surgery increase the probability of a good outcome. A frightened patient is not a good candidate for surgery, but a positive attitude makes things go more smoothly. I learned this in my stint as a hospital chaplain, and when I entered parish ministry I tried to take communion to any parishioner the day before surgery. I found that this brought great comfort to the entire family, even if the outcome was not good. As one woman said to me, “At least he had communion just the day before he died.”
James is saying something here that gets lost in the translation. The word “salvation” is derived from the Latin salvatio -- to preserve from harm. From the root, salve, we get the general term for healing ointments. Salvation, then, does not mean just being saved from our sins; it means to be healed in every way, inside and out, physically and spiritually. Many people in that day thought that our sins lead to sickness -- and they were right, but not every condition that besets us grows out of our sin. There are those who drive impaired, those who dump chemicals into the groundwater, those who release noxious fumes into the air, those who aim laser lights at the cockpits of planes, those who throw rocks at trains. The resulting injuries are not due to the sins of the victim, but of the perpetrator of bad deeds.
Furthermore, James does not say it is the patient who needs to be righteous, but the healer. This does not mean we must be free of all sin before we pray for others -- no one can claim that and be honest with him/herself. It means to have our face turned toward God. When we look to God for the power to get things done, like Esther, we can expect God to work through us.
However, we do need to confess our sins. The Church has struggled with this down through the ages. Do we confess to a priest? In the midst of the congregation? Do we confess our specific sins, or consign them to the trash heap of “we have failed to do what we ought to do and done what we should not have done”? Do we seek counseling? Go to AA, Al-Anon, or another 12-step group? Write out our sins and then burn the paper? No one can find a completely comfortable and honest way to confess those things that we want no one to know. And no one can find a way to turn away from the past without a thorough, soul-searching confession. James is saying that what makes a person righteous is that hard work. Maybe that explains why some people seem to hear from God on a regular basis and others have so little fruit from their prayers: complete honesty and a willingness to admit that we are not always right.
James knows full well that people wander from the truth. After all, he knew Judas Iscariot -- and Peter. James tells us that it is the responsibility of the congregation to reach out and bring those people back in a loving way. We cannot restore the missing from our churches by sending them a letter at the start of the year saying, “We’ve noticed you haven’t been in church.” It requires a personal touch to restore those who have wandered away, and that touch is most effective when a member of the congregation, rather than the pastor, reaches out to invite them back. If the pastor calls, people can say, “Well, yeah, that’s the job of a pastor, isn’t it?” But if a fellow parishioner comes to see them and issues an invitation, that’s different. Maybe we really do miss them.
Finally, how does this reclaiming of the wanderer “cover a multitude of sins”? The Greek is ambiguous, saying doing so “will save his soul from death and will cover a multitude of sins” (v. 20). The NISB translates this as “the sinner’s soul,” but notes that it could just as well mean that the act of restoring a lost soul will cover the sins of the one who brings back the lost member. Perhaps James is ambiguous because the act of reaching out to one who is lost does both parties this amount of good.
Mark 9:38-50
Today’s reading is an excellent example of the importance of reading the surrounding verses in order to dig out what the author is trying to say, as well as looking at what the other gospels have done with the same passage. If we just plunge into the selected verses without that other work our understanding will not be complete, and we can be lost in the non sequitur of the “cup of water” statement at the end of the section on the other exorcist and wondering whom Jesus might be referring to when he refers to “these little ones” at the beginning of the “Temptations to Sin” section. So we must proceed carefully. To start, we have to back up to vv. 36-37 for context.
In those verses, we discover that the disciples have been arguing among themselves about “who was the greatest.” At the end of the day’s journey, Jesus sits them down and tells them that “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” This is part of the reversal of the social order that is the key to Jesus’ teachings. Just as the rich will be brought down and the destitute will precede them into heaven, those who want status will have to have the attitude of a servant. He then takes a child in his arms and says that “whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me... and the one who sent me.”
It is impossible for us to understand the depth of what Jesus said here. We don’t treat children (usually) in the way that children were treated in the ancient world. Children were considered a blessing from God, and a large family reflected well on a woman. In the days when the Israelites were nomads and farmers, more children meant more hands to do the work. But in Jesus’ time the Romans and the rich had combined to deprive many families of their land -- and when a man has no land to fall back on, a large number of children can become a burden. They have to be fed and clothed, but he has no way to grow their own food -- so they must purchase what they eat, no matter that the family’s income is limited.
Even though the teachings of Judaism considered children a blessing, children could be sold to pay a family’s debts or to provide the necessities of daily living. While the Law provided that a man could punish his children as he saw fit if they were a constant source of chaos or disobedient, this was understood to be an extreme case, and the man would have to consult with the judges. Under the influence of Rome, where men could order their wives to abandon an infant by placing it in a wild area or on a street corner, to be picked up by whomever had pity or a use for a child, when the family could no longer support more mouths to feed there was apparently more of that sort of behavior by Jewish men as well, since there is a famous treatise condemning the practice in the harshest terms.
Children did not have long childhoods in any case. Children of three could help with washing clothes or other simple chores in the home. A child of six could be put to work caring for the younger children or helping in whatever work his father might do. When a boy of 12 made his bar mitzvah, the ceremony began with the words “Today I am a man,” and that was literally true. He would not marry for several more years, but he might very well be betrothed at that age (or even younger, as parents often married their children for material advantage). He would be expected to be learning a trade or looking for work shortly thereafter.
This is still true in the poorer countries around the world. Girls as young as seven or eight are married to men as old as their fathers, and may have three or four children by the time they are the age when first-world girls are in junior high. Boys are stolen by ISIS, Boko Haram, and The Lord’s Army and taught to shoot a gun, pressing them into military-style lives. Children work in sweatshops in poor countries, operating sewing machines by age 10, fitting soles to tennis shoes at age 8. Others help their families by climbing heaping piles of trash in landfills and open burning dumps, collecting things that can be recycled such as cellphones, paper, plastics, and batteries.
While we mostly forbid child labor in the United States, children as young as six or seven can be seen working alongside their parents harvesting our crops, whether they are immigrant laborers or farm children. And child abuse is no respecter of education, region, or socio-economic class.
So when Jesus picks up this child and tells the disciples that any kindness shown to this child is accounted as a kindness to Jesus and therefore also to God, it is a profound thing. So it would be good to include these two verses with the reading for the day, rather than starting with v. 38. Matthew’s gospel, which came later than Mark, does not have this story intruding between the sayings about children and their value in the eyes of God (see Matthew 18:1-7). Luke 9:49-50 has this story following the comments on children, but it does not intrude between the “stumbling block” saying and the comments on children. In fact, Luke places the comment about a millstone around the offender’s neck in a completely different setting, where Jesus is talking about forgiveness and causing others to sin (seeLuke 17:2).
Our reading in Mark assigned for today begins with the disciples telling Jesus that there is someone out there who claims to cast out demons in Jesus’ name. Mark talks about demons or “evil spirits” frequently. Demons were considered to be the cause of many diseases and conditions, and Jesus cast them out constantly. But he forced them to keep silent, because, as Mark says in 1:34, “[the demons] knew him.” This makes it curious that Mark says that the disciples told Jesus that this other man is casting out demons “in your name.” Evidently the man had seen Jesus cast out demons and was trying to make himself as famous as Jesus.
And the other strange thing about this exorcist using Jesus name is this: Did he think he could fool the demons? Yet he was apparently having success, unlike the sons of Sceva, one of the high priests during Paul’s ministry: when they ordered an “evil spirit” out of a man “by the power of the Jesus that Paul calls on,” the demon said, “Jesus I know, and Paul I know; but who are you?” and proceeded to beat them all up and cast them out of the house naked and bruised (Acts 19:11-20).
We can assume he was having success, because Jesus tells the disciples not to stop him because “Whoever is not against us is for us.” This is one of those “glass half-full” sayings. We usually say, “Whoever is not for us is against us,” but this is not Jesus’ approach here. Those other people over there are praying prayers differently from us? They’re not against us. So we will leave them to their prayers. They do baptism in a different manner? They believe something different about communion, or use something other than bread and wine? (In parts of Africa, for example, beer is the drink used, because wine is not produced in most of Africa.) Well, they are not against us; leave them alone.
This is followed by Jesus’ remark that anyone who gives an apostle a cup of water because they “bear the name of Christ will by no means lose the reward.” Jesus is setting a very low bar here. It is very different from the saying in Matthew 7:13, “Enter through the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the road is easy that leads to destruction, and there are many who take it.” But it may be echoed in Matthew 7:1, “Do not judge, so that you may not be judged.” This saying opens the door to admit as many as wish to be inside, not just those we want to have in our fellowships.
Mark goes on to talk about our propensity toward sin. He does it in a series of statements about temptations to sin that are strange to our Western ears, and dangerous in the mind that takes literally everything Jesus is quoted as saying, rather than as metaphor or overstatement in order to make a point. So we must proceed with caution.
First, we are presented with a statement about causing others to sin. Although Jesus says “these little ones,” we could extend that to all innocents everywhere. We need to be certain that we are not putting “stumbling blocks” in front of anyone, of course, but it is an especially heinous thing to mislead the innocent.
Next, we are given three statements that have identical elements: “If your hand causes you to stumble,” “if your foot causes you to stumble,” “if your eye causes you to stumble” then get rid of it, cut it off, pluck it out! Better you should enter the Kingdom of God maimed than that you go to hell intact. This is a dramatic overstatement, often seen in writings in Jesus’ time and place, intended to get our attention. It is also meant to tell us plainly that if we want to be good disciples of Jesus Christ, sacrifice may be necessary. We may have to withdraw from friends whose favorite activity is getting drunk and having sex. We may need to pull away from family members whose attitudes are entirely negative or greedy or violent or critical of others. This can feel as though we are cutting off our own arm, but it is necessary if we are to function as followers of Jesus. Walking away can be so painful that it’s like walking through fire, but we are purified by that fire, too, and made holy.
This is the meaning of the “salt” saying included here. Salt is a chemical that we need in order to live. This is especially critical in hot countries, where people sweat heavily as they do their daily work. The salt that is eliminated when they sweat must be replaced, or they will die.
Salt is also considered to be holy because it kills bacteria. A bad wound will hurt like crazy if you put salt in it, but people do it anyway, knowing that the salt will keep infection at bay. And if you use cast-iron cookware, you never use detergent to clean it, because it will remove the oils that protect the iron and make the pan “stick-free.” You use salt right after you’re done cooking, and it takes the place of detergent, cleaning the pan and keeping the surface oiled. Salt never loses its “saltiness.” The impossibility of that happening is part of the emphasis Jesus puts on our belonging to God, no matter what. But if we lose that connection, if we lose our holiness, what will happen? So we want to stay holy so that we can live in peace.
While some see “the Kingdom of God” as the eternal life we will enjoy in heaven, Mark does not seem to. If we want “in” to the Kingdom of God, we should respond right now, so that our fellowship as followers of Jesus will be as though the Kingdom has already come, which in fact it has if we live at peace.
1 “Before the Common Era,” the new designation for what was previously cited as BC, “Before Christ.” This acknowledges that other cultures have adopted the way we in America designate years, but they have not become followers of Jesus the Christ.
2 See the online Jewish Virtual Library article“The Babylonian Exile.”
3 See the online Jewish Virtual Library article“The Babylonian Exile.”
Each of these passages explores a different aspect of our quest to be God’s people, but they all promise the same result: the power to move others, to change our circumstances and the circumstances of others so that we may live in peace.
Esther 7:1-6, 9-10; 9:20-22
The book of Esther is an allegorical tale illustrating the feelings of the ancient Jews, who had been under constant attack from the superpowers of their age: Assyria, Egypt, and Babylon. The background for the events of the story is that the kingdom David had established fractured in a civil war, with the ten tribes of the northern area becoming Israel and the southern two tribes (plus the priests of the Jerusalem Temple) becoming Judea. Israel fell to Assyria in 778 BCE1, and the ten tribes of the north were carried off, never to be heard from again. Nearly 200 years later, in 597 BCE, Jerusalem was conquered, and most of the upper class -- i.e., the priests, the royal court, craftspeople, and most community leaders [read:the wealthy] -- were deported to Babylon, the capitol of Chaldea (Persia). There, the Jews established an enclave within Babylon where they maintained their own community, not unlike refugees and immigrants the world over. Of course, the children who accompanied their parents in the Exile or who were born in Babylon had no memories of the homeland, and so were more assimilated into Babylonian culture. This is clearly the case with Esther and Mordecai, as Mordecai had become a courtier to the king.
Furthermore, because the people had thought of Yahweh (an approximation of the Hebrew name of God) as being their God, tied to their land, they “fell into deep despair”2 in Exile [seePsalm 137]. This forced them to come to terms with the loss of “the Promised Land” and the everlasting kingdom God had promised to King David. In the process of working through their grief, Yahweh became a universal God (the one and only God, as opposed to a “god of the nations” such as Marduk, the chief of the Babylonian pantheon). They came to the conclusion that God was not to blame for the Exile; rather, they had failed God, and needed to return to the Mosaic Law. Most likely the first chapter of Genesis took its final shape during this period or shortly afterward, thus becoming part of the Torah, the central text of the Jewish faith.3 When Cyrus the Persian conquered Mesopotamia in 538 BCE, the Jews were allowed to return home to worship God. They took this new understanding back with them.
The story of Esther is set in this period. However, Esther’s story is a Yahweh-less one -- the name of God is found nowhere in the story. The ethics of the story are quite aside from any belief in God. It appears that Esther’s family members are thoroughly assimilated into the culture in which they live. This is ironically juxtaposed against Haman’s hatred of the Jews and his plans for their destruction. These Jews are not particularly different from their Babylonian neighbors, so the hatred of Haman toward them is clearly personal.
Now to the story itself. The Greek name for the king involved is Xerxes I (in Hebrew Ahasuerus, in the original language Achashverosh), who ruled the Persian Empire from 486 to 465 BCE. His empire stretched from Macedon (just north of Greece on the Mediterranean mainland) around the Mediterranean through Israel, across Egypt down to the northern border of Ethiopia, east to the border of India, north to Russia and the lower half of the Caspian Sea, and along the southern edge of the Black Sea. It was the largest empire the world had seen up to that date. It was the vastness and luxury of that empire that drove Alexander the Great (son of the king of Macedon) further and further east in his wars of conquest. Alexander wanted the peoples he had conquered to be one people, and as he conquered he required conformity to the Greek way of dress, language, and culture -- until he came to Susa, the Persian capital, and became enamored with all things Persian.
In discussing the Book of Esther, the Jewish Virtual Library says:
This story must be considered an allegory because the events it relates never occurred.... Xerxes did not have a wife named “Vashti,” (or “Esther,” either) then or ever (his wife at this time was Amestris, daughter of a Persian general). However, “Vashti” was the name of an Elamite goddess. “Esther,” too, is the name of a goddess -- it’s Aramaic for “Ishtar,” the chief Babylonian goddess. (“Hadassah,” the name Esther’s family called her, comes from the Babylonian for “bride” and was one of Ishtar’s titles.) “Mordecai” is a form of the Hebrew for “Marduk,” the Babylonians’ chief god. “Haman” comes from the name of the Elamites’ chief god, “Hamman.” The allegory means that Babylonian gods replaced Elamite gods in Susa in the last years of the Assyrian Empire, and it was written at a time when the Macedonians posed the kind of danger to the Jews that the story describes.
Because the story is not historically true, and because there is no direct reference to Jewish Law, the Temple or God, this book was always a bit “iffy” as far as the canon (official accepted books of the Bible) was concerned, either in Judaism or Christianity. Furthermore, the telling of the story uses a good deal of irony and humor in relating the reversals of fate, both for the Jews and their opposition. For these reasons, the book of Esther needs to be read as story rather than theology.
That all said, this is a great story, with moral lessons that need telling, and the humor is the “spoonful of sugar” that helps the lesson “go down” with all ages. It also provides the setting for Purim, the Jewish spring holiday (one month before Passover) in which “gold” is exchanged in the form of chocolate coins wrapped in gold foil and in gifts of both time and money to charity. It is also a time for playing games of chance, in memory of Haman’s casting of lots (dice) to determine the date for the genocide he was plotting for the Jews. And in worship services for Purim, it is customary, for example, to boo, hiss, or sound noisemakers every time Haman’s name is read in the story, thus helping to “blot out the name of Haman.”
This story is about two things: the courage of Esther, and the power of courage.
The women in this story naturally have very little power. Kings in those days could kill a person for looking at them, let alone coming into their presence unsummoned. To refuse to answer the summons of a king is to defy his power, whether the person is female or male. Esther, for example, had no choice when the king decided to find himself a new wife but to present herself at the palace and to give in to the king’s demands. The best she could hope for was that the king would be pleased with her. Escape from the harem was impossible, and even if she were picked to be queen, she would never be free to make her own life choices.
Likewise, the queen was expected to do as she was told. She had been in attendance at the banquet the king was holding. But after dinner the women left the room and retired to the queen’s residence. When the meal was over alcohol was served, and the men partied in their own way. Xerxes’ summons, therefore, puts his wife in an embarrassing position. She is asked to put on her crown and present herself to his party where the men presumably are fairly drunk. In today’s society there has been much speculation on why she refused to appear at his summons, including the suspicion that the king had ordered her to wear only her crown, but there is no hint of that in the book as we have it. But in the ancient Near Eastern societies, it seems probable that she would be the only woman in the room aside from the dancing girls who were standard entertainers at such parties. This summons promises to be laden with embarrassment for her. Queens were not to be “shown off.”
His wife’s refusal embarrasses Xerxes in turn. The men may be shocked at her refusal to appear, or perhaps disappointed; she is said to be remarkably beautiful. His advisors are summoned; does he have legal help in punishing her? Oh yes, he is assured. After all, if the queen is known to have disobeyed the king, then other women will take heart and disobey their husbands, and we can’t have that! So he banishes her from his presence. It is a silly beginning for the story. She didn’t want to be in his presence to begin with; so the punishment is that she cannot come into his presence? Well, yes.
When his anger has finally blown over, his advisors tell him he needs a new queen. They suggest a simple though expensive method for finding one: a beauty pageant that will include every pretty girl who has reached childbearing age (which means any time after the onset of menses, or about the age of twelve). They are brought to the palace, given makeovers, and are then paraded past the king for him to choose a new wife. This clearly reflects the expectations the royal court has of women -- they are there for sexual pleasure and to bear children.
What Xerxes had not expected from this exercise was that he might have a queen who was also intelligent and clever. Esther knows enough to obey her uncle (she is an orphan) and to please Hegai [pronounced heg-eye], the eunuch in charge of the women. So Hegai favored her, seeing to it that she ate well and had seven maids -- the magical number of favor and good luck -- to groom her and dress her royally. Furthermore, she consulted Hegai and followed his instructions when she was called to the king. It all paid off -- Xerxes chose Esther to be his new queen.
Xerxes did not know that Esther was Jewish. Uncle Mordecai had told her not to announce that she was. This may be because of the status of the Jews, brought to Babylon as a conquered people. Or it may be that because the Jews were maintaining their own culture even while in Babylon, they were mistrusted. In this way they were like Hispanic Americans here, who although they have become citizens still keep their own holidays, music, foods, gender expectations, and methods of parenting just as they were in their home country.
Mordecai’s refusal to bow down to the new satrap Haman outraged Haman, who is full of himself. This refusal is said to be because he is a Jew, but there is no Jewish law that says he cannot bow to one who is in a superior position. So it is probable that Haman realizes he cannot put hands on Mordecai alone, because Mordecai had a high status with Xerxes. To go after all of the Jews disguises his vicious intent toward his enemy, and would destroy Mordecai’s entire family.
Mordecai goes to Esther and tells her about the plot against their people. She has already found so much favor with the king that she is his new wife; therefore she can ask the king to refuse the edict Haman wants. But this puts Esther in a potentially deadly position, which she explains to Mordecai (as though, as a courtier, he didn’t know the danger he is putting her in). It is Mordecai’s words that present the author’s message: “Do not think that in the king’s palace you will escape any more than all the other Jews. For if you keep silence at such a time as this, relief and deliverance will rise for the Jews from another quarter, but you and your father’s family will perish. Who knows? Perhaps you have come to royal dignity for just such a time as this” (4:13-14).
This is not necessarily to be taken that God has a destiny for each of us. Esther’s position is unique. But it is the ultimate statement of faith, and a warning also: when pogroms come, when the world decides that we are not only expendable but the source of the world’s pain, do not think that your social position will save you. It may be, however, that you are in the perfect position to save us all, and you must act. Not to kill Haman, but to reveal his evil intent to the king he claims to serve.
This lesson in courage is now being “preached” by popular media. Faced with the possibility of death if we speak up or act, we are told “today is a good day to die,” or alternately “What, you want to live forever?” as the hero/ine leaps forward, weapon drawn, to defend the powerless and defeat the forces of evil. “What if I fail?” is not a bad question, unless we are paralyzed by it.
Once Esther thought it through, she set a nice little trap. She prepared a private banquet for Haman, the king, and herself. In today’s passage, she tells the king what Haman has been up to, drawing up the decree that would have her people -- every one of them, including herself -- dead by nightfall. The king is furious, but rather than act instantly he storms out into the garden to collect himself.
Meanwhile Haman, realizing that he has made an enemy of the queen -- and the king, because he loves Esther -- throws himself on the couch on which she is reclining, begging her for mercy. The king returns and, seeing Haman thrown upon the couch, thinks that Haman is assaulting Esther. Haman is arrested on the spot. His hatred for Mordecai had been so great that he had had a gallows constructed that was 50 cubits high (75 feet). This is ridiculous, and is one of the points of humor in the story. But the revenge that the courtiers exact on Haman is that he should be hanged -- and his sons as well, thus ending his family line -- on the very gallows he had built for Mordecai, who is subsequently given all the honors King Xerxes can bestow, and Queen Esther is admired by one and all. The evil that Haman tried to visit on the Jews of the kingdom is thwarted. And all of this is celebrated in the feast of Purim.
I am reminded, when I read this story, of the writing of Martin Niemoeller, a Protestant pastor and social activist, a member of the Confessional Church movement in Nazi Germany, which protested Hitler’s adoption of the title Führer (which translates as “lord”) and the services of adulation of Hitler in Nazi Germany:
When the Nazis came for the communists,
I remained silent;
I was not a communist.
When they locked up the social democrats,
I remained silent;
I was not a social democrat.
When they came for the trade unionists,
I did not speak out;
I was not a trade unionist.
When they came for the Jews,
I remained silent;
I wasn’t a Jew.
When they came for me,
there was no one left to speak out.
We here in the United States have a constitution that allows us to believe whatever we wish to believe, and the right to freedom of speech so we can try to convince others to believe the same. We are allowed to mock and criticize the president and leaders of our government, our communities, and of our faith groups. This is not the case in other countries, however. In many, for example, it is a crime to turn your back on the political leader, let alone disagree with him or her, and this act alone may result in prison time or even death, because it amounts to treason.
However, even here we have restrictions on our freedom to communicate and criticize our government. The case of Edward Snowden is a prime example. Snowden had access to classified documents that showed that our own government spied on us all and even had wiretaps on the phones of the national leaders of our allies. He came forward with this information, and the result was that he was labeled a traitor and had to leave the country. Only time will tell if his actions will strengthen our democracy. But what is clear is that he had the courage to speak out about practices that undermine the freedom of speech we value, despite threats by our leaders to silence him. This is following in the footsteps of Esther.
So whether this story is about the overturning of old gods by a new order as the Jewish website says, or the overturning of an enemy by a clever woman, or the need for courage in the face of very real threats, it is a rich basis for a sermon.
James 5:13-20
The NRSV labels this passage “The Prayer of Faith.” In it, James tells us that “the prayer of the righteous is powerful and effective” and holds up Elijah’s prayers that God hold back the rain for 3 ½ years and then, when God told him to, he prayed for the rain to return, and it did (see 1 Kings 18:49). It is the last chapter in a letter that outlines how a follower of Jesus should behave. Martin Luther wanted to remove this letter from the scripture for that very reason. He thought that it undermined Paul’s writing in Romans that we are saved by faith, not works. But because it probably was written by the brother of Jesus, who was part of leaders of the early church in Jerusalem, it has remained in our Bible. James’ intent was to remind us that Christians are different from non-Christians, that we care for others and live by the law of Love.
This is a good opportunity to talk about the power of prayer. We know that God holds all the power, but we are bold, as Christians, to go to God with our concerns, asking for intervention in hard circumstances. When we are afraid, we are bold to come to God to be comforted and strengthened. When we are facing our own misdeeds, we can be bold to go before God and confess, knowing that forgiveness and the wisdom to make amends for the bad things we have done will be forthcoming. And when we are elated at good fortune, we are bold to praise and thank God for our circumstances, whether for the strength to have accomplished something or the good luck to have gains rather than losses.
However, we are also aware that there are among us people whose prayers seem somehow more powerful than average. James points out that Elijah was one of those. When Elijah prayed, it was a two-way connection. God heard Elijah, and Elijah heard and obeyed God. The result was, in the eyes of those around him, miraculous. Elijah has been held up as an example of what a prophet and prayer-warrior ought to and can be, an example to us all.
But can we be as powerful as Elijah? For many Christians, wanting to be a powerful person seems to go against what Jesus stood for. After all, Jesus surrendered to his enemies and allowed them to torture him and kill him. There are those who will tell you that “Jesus was meek and mild, and that we ought to be the same. What the world sees as failure is not what God sees. God sees the faithfulness that lies behind that failure.” And there is truth to this. We are not called to succeed, but to be faithful. The answer to our prayers is often blocked by the circumstances of the world we live in, and we have no power over that. But we do have power to claim our relationship to God, and God’s power. Too often we are stumped before we even begin to pray by our unbelief in ourselves. On the other hand, there are those who, having been told that there is no hope for a sick loved one who is at death’s door, will declare that they are waiting for a miracle from God. There are also those who will not use doctors, vaccinations, and medicines because God can heal, and they trust God to take away diabetes, cancer, broken bones, et al.
James lived in a world where the success of medical care was severely limited. There were no antibiotics, surgeries were not done in sterile conditions, and disease was thought to be caused by demons. Infected wounds often led to death. All one could do was to pour oil on them, bandage them, and hope for the best (for an example, see the story of the Good Samaritan). It is in this context that James tells us that in addition to the oils, “the elders of the church” (v. 14) ought to pray. Not pray instead of medical care, but to add prayer to the medicine at their command.
Any good doctor will tell you that the prayers of a pastor before surgery increase the probability of a good outcome. A frightened patient is not a good candidate for surgery, but a positive attitude makes things go more smoothly. I learned this in my stint as a hospital chaplain, and when I entered parish ministry I tried to take communion to any parishioner the day before surgery. I found that this brought great comfort to the entire family, even if the outcome was not good. As one woman said to me, “At least he had communion just the day before he died.”
James is saying something here that gets lost in the translation. The word “salvation” is derived from the Latin salvatio -- to preserve from harm. From the root, salve, we get the general term for healing ointments. Salvation, then, does not mean just being saved from our sins; it means to be healed in every way, inside and out, physically and spiritually. Many people in that day thought that our sins lead to sickness -- and they were right, but not every condition that besets us grows out of our sin. There are those who drive impaired, those who dump chemicals into the groundwater, those who release noxious fumes into the air, those who aim laser lights at the cockpits of planes, those who throw rocks at trains. The resulting injuries are not due to the sins of the victim, but of the perpetrator of bad deeds.
Furthermore, James does not say it is the patient who needs to be righteous, but the healer. This does not mean we must be free of all sin before we pray for others -- no one can claim that and be honest with him/herself. It means to have our face turned toward God. When we look to God for the power to get things done, like Esther, we can expect God to work through us.
However, we do need to confess our sins. The Church has struggled with this down through the ages. Do we confess to a priest? In the midst of the congregation? Do we confess our specific sins, or consign them to the trash heap of “we have failed to do what we ought to do and done what we should not have done”? Do we seek counseling? Go to AA, Al-Anon, or another 12-step group? Write out our sins and then burn the paper? No one can find a completely comfortable and honest way to confess those things that we want no one to know. And no one can find a way to turn away from the past without a thorough, soul-searching confession. James is saying that what makes a person righteous is that hard work. Maybe that explains why some people seem to hear from God on a regular basis and others have so little fruit from their prayers: complete honesty and a willingness to admit that we are not always right.
James knows full well that people wander from the truth. After all, he knew Judas Iscariot -- and Peter. James tells us that it is the responsibility of the congregation to reach out and bring those people back in a loving way. We cannot restore the missing from our churches by sending them a letter at the start of the year saying, “We’ve noticed you haven’t been in church.” It requires a personal touch to restore those who have wandered away, and that touch is most effective when a member of the congregation, rather than the pastor, reaches out to invite them back. If the pastor calls, people can say, “Well, yeah, that’s the job of a pastor, isn’t it?” But if a fellow parishioner comes to see them and issues an invitation, that’s different. Maybe we really do miss them.
Finally, how does this reclaiming of the wanderer “cover a multitude of sins”? The Greek is ambiguous, saying doing so “will save his soul from death and will cover a multitude of sins” (v. 20). The NISB translates this as “the sinner’s soul,” but notes that it could just as well mean that the act of restoring a lost soul will cover the sins of the one who brings back the lost member. Perhaps James is ambiguous because the act of reaching out to one who is lost does both parties this amount of good.
Mark 9:38-50
Today’s reading is an excellent example of the importance of reading the surrounding verses in order to dig out what the author is trying to say, as well as looking at what the other gospels have done with the same passage. If we just plunge into the selected verses without that other work our understanding will not be complete, and we can be lost in the non sequitur of the “cup of water” statement at the end of the section on the other exorcist and wondering whom Jesus might be referring to when he refers to “these little ones” at the beginning of the “Temptations to Sin” section. So we must proceed carefully. To start, we have to back up to vv. 36-37 for context.
In those verses, we discover that the disciples have been arguing among themselves about “who was the greatest.” At the end of the day’s journey, Jesus sits them down and tells them that “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” This is part of the reversal of the social order that is the key to Jesus’ teachings. Just as the rich will be brought down and the destitute will precede them into heaven, those who want status will have to have the attitude of a servant. He then takes a child in his arms and says that “whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me... and the one who sent me.”
It is impossible for us to understand the depth of what Jesus said here. We don’t treat children (usually) in the way that children were treated in the ancient world. Children were considered a blessing from God, and a large family reflected well on a woman. In the days when the Israelites were nomads and farmers, more children meant more hands to do the work. But in Jesus’ time the Romans and the rich had combined to deprive many families of their land -- and when a man has no land to fall back on, a large number of children can become a burden. They have to be fed and clothed, but he has no way to grow their own food -- so they must purchase what they eat, no matter that the family’s income is limited.
Even though the teachings of Judaism considered children a blessing, children could be sold to pay a family’s debts or to provide the necessities of daily living. While the Law provided that a man could punish his children as he saw fit if they were a constant source of chaos or disobedient, this was understood to be an extreme case, and the man would have to consult with the judges. Under the influence of Rome, where men could order their wives to abandon an infant by placing it in a wild area or on a street corner, to be picked up by whomever had pity or a use for a child, when the family could no longer support more mouths to feed there was apparently more of that sort of behavior by Jewish men as well, since there is a famous treatise condemning the practice in the harshest terms.
Children did not have long childhoods in any case. Children of three could help with washing clothes or other simple chores in the home. A child of six could be put to work caring for the younger children or helping in whatever work his father might do. When a boy of 12 made his bar mitzvah, the ceremony began with the words “Today I am a man,” and that was literally true. He would not marry for several more years, but he might very well be betrothed at that age (or even younger, as parents often married their children for material advantage). He would be expected to be learning a trade or looking for work shortly thereafter.
This is still true in the poorer countries around the world. Girls as young as seven or eight are married to men as old as their fathers, and may have three or four children by the time they are the age when first-world girls are in junior high. Boys are stolen by ISIS, Boko Haram, and The Lord’s Army and taught to shoot a gun, pressing them into military-style lives. Children work in sweatshops in poor countries, operating sewing machines by age 10, fitting soles to tennis shoes at age 8. Others help their families by climbing heaping piles of trash in landfills and open burning dumps, collecting things that can be recycled such as cellphones, paper, plastics, and batteries.
While we mostly forbid child labor in the United States, children as young as six or seven can be seen working alongside their parents harvesting our crops, whether they are immigrant laborers or farm children. And child abuse is no respecter of education, region, or socio-economic class.
So when Jesus picks up this child and tells the disciples that any kindness shown to this child is accounted as a kindness to Jesus and therefore also to God, it is a profound thing. So it would be good to include these two verses with the reading for the day, rather than starting with v. 38. Matthew’s gospel, which came later than Mark, does not have this story intruding between the sayings about children and their value in the eyes of God (see Matthew 18:1-7). Luke 9:49-50 has this story following the comments on children, but it does not intrude between the “stumbling block” saying and the comments on children. In fact, Luke places the comment about a millstone around the offender’s neck in a completely different setting, where Jesus is talking about forgiveness and causing others to sin (seeLuke 17:2).
Our reading in Mark assigned for today begins with the disciples telling Jesus that there is someone out there who claims to cast out demons in Jesus’ name. Mark talks about demons or “evil spirits” frequently. Demons were considered to be the cause of many diseases and conditions, and Jesus cast them out constantly. But he forced them to keep silent, because, as Mark says in 1:34, “[the demons] knew him.” This makes it curious that Mark says that the disciples told Jesus that this other man is casting out demons “in your name.” Evidently the man had seen Jesus cast out demons and was trying to make himself as famous as Jesus.
And the other strange thing about this exorcist using Jesus name is this: Did he think he could fool the demons? Yet he was apparently having success, unlike the sons of Sceva, one of the high priests during Paul’s ministry: when they ordered an “evil spirit” out of a man “by the power of the Jesus that Paul calls on,” the demon said, “Jesus I know, and Paul I know; but who are you?” and proceeded to beat them all up and cast them out of the house naked and bruised (Acts 19:11-20).
We can assume he was having success, because Jesus tells the disciples not to stop him because “Whoever is not against us is for us.” This is one of those “glass half-full” sayings. We usually say, “Whoever is not for us is against us,” but this is not Jesus’ approach here. Those other people over there are praying prayers differently from us? They’re not against us. So we will leave them to their prayers. They do baptism in a different manner? They believe something different about communion, or use something other than bread and wine? (In parts of Africa, for example, beer is the drink used, because wine is not produced in most of Africa.) Well, they are not against us; leave them alone.
This is followed by Jesus’ remark that anyone who gives an apostle a cup of water because they “bear the name of Christ will by no means lose the reward.” Jesus is setting a very low bar here. It is very different from the saying in Matthew 7:13, “Enter through the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the road is easy that leads to destruction, and there are many who take it.” But it may be echoed in Matthew 7:1, “Do not judge, so that you may not be judged.” This saying opens the door to admit as many as wish to be inside, not just those we want to have in our fellowships.
Mark goes on to talk about our propensity toward sin. He does it in a series of statements about temptations to sin that are strange to our Western ears, and dangerous in the mind that takes literally everything Jesus is quoted as saying, rather than as metaphor or overstatement in order to make a point. So we must proceed with caution.
First, we are presented with a statement about causing others to sin. Although Jesus says “these little ones,” we could extend that to all innocents everywhere. We need to be certain that we are not putting “stumbling blocks” in front of anyone, of course, but it is an especially heinous thing to mislead the innocent.
Next, we are given three statements that have identical elements: “If your hand causes you to stumble,” “if your foot causes you to stumble,” “if your eye causes you to stumble” then get rid of it, cut it off, pluck it out! Better you should enter the Kingdom of God maimed than that you go to hell intact. This is a dramatic overstatement, often seen in writings in Jesus’ time and place, intended to get our attention. It is also meant to tell us plainly that if we want to be good disciples of Jesus Christ, sacrifice may be necessary. We may have to withdraw from friends whose favorite activity is getting drunk and having sex. We may need to pull away from family members whose attitudes are entirely negative or greedy or violent or critical of others. This can feel as though we are cutting off our own arm, but it is necessary if we are to function as followers of Jesus. Walking away can be so painful that it’s like walking through fire, but we are purified by that fire, too, and made holy.
This is the meaning of the “salt” saying included here. Salt is a chemical that we need in order to live. This is especially critical in hot countries, where people sweat heavily as they do their daily work. The salt that is eliminated when they sweat must be replaced, or they will die.
Salt is also considered to be holy because it kills bacteria. A bad wound will hurt like crazy if you put salt in it, but people do it anyway, knowing that the salt will keep infection at bay. And if you use cast-iron cookware, you never use detergent to clean it, because it will remove the oils that protect the iron and make the pan “stick-free.” You use salt right after you’re done cooking, and it takes the place of detergent, cleaning the pan and keeping the surface oiled. Salt never loses its “saltiness.” The impossibility of that happening is part of the emphasis Jesus puts on our belonging to God, no matter what. But if we lose that connection, if we lose our holiness, what will happen? So we want to stay holy so that we can live in peace.
While some see “the Kingdom of God” as the eternal life we will enjoy in heaven, Mark does not seem to. If we want “in” to the Kingdom of God, we should respond right now, so that our fellowship as followers of Jesus will be as though the Kingdom has already come, which in fact it has if we live at peace.
1 “Before the Common Era,” the new designation for what was previously cited as BC, “Before Christ.” This acknowledges that other cultures have adopted the way we in America designate years, but they have not become followers of Jesus the Christ.
2 See the online Jewish Virtual Library article“The Babylonian Exile.”
3 See the online Jewish Virtual Library article“The Babylonian Exile.”
