The Now and the Not Yet (Mark 9.2-29)

Introduction

A few years ago, I drove the car into a car wash. It was after quite a lot of snow, so I opted for the most expensive programme including a jet clean under the car body to wash off all the salt from the road.

Bad mistake! As soon as I drove it onto the main road I knew it wasn’t right. Dashboard lights started flickering. The car kept losing power. Finally, a week later, it slowed to a complete halt and I had to be towed home. If only I had hosed it down myself, it would have taken 15 minutes. I would have saved £5 on the car wash and about £300 on breakdown service and repairs.

I thought I was going to have a shiny, gleaming car, looking good as new for a fiver. In fact, water had got into the electrical circuit, and I ended up with feeling nervous on the roads, and with a nasty shock financially.

Anyone who follows Jesus is going to experience times like that when they say, “Lord, this has not turned out like I thought it would. When I came to faith, I was overwhelmed with joy. Everything was so amazing. I had a new spring in my step. Everything made sense. You answered my prayers on a daily basis. But now, to be honest, I feel a bit let down.”

Ups and Downs

The fact is that following Jesus, without exception,  involves ups and downs, highs and lows.

There are highs - undeniably. I’ve seen people healed before my eyes. I’ve seen demons driven out of people. I’ve seen prophetic ministry so accurate I actually felt scared. I’ve tasted heaven in worship. I’ve seen jaw-dropping and almost instant answers to prayer. I’ve seen God provide in miraculous ways.

But I’ve lived through some lows too. There have been times when heaven’s door seemed firmly shut in my face and bolted fast. Some days, I’ve prayed desperately but found no one home. I’ve watched people I prayed with real faith for – die. There have been times I’ve been so low and discouraged that I honestly worried that I might never come up again.

Sometimes our experience of heaven is now. Sometimes it’s very definitely not yet.

For those who have been baptized today – this is one of the highs! Praise God, and they will have many, many more. God will bless them over and over again. But they will have lows too. I guarantee it.

Ups and downs; this is what the Bible teaches. If some flashy evangelist or smarmy preacher on YouTube promises you undimmed happiness and permanent bliss he or she is lying to you.

If you want the truth, Paul says in Ephesians 1, “We have… the riches of God’s grace… lavished on us.” But in 2 Timothy 3, he says “Everyone who wants to live a godly life will be persecuted.”

If you want the truth, Peter says in 1 Peter 1 “[God] has given us new birth… an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade… in this you greatly rejoice.” But three chapters later he says, “Do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal that has come on you… as though something strange were happening to you.”

Supremely, Jesus tells you the truth. “Come to me all you who are heavy laden, and I will give you rest,” he says. But he also says, “In this world, you will have big trouble.”

The Highs

This is what today’s reading is all about. The first half is about an awesomely stunning event, even by the exalted and breathtaking standards of Jesus’ public ministry. It’s an encounter from another realm.

Here’s what happens: Jesus takes three key leaders Peter, James and John up a high mountain. As they go up, they’re thinking, “This is going to be cool. We’ll see for miles and miles up there. We’ll take in a great panorama of the whole of northern Israel.” But they get more than they bargain for.

What happens up there totally blows their minds. Jesus becomes transfigured before their eyes. One moment they’re looking at him, just like you’re looking at me, and the next moment the appearance of his face changes, and his clothes become overpoweringly radiant.

And this near-blinding light shines not on Jesus but through him. It says the light is dazzling white. You can’t make anything brighter. It is overwhelmingly intense. It is strange and otherworldly. It is stunningly glorious.

You’d think something like that would make a lasting impression on those who were there - and it did. Two of them, Peter and John wrote about it decades later.

Some 30 years after the event, Peter describes in vivid detail what he saw. “We were eye-witnesses of his majesty” he says. “He received honour and glory from God the Father when the voice came to him from the Majestic Glory, saying, ‘This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased’.”

Then John, about 50 years after the event is still talking about it: “The true light that gives light to everyone [came] into the world” he says. “We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.”

We were eyewitnesses. We were there. We saw it with our own eyes.

But that’s not all. After the light show, it gets weirder. Two legends from the Old Testament, Moses and Elijah, appear from nowhere and start talking with Jesus.

How did anyone know it was Moses and Elijah? I’ve always wondered that. Did they have ID badges or security passes or t-shirts with their names on? These guys were dead centuries ago! How did anyone know it was them?

The technical, theological term for it is they just did. People sometimes ask, “How will I recognise so and so in heaven? They died so long ago.” Or “I never knew them personally.” You’ll just know.

We’ll know who Paul is, who Mary is, who Peter is, and we’ll certainly know who Jesus is. I believe I’ll instantly be able to identify the four babies we lost before they were born. Three miscarriages; once with twins. I’ll know who they are straight away.

Why Moses? Moses represents the law, which shows us how sinful we are, and how much we need to be saved. Why Elijah? Elijah represents the prophets. And the prophets point to the one who would bring salvation. With those two men, you have a summary of the whole point of Jesus’ mission on earth.

This is already the strangest of all spiritual experiences. But we’re not done yet. Because while all this is going on, the cloud of God’s presence descends. This is the cloud that filled the temple in Solomon’s time, that was so glorious, so awe-inspiring, so powerful, that nobody could do their work. Everybody had to stop.

Peter doesn’t know what to do. And Peter being Peter, he can’t just watch. He’s an extrovert so he has to externalise; he thinks by talking. He has to say something even if it’s the stupidest thing ever – which in fact it is. Here’s what he comes out with; “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here. Let us make three shelters, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.”

He’s just spurting out the first thing that comes into his skull because he’s officially freaked out.

But subconsciously, he’s doing what we usually want to do during a spiritual high. We want to hang on to the feeling forever. We try and capture it.

Peter is saying, “This is huge! I love this! John and James are so great to have around. I get on well with them. I know! We could start a brand new Life Group, up here. And Jesus, I’m sure I speak for the others, when I say, we’d love to have you lead our new Life Group.

James can light a campfire. And John can make the tea. Moses can answer all our theological questions about the Old Testament. Elijah can lead the prayer time. And I’ll order some tents from Millets online, and get them delivered up here. We can hang out together.  

And we don’t even need torches – Jesus, you’re easily bright enough, really dazzling in fact. So why don’t we just stay right here and keep this to ourselves?”

Some of you have been to Soul Survivor or New Wine or Spring Harvest or Keswick. How did it go? “Oh, it was amazing!” What was amazing about it? “Oh, the worship, the teaching, the sense of community, the fun, even the camping. Best of all, the wait for the toilets was excellent…”

It meant so much to you, and God blessed your life. Now, you want to relive it every day.  

That’s where Peter’s coming from. And just when they think it can’t get any better, they actually hear God’s voice audibly. Wow! The whole thing is breathtaking.

What does the voice say? “This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to him!”

You should highlight and underline that in your Bible. Listen to Jesus. Don’t listen to people who want to confuse you with trendy philosophies, alternative views and half-truths, and worldly so-called wisdom. Don’t listen to the devil. Put him on permanent mute.

Don’t listen to false teachers. And don’t listen to all the critics. Jesus has the words of eternal life. Listen to him.

Jesus is not just a great teacher alongside Socrates or Gandhi. Jesus is not just another prophet alongside Mohammed or Confucius. Jesus is in a completely different category. He is the image of the invisible God. Listen to him.

It doesn’t matter what the celebrities say, what world leaders say, what religious people say, or what the opinion polls say about Jesus. Who cares? What does God the Father say about Jesus? “This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to him!”  

The Lows

But, just like the disciples, who have to come down from the mountain, whenever you have a spiritual high, there comes a time when you also must descend.

Why? Because while mountaintop experiences inspire us, only the valley matures us. God wants you mature.

For Peter, James and John, everything goes downhill from this point on – literally. And there are some tough realities awaiting them down there. Impotence, failure, ineffectiveness, embarrassment, humiliation…

What happens when they get to the valley?

They find themselves surrounded by a crowd which includes mischief-makers and cynics. Verse14 says that certain elements are picking a quarrel, telling everyone how useless the disciples are.

It’s nothing new. These days, argumentative people say things like:

·         Faith should only be a private matter

·         Christians are hateful bigots

·         Teaching children about God is child abuse

·         God is a delusion

·         Wars are caused by organised religion

The truth is that organised religion is not and never was the answer to the world’s problems.

But organised religion is not what Jesus came to bring. He came to set prisoners free, to change violent people into kind people, to restore messed-up lives and mend broken families. And when people meet Jesus everything changes.

As a church leader, from time to time, I get requests to go and investigate and deal with some kind of paranormal complaint.

Usually, it’s a house in which there are reports of strange goings on, such as lights coming on all by themselves or objects that are inexplicably moved overnight. Several times I have been asked to see individuals who have become disturbed having dabbled with something evil like the occult.

What we read about in the Gospel earlier seems to be a particularly disturbing case like this.

There is a father agonising over his son. Imagine being a parent of a child with seizures like this near fire and water, whose body is covered with burns and scars. And occasionally he’s robbed of speech, so he can’t cry for help if he’s burning or drowning. You don’t know when the demon might attack. It’s terrifying! There appears to be no hope and no relief. Parents, this is your worst nightmare, right here.

The disciples attempt to sort it out, giving it their best shot, but they are out of their depth and basically, whatever they try it doesn’t work. You know that helpless feeling when everything you do makes things worse?

But the Bible says in v15 that when the people see Jesus, they are overwhelmed with wonder. There is something about Jesus that just sets him above everyone else. When he is around anything is possible.

People sometimes think when everything is falling apart around them that God should sort it all out. Why doesn’t God come down and do something?! But actually, that’s the wrong way round. It’s not that God should come to us, it’s that we should go to God. What does Jesus say? “Bring the boy to me.” He wants you and me to go to him.

The boy’s father is at the end of his rope. “If you can do anything, then please help us,” he says to Jesus.

Jesus replies “What’s with the if? Everything is possible for the one who believes.” And you can see that the man is torn. “I do have some faith but…”

How would he answer an opinion poll on religious belief? Probably somewhere between “I believe in something but I am not sure what” and “I’m an agnostic who’s genuinely open.”

So he says, “Look, I do believe. Help me overcome my unbelief.”

Is that enough faith? What do you think? How much faith do you need? In “the not yet” we don’t always have as much as we’d like to have.

How would you answer that opinion poll? If you would say you’re on a journey but haven’t arrived yet, be encouraged by this man.

How much faith does he have? Not much. He’s wavering. “Honestly, I’m not all there yet,” he says. But that is enough for Jesus to work with because crucially he says, “Help me overcome my unbelief.”

He is honest and open to grow. Come to Jesus Christ with a hungry heart and an open mind, and with the little faith you have.

Jesus is prepared to go with his hesitant faith because he is not content to stay where he is. Everything… is possible… for one who believes.

Jesus deals with the situation with a word of authority. That’s all it takes. Then it all kicks off. There’s chaos. There’s noise. There’s violence. There’s mess. There’s drama. And then there’s peace. That’s what God does. That’s his trade; bringing order out of chaos since forever.

Ending

As I end, I want to come back to the disciples. Out of their depth. Powerless. Ineffectual.

You’ve got to feel for them, haven’t you? Not only do they fail spectacularly and publicly to make any difference for this boy, when Jesus arrives he shows his exasperation at them for being so ineffective.

“Why couldn’t we drive the evil spirit out?” Good question. In chapter 6 they were doing it for fun. Jesus gave them authority and sent them out. It says “they went out and preached that people should repent. They drove out many demons and anointed with oil many people who were ill and healed them.”

So why does it all go wrong this time? They had become cocky and self-sufficient. “We can do this. We’ve got this covered. We’ve done a course on casting out demons and we all passed the exam. Stand aside and let the experts take care of this.”

“This kind can only come out by prayer,” Jesus says. “You should have talked to God before you made a mess of things. That’s why you failed.”

They were forgetting that the secret of power in ministry comes from prayer. As the 19^th Century preacher Charles Spurgeon said, “Prayer is the slender nerve that moves the muscle of omnipotence.”

I don’t pray when I am the lord of my life. What’s the point of prayer? I am so awesome. I can manage just fine on my own. When I am god of my own life I’ll never pray at all.

But without Jesus, you don’t have any power, or any authority – and nor do I. Jesus says, “Apart from me, you can do nothing.”

Let’s stand…

Sermon preached at All Saints' Preston on Tees, 29 October 2017

New Ground (Mark 7.24-37)

Introduction

- I never forget a face, but in your case, I’m willing to make an exception. 

- My psychiatrist told me I was mad. I said I wanted a second opinion. He said “You're ugly too.”

- If ignorance is bliss, you must be the happiest person on earth.

- Two wrongs don't make a right - take your parents as an example.

- I can always tell when you’re lying. Your lips move.

One-liner put downs; usually we enjoy them but, to be honest, maybe we feel a bit guilty about it. And if we do feel guilty perhaps it’s because we think, as Christians, that we shouldn’t be getting pleasure from someone else’s humiliation.

So when we read Mark 7.27, as we did a few moments ago, I suspect most of us feel quite uncomfortable. Did I read that right? Did something get lost in translation? Did Jesus really just call that woman “a dog”? Surely not!

Background

We’ll come back to that, but first, let’s set today’s reading in context.

For the first time in Mark’s Gospel, Jesus leaves the region around the Sea of Galilee; a land that is almost entirely made up of small Jewish communities. Now, starting in v24, he moves out into new ground, a place he's never been before, where only Gentiles live. 

He travels with his disciples to a place called Tyre, which is about 30 miles to the north, in modern-day Lebanon. 

Tyre was a wealthy trading port and its prosperity fuelled a culture of excess. People from there worshipped gaudy idols, they lived promiscuous lives, they ruled with an iron fist, they were corrupt and unjust traders, and everyone saw them as arrogant and proud. 

Let me quote a few words about Tyre from Ezekiel 28. “In much buying and selling you became violent... Your beauty went to your head... Your heart is arrogant, going around saying, 'I’m a god. I sit on the throne of a god in the heart of the seas' …. because of your great wealth your heart has grown proud...”

The Jews hated these people; they felt they were utterly beyond the pale - and the feeling was mutual. It was like the enmity you find today between Israelis and Palestinians.

So what is Jesus doing in a place like this? Basically, he has little choice. Everywhere he goes in Jewish territory, he’s in trouble. He’s doubted by his own family and rejected by his home town. He’s opposed by his own religious authorities. 

And he’s accompanied by twelve disciples who are so slow-witted he would have been better off with a dozen scarecrows from eBay, so they're not much help either.

Jesus is starting to seriously make enemies. He is taking the entire elaborate system of man-made religion, with all its vested interests, that dominated his day, and he is blowing it apart. He’s becoming a marked man for the powers that be. And the net is starting to close in. You can see why he had to get away for a bit.

1. The Syro-Phoenician Woman

That's why it says in v24 “Jesus entered a house in the vicinity of Tyre and did not want anyone to know it.” He wants to lie low away from the tinderbox atmosphere of his home land.

You know what it’s like when you’ve had a difficult day at work, and a stressful journey home, and just when you get back to a bit of peace and quiet, the washing machine leaks all over the kitchen floor, the phone rings, and the Jehovah’s Witnesses knock at the door? Have you had days like that? This is what happens here. Sort of. 

Jesus and his disciples, remember, have been at it non-stop. Every time they plan a break, someone turns up with a pressing need. “Fix this, mend that, help my child, feed this crowd, heal my dad, cure my wife…” On top of that, they’ve just walked all day on a dusty country road. 

But even here Jesus cannot keep his presence secret. As soon as she hears Jesus is in town, a needy woman with a troubled daughter tracks him down, knocks at the door, walks right in, falls at his feet, tells him her story, unloads all her problems on him, and pleads, and begs, and implores Jesus to get up, put his shoes and coat back on, and head off with her, and sort it all out. 

Matthew’s Gospel says the little girl was “suffering terribly.” Is there any human pain more excruciating than watching your own children endure terrible suffering? I can remember my kids with tears running down their sweet faces because they were being bullied at school. I know how heartbreaking that is. I would do anything to change their world and make it right. 

This little girl is deeply troubled, oppressed and afflicted. There’s demonic heaviness and darkness and the shadow of evil - and whatever her desperate mother tries, she can't fix it, nothing works. How long has this poor woman carried her daughter’s pain in her heart?

So, (v25) she falls at Jesus’ feet and (v26) begs him to help. And Jesus says “no.” In fact, in Matthew’s version, we read at first that he says nothing to her at all. He responds by ignoring her. He just blanks her. This is not the Jesus we know! What’s going on?

Have you ever prayed, and prayed, and prayed, and agonised before the Lord about something that has been very important to you and been met with a deafening silence from heaven? Have you ever felt that in answer to your best prayers God just does nothing? Have you ever given up bothering to pray because God seems to ignore you?  

In fact, Jesus doesn’t actually say “no.” But it would almost be easier for us if he did. Instead, we have one of the most baffling sayings of Jesus in all four Gospels. It’s not a misprint; Matthew records exactly the same thing. The one thing you can say is that this is surely proof that the Gospels are authentic and factual, because no one would have made up what follows.

Jesus says in v27, “First, let the children eat all they want, for it is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to the dogs.” I’ve looked that up in all the versions. Even in The Message, it's the same. 

 “The children get fed first. If there’s any left over, the dogs get it.” If anything, in The Message it sounds slightly worse!

We like dogs. We call them “man’s best friend.” They're loyal and friendly. We put their pictures on Facebook and talk about them as if they were human sometimes. In fact, let’s put some pictures up of some really nice dogs… Say “ah” if you think they're cute.... 

We love dogs. But in the Middle-East, in Jesus’ day, calling someone a dog was a term of contempt and it still is; it’s an insult because most dogs there are flea-ridden mongrels. 

When the Jews looked down on the Gentiles and called them dogs, this is what they meant. 

That’s why at the start of this chapter they obsessed about washing their hands because they had been near Gentiles who were considered unclean. You had to get rid of the contamination. Except, you’ll remember from last week, that Jesus and his followers didn’t do that. 

The word Jesus uses is not kuon, which is your common street dog, scavenging around bins and rubbish tips, but kunarion, which means a smaller, cute family pet.

We actually use dog language today in totally inoffensive ways. We all know people of a certain age who will never get computerised and we say, “well, you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.” It's a metaphor. We don't take it as directly insulting or offensive. Jesus' remark is similarly indirect; it's not like he says “You're a dog, madam, get lost.”

But, let’s be honest, this is still a difficult word and with an apparent coldness so uncharacteristic of Jesus.

What's this all about? He is telling the hard truth about the community this woman belonged to. They were estranged from God. They were lost in their idolatries and superstitions. They hated God’s people and were proud of it. They were cut off from God’s promises and didn’t care. Their arrogance and self-sufficiency and vanity were what these people were known for. 

This is the key to why Jesus talks to her in the way he does. He wants to know if she is willing to distance herself from the pride of her people and come to God, poor in spirit.

And the answer is yes. She accepts as true what Jesus says about her pagan background. 

The greatness of her faith is shown by the fact that she not only recognises who Jesus is (she calls him Lord), but she refuses to take “no” for an answer, and won't go home empty-handed. Like Jacob in Genesis 32, her attitude is “I will not let you go until you bless me.”

Jesus loves the meekness of her reply; “Lord, if it’s from your table, I’ll take the scraps. That’ll be all I need.”

There’s a very old and beautiful prayer we say sometimes before Holy Communion and it comes from this story. Some of you know it.

“We do not presume to come to this your table, merciful Lord,

trusting in our own righteousness, but in your manifold and great mercies. We are not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs under your table. But you are the same Lord whose nature is always to have mercy.”

This Syro-Phoenician woman has heard about what happens when Jesus is in town. 

·         Blind people see again

·         Paralytics walk again 

·         Dead bodies breathe again

·         Evil spirits get sent packing

·         Lepers’ flaky skin becomes young again. 

She is only asking for a single cure; one crumb! It doesn’t need to be a whole loaf, or even whole a slice, let alone a full meal. “Just let me have one crumb! That’ll be all I need.” What faith! 

Jesus says, “For such a reply, you may go; the demon has left your daughter.”

And the Bible says that “she went home and found her daughter relaxed on the bed, the torment gone for good” (MSG).

All this is challenging for me because I’m a Gentile too. So are most of you. Am I prepared to swallow my pride and come with humility and brokenness, and accept Jesus’ verdict upon me, a sinner, with an unclean heart by nature, unfit even to gather up crumbs from under a table, and ask for grace?

The amazing thing is that, though all of us are unworthy of crumbs, we all get invited to a banquet!

Parenthesis

So this is Jesus going into new ground, beyond his homeland and bringing blessing to an entirely new audience.

This is interesting to me because I have been asking God for a few years now what entering new ground would look like for us at All Saints'. 

God is leading us to redevelop and extend our building. That will be an important focus for us over the next few years. 

We're going to have more space to fill, and the Lord has already been adding to our number in anticipation of that extra space being created.

But I think there’s more. I felt prompted by the Holy Spirit a few months ago to speak with the Bishop about an offer I had made a few years earlier, and which essentially came to nothing, to send out a team from All Saints, led by a curate, to plant a daughter version of All Saints' into another community.

Extend the building or plant out a team? I have a growing conviction that it is not either/or but both/and. If the Jesus we've been reading about this morning is the same Jesus we know and love, I have faith that we can grow the building and fill it, and also send out a team of maybe 30-40 people in a few years' time to plant a new church.

I expected the Bishop to say no, that wouldn’t be possible, but to my surprise, he told me that this is right in line with what he thinks God is saying about his strategy for mission and growth. Things are at a very, very early stage, and I can't say more now, but I would encourage you to start praying about this. If God is in it, and I think he is, nothing will be able to stop it. 

2. The Deaf and Mute Man

Jesus leaves that place and heads back to the Decapolis. It's back in Galilee, but it is Gentile territory. The last time he was here was in chapter 5, do you remember? He met a weird, naked, shrieking, self-harming man living in a cemetery calling himself Legion and he delivered him of his demons and said “Stay here and tell everyone what God has done for you.”

That’s why when Jesus comes back here in v33 it says there’s a crowd. The evangelist formerly known as Legion has been busy. In fact, at the start of chapter 8, there are 4,000 people there who listen to Jesus preaching for three days! So that’s the secret to church growth; three-day sermons!

People bring to Jesus a deaf-mute. Imagine what it must be like to be this man. Put yourself in his shoes. You are cut off from the world. You have never heard the voices of your loved ones. You don’t know what birdsong sounds like, or music, or laughter, or the rustling of trees… or fingernails scratching down a blackboard (there are some advantages to being deaf…) 

Why the fingers in the ears? Notice that Jesus hardly ever heals the same way as he did before. Each time, he does an entirely new thing. He listens to the prompting of the Holy Spirit, and however strange it seems, he goes with that.

Why the spit? And incidentally aren’t you glad the prayer team isn’t trained in the ministry of expectoration? Thank God we don’t sing songs like “Come, Holy Spit,” “Washed in the Dribble of the Lamb” and “These are the Days of Saliva.”

What’s Jesus doing? He is going out of his way to explain what he’s doing to a man who cannot hear, in order to raise his faith and expectation. This is a mime.

The fingers in the ears – to communicate that he is going to do something about his hearing. 

The spit on the tongue, (the Jewish Talmud mentions spittle on the tongue as a means of healing), to communicate that he wants to do something about his speech.

Jesus lifts his gaze – to communicate looking to heaven and asking the Father. 

The deep sigh is also a very visible signal – to communicate that Jesus is moved with compassion. 

And finally, this word “Ephphatha” meaning “be opened!” Probably the most lip-readable word in the Aramaic dictionary.

Jesus ministers at a level that people can understand. What more do I need to say? The man opens his mouth, his tongue is loosened and he starts to speak coherently and clearly. 

“He has done everything well,” they say.

Ending 

Hasn’t he? Isn’t God good and isn't Jesus awesome!

Let's stand to pray...

Sermon preached at All Saints' Preston on Tees, 8 October 2017

The Encouragement of the Kingdom (Mark 6.45-56)

One Sunday morning, when our oldest son Nathan was about two years old, Kathie and I were setting up before a service in a church in North London. I think she was going to be leading and I was in the band, I can’t remember now, but what I do remember is this: while we were both distracted getting everything ready, little Nathan decided to go exploring.

I thought he was with Kathie and she thought he was with me so we didn’t notice anything was untoward for a few minutes. Once we realised he was with neither of us, we looked around but he was nowhere to be seen.

If you’ve ever lost a child that you’re responsible for you know exactly how this feels. First, you’re quite calm. At least that’s what you project outwardly. Let’s be British and not make a scene... He was here a few minutes ago, he can’t have gone far.

You look in the most obvious places – but see nothing. Then your sense of nervousness goes up a level. Your heart starts to beat a bit faster. You move more quickly. You answer sharply when people ask you really helpful things like “where did you see him last?”

We searched the less obvious places; the vestry, the toilets, behind the communion table... We asked other people to look too. Still, there was no sign of him. Then fear begins to take a grip and you start to pray urgent prayers under your breath. Your heart is racing now, you begin to sweat, and your mind battles with all kinds of unimaginable scenarios.

Some fear is good; the fear of getting run over has trained me to look left and right before walking in a road. Fear helps keep us alive. It’s a natural human emotion. When under stress the nervous system activates a surge of adrenaline. You can’t control it, it’s visceral. It’s known as the acute stress response (fight-or-flight). Essentially, the body is getting ready to either attack or run from whatever threat there might be.

I asked the welcomers on the door if they’d seen Nathan. They hadn’t. But still, Kathie and I walked past them onto the busy main road outside and looked around.

And there he was - in the arms of a very confused motorist, looking up and down the street, his car stopped in the middle of the road and the car door wide open. He had seen Nathan on the road, as he was driving, screeched to a halt and picked him up.

I felt irresponsible, embarrassed, angry, upset; all those things, but most of all, I felt relieved.

That series of emotions; from normal, to apprehension, to fear, to dread, to relief is exactly what Jesus’ disciples experienced in our story this morning.

Let’s briefly set the scene. If you were here last week, you’ll know that the context is exhilarating. Jesus has just fed 5,000 men, plus women and children, with the contents of a child’s lunchbox. By any standards, it has been an amazing day. The disciples have seen with their own eyes, and touched with their own hands, something miraculous. They have seen heaven touching earth.

And Jesus, ever more popular with the crowds, and ever more unpopular with the clergy, is now rising fast to the top of King Herod’s hit list. Things are getting heavy so he decides to take some time out on his own to pray.

So in v45, he tells the twelve to climb into a little boat and head off to the opposite shore. He sends the crowd home. And he walks up into the hills to pray alone. It’s about 5pm.

Eight hours later, at 3am, Jesus is still awake. He looks down at the moonlit lake and he sees white surf washing against the side of boat struggling to make headway. Usually, the boat would have a sail to catch the wind, but this one evidently did not because it says in v48 that they were straining at the oars and that the wind was against them.

If you ever rowed against a wind or a tide you know how hard it is. Picture a dozen men in their prime, putting their backs into it, labouring with all their energy, slogging away for eight hours, blisters appearing on their hands, still only in the middle of the lake, barely halfway, getting to the point of physical exhaustion, becoming slowly and utterly demoralised.

Do you know that feeling of giving it all you’ve got but that not being enough? The business of simply staying alive feeling like a battle...

All the toil, all the grind – the attrition of it, the relentless heaviness… Have you ever come to a point of sheer exhaustion? Do you know what it feels like to admit to yourself after giving 100% that it has got you nowhere? Is that perhaps where you are now? Did it take all your energy to even get here this morning?

These twelve guys in the boat, having witnessed just hours before perhaps the greatest miracle of their lives, are now disheartened, depressed, deflated, dispirited and demoralised.

Sometimes Jesus saves you from the storm; and you don’t have to go through it. But usually he lets you go through it, but he saves you in the storm. 

Any church can get discouraged like the twelve did in that boat. It’s possible to exhaust ourselves to death running tired old programmes, pouring energy into diocesan initiatives, organising complicated missions, putting on amazing events, throwing all we’ve got into the latest big idea that worked brilliantly somewhere else…

It’s draining just talking about it! I’m not saying “don’t do mission”, far from it, I want to do a lot more, in fact.

But oh, the lengths we go to, and the energy we expend, and the hours we strain against the wind to the point of collapse before it occurs to us that Jesus isn’t on board – no wonder it’s all so soul-destroying!

Here’s the first and last question every ministry should ask regularly: “Is Jesus in the boat?” If he is, thank God! If he isn’t, for heaven’s sake shut it down, don’t waste any more time on it.

So anyway, Jesus looks down at his exhausted lads from his vantage point and he sees that they need a bit of encouragement.

We used to have an old Citroën 2CV. That was our first car. It had an engine the size of a hair dryer, it sounded like a moped, and it reached a top speed (downhill with a tail wind) of 70 mph. It was so lightweight and flimsy; it handled completely differently on the rare occasion it had a full tank of petrol. We had a sticker on the back window that said “Don’t laugh: Jesus went by donkey.”

Actually, Jesus only ever went by donkey once as far as we know, on Palm Sunday. He sometimes travelled by boat. But most of the time he walked. And that’s what he felt he should do that night. No boat was available so he thought “I’ll just take a stroll out on the lake, stretch my legs.

Actually, there are several species of animal that can walk on water including the Brazilian pygmy gecko, the fishing spider, the western grebe, the water skipper, and best of all the basilisk lizard (also known as the Jesus Christ lizard) and if you have never met this little fella, here’s a short National Geographic video… … Isn’t he great?

Jesus, though, is the only human being to have walked on water (alright, Matthew’s gospel says Peter did briefly, but he would have drowned if Jesus had not saved him).

It’s an amazing miracle, all four Gospel writers include it, and it shows those guys in the boat beyond doubt that they are looking at the Son of God.

Which they had ample evidence of already, and that’s the point.

Given what the twelve disciples have already witnessed, they should not really be all that surprised.

Someone who can heal with a word, who can send evil spirits packing, who can raise a child from the dead, who can bring instant healing just because someone touches his clothes in a crowd, and who can feed a great crowd with a boy’s picnic – someone like that should be able to walk on water. But they are surprised – and we are too.

As they strain and pull on the oars, Jesus comes up alongside them. It seems he just wants them to know he is there. He just wants to reassure them of his presence. “But not only are they not assured by his presence, they don’t even recognise it!”

Their response is sheer terror. They are paralysed by fear – it’s where we get the expression ‘scared stiff.’

I talked earlier about healthy fear. Fear of losing a young child. But there is unhealthy fear too.

The word in Greek is phobos from which we get the word phobia. This is when the fear we experience is disproportionate to danger involved. Pogonophobia is the fear of beards. Coulrophobia is the fear of clowns. Anatidaephobia is the fear of being watched or stalked by a duck.

There is an epidemic of fear and anxiety in our society. Millennials (those born around the Year 2000) have been called the generation of fear.

But fear is nothing new. There was a Jewish old wives’ tale at the time of Christ that said if you see a ghost, you’re going to die. It’s a bit like seeing the grim reaper. That’s why they’re all scared witless – they all see Jesus, think it’s a ghost and they all think their number’s up.

Have you ever felt in danger of death? When I was four, on holiday in San Remo, Italy, my mum and dad warned my brother and me that the beach under the water had a gentle slope and then a sudden dip.

We were paddling in the surf when suddenly we both lost our footing and we were under the water, out of our depth, and unable to swim. I looked up and saw two hands plunge into the water and… they picked up my toddler brother and left me to drown. I was just coming to terms with the rejection when suddenly two hands grabbed me and pulled me to safety.

It must have all happened in a few seconds but it felt like ages. The feeling that you’re going to die can be terrifying.

Jesus sees that they are petrified and says, “Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.” In the midst of our fear, Jesus draws near. Jesus approaches them specifically to bring encouragement. He sets everything else in perspective. With Jesus by your side you can look at the world around you and, whatever is happening, take courage, and fear nothing.

Verse 51 says that they were “completely amazed.” The commentators say that that expression in Greek is even stronger than the one in 5.42. After Jesus raised a little girl from the dead it says they were “completely astonished.” But this is further up the scale; it means totally and utterly and completely and absolutely amazed, and astounded, and speechless, and awed.

“Because”, it says, “they had not understood about the loaves; their hearts were hardened.”

Now, I’ve told you before that these guys are not the sharpest knives in the drawer. To tell the truth, they couldn’t pour water out of a shoe even if the instructions were written on the heel!

But when it says they didn’t understand about the loaves what it means is this: Mark's gospel has shown Jesus' authority over disaster, over disease, over demons, over danger, and over death. Now, having seen all that, the twelve witness first-hand the multiplication of five bread rolls into a square meal for 5,000 men with more left over than they started with - they are personally involved in the miracle; they actually handle the bread - and they still don’t really get it that Jesus is special, and that what he did then he can do now, and that there is no limit, no limit, to his awesome power.

I can poke fun at the twelve apostles, and there’s more than enough material here for weeks, but in truth I’m just… like… them. How many times have I seen God answer prayer, sometimes instantly, but then been totally shocked that he actually answered another one! “Wow! An answered prayer!”

But how different it all feels in the middle of the night, when the wind is howling, when you’re rowing hard, when your safety is under threat… when events disappoint us, when illness or loneliness overtake us, when trusted friends hurt us, and when spiritual dryness oppresses us.

Is that where you are today? Are you in that place? Jesus’ presence draws near. Don’t be afraid, it is really him.

We arrive now at a decisive point in Mark’s Gospel. Verse 56 signals the end of Jesus’ Galilean ministry. These first six chapters condense about two years of Jesus’ life, spent almost entirely in the area around the Sea of Galilee.

And mostly amongst Jewish people, but not exclusively. Broadly speaking, Jesus was overwhelmingly popular and attracted a huge following, but opposition against him increased steadily over this time too. And very soon, he will leave this area and move out to surrounding regions; increasingly into Gentile territory.

Why the change? Because Jesus didn’t come only to heal. He came to save. As Mark’s Gospel unfolds, the atmosphere will darken. The plot will thicken. Jesus will increasingly divide opinion. The conspiracy to do away with him will intensify. He will become, for the powers that be, public enemy number one. And he will lay down his precious life to save us all from sin, and eternal death, and hell.

But before that, Jesus and the twelve disciples get to the other shore and anchor at Gennesaret. Straightaway, of course, there’s a crowd.

You may wonder why there were so many sick people. It’s because the town of Tiberias, on the western shore of the lake, was a health spa with thermal baths.

Actually, it still is today. The website of one of the many hotels in that town says this:

“In the thermal baths at Tiberias, you’ll find waters containing unique properties found in no other spa in the world. The hot springs are said to be beneficial for a variety of ailments such as skin infections and arthritis, muscle diseases and more... Tiberias Hot Spring water boasts a unique mineral composition, containing nearly 100 natural minerals… The sulphur-rich water affects the body's metabolism while the warm temperature accelerates the healing process.”

So these people, desperate for a cure for their ailments, recognise Jesus and it says in v55 onwards that they carry the infirm on mats, they place their sick in his way, they try to touch his cloak; they swarm around him like ants around jam.

Everybody comes wanting to get something from him. Let me touch you! Come here! Do this! Do that! Give me health. Give me wholeness. Give me happiness. Give me inner peace. Give me what I want. Help me!

Do you need to learn to set aside your pride and hold your hands out to receive from the Lord? “How much more will your heavenly Father give good gifts to those who ask?”

Mark 6 ends by affirming this wonderful truth: “all who touched him were healed.” Will you reach out to him today?

But I want to end on a slightly different note. It saddens me that nobody comes to Jesus here saying, “What can I do for you?” “Will you let me follow you?” “What might you want from me?”

They know he is a healer. But many think he is only a healer. Their interest is superficial. They are consumers, no more.

Lord, “What can I do for you?” “Can I follow you?” “What might you want from me?”

Let’s stand to pray…

Sermon preached at All Saints' Preston on Tees, 24 September 2017

A Walk on the Wild Side (Mark 5.1-20)

On 23 July this year, the Guardian newspaper reported a strange incident on the Franco-Spanish border.

It said: “More than 200 sheep have plunged to their deaths in the Pyrenees while apparently trying to escape a brown bear… The sheep… are thought to have taken fright when the bear appeared in the area last Sunday.

The flock panicked and hurled themselves off a 200 metre-high cliff…

The incident has provoked an angry response from the local branch of the French Farmers’ Federation.

More than 130 sheep died in a similar incident in the French Pyrenees last year.”

The parallel with today’s reading is striking. If you think what’s described in Mark’s Gospel sounds far-fetched, clearly large herds of panicking livestock will jump off a cliff to their death if they are frightened enough.

We’ll come back to that shortly but, since many have been away in August, I want to briefly set the scene so we get a feel for the flow of the story.

In the last few chapters, Jesus has been travelling around, addressing large crowds and doing many great miracles.

As a consequence, he is attracting more admirers and followers. But he is also making many jealous enemies. Great throngs of demanding people come to get something from him or pick faults and oppose him.

By now, Jesus is working long hours in a stressful atmosphere, and he isn’t eating properly. He is in the red zone, in danger of burnout.

So at the end of chapter 4, as we saw last week, even though it’s not yet fully dark, Jesus flops down in a cramped and creaky old wooden boat and falls into a sleep so deep that even a storm of biblical proportions cannot wake him up. Jesus, in his full humanity, is shattered. He is bushed.

Jesus says, at the end of chapter 4, he wants a change of scenery. “Let’s go over to the other side,” he says.

On the opposite shore is a territory called Decapolis. It is quite unlike the thoroughly Jewish side they’ve just come from, where there’s a synagogue in every village and everything shuts on the Sabbath.

Decapolis is a darker, more secular place, inhabited by unbelievers and pagans. That’s why pigs are farmed there, unthinkable on Jewish land.

Why would Jesus want to go there? The answer is simple; he wants some privacy, and he wants it for two reasons.

Firstly, as we know, he is overdue some rest. He needs a day off, a holiday, in fact.

We all need time to rest physically and replenish spiritually when we’ve been busy. Jesus needed it. So do you, and so do I. It’s why most things shut down here in August. It’s a sabbatical month to rest and recharge our batteries before the hectic autumn term.

But secondly, Jesus wants some privacy to spend time with his disciples so he can train them and mentor them. Good leaders invest in others.

Imagine your house is on fire. You are outside and you have one bucket of water. Next to you are twelve sleeping firemen. Where do you throw the water? On the firemen! If God’s work is going to multiply thirty-, sixty-, a hundredfold, Jesus has to mobilise his twelve-man team.

In the very next chapter, as we’ll see, he commissions them and sends them out. Before that can happen, he has to prepare them. 

Now, with that in mind, the need for rest and the need to invest, you’d think they would head for a spa with jacuzzis, massage beds, and a decent training facility.

But when we open chapter 5 what do we find?

They arrive on Lake Galilee’s south-eastern shore. If you go there today you’ll notice there is a flat plain set about 200 metres high above steep hills that plunge down towards the lake. The hillside is limestone and it’s pitted with natural caves, which, in those days, were used as tombs.

It’s late and this is an eerie location. Just the kind of place you don’t want to meet a shrieking, disturbed, self-harming, unrestrainable, and completely naked man. There’s a story you didn’t hear in Sunday School…

What do we know about this individual?

Firstly, he’s a tormented soul. He cries out in distress night and day. He’s pretty intense. He’s not top of the invitation list for your dinner party.

Secondly, he’s got a weird thing about death. He lives in the tombs. There’s something dark and macabre about him. He’s scary. 

Thirdly, he self-harms. He breaks irons on his feet and cuts himself with sharp stones.

Fourthly, he’s excluded. People try everything. Nothing works. No one wants him around town. So they banish him to this desolate place to live in seclusion.

Such antisocial behaviour suggests this is a madman. But this is no mental health case. He is suffering from a rare and dreadful spiritual condition that can develop when people become involved with satanic rituals, the occult and the paranormal.

Two other details show that this is a case of demon possession, quite distinct from mental illness.

Fifthly, he has unnatural strength. They try restraining him. But he’s like an animal. No one can contain him, even with an iron chain. They try locking him up. He breaks the locks. “No one was strong enough to subdue him,” it says.

And sixthly, he has enhanced spiritual awareness. He knows immediately who Jesus is. In words that don’t come from him, it’s clear he knows that Jesus has power over his spiritual condition. “What do you want with me?” he says.

Nothing in our world can deal with this kind of thing. Politicians, police, prison, probation – none of it makes any difference. Only Jesus can set people free from this kind of oppression.

I think of Beth Eckert who, by the age of 13, was severely depressed and suicidal. At 14, her boyfriend raped her, filling her with hatred and rage. 

At 15, her ex-boyfriend committed suicide and she blamed herself and started self-harming.

She then met the son of a high priestess in a coven. He led her into pagan witchcraft. She got into drugs and embraced the persona of a witch, dabbling in the occult.

But, to cut a long story short, one day Beth walked into a church and she knew she had come home.  She got cleaned up and sorted out. She got baptized.

This is how she puts it: “I had no idea all these years what I was missing out on by not knowing Jesus. I had been using his name as a swear word. I had mocked him and tore down everything I had heard about him. And all that time he was just holding out his hand to me, loving me and never condemning me.”

I think of Shane Taylor, one of the six most violent men in Britain’s prisons. It took six prison officers at a time to subdue him.

But one day, after 8 years in jail for violent crime, a prison chaplain showed him from the Bible why Jesus died on the cross. Shane asked God to reveal himself if he was real. Something welled up from deep in his belly, his emotions overflowed and he found himself crying.

“At that moment,” he says, “I knew God had touched me and heard my prayers. All the hate, anger and resentment seeped away, leaving me feeling lifted.” Shane is now a settled family man who runs Alpha courses in prisons.

Jesus meets people in dark places and he lifts them into the light. He totally saves. He alone has authority over evil.

As soon as they meet, Jesus says, “Come out of this man, you evil spirit!”

He falls to his knees and shouts, ”What do you want with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God?”

Notice, dark powers know exactly who Jesus is. They call him “Son of the Most High God.” Spot-on! They know that he has authority over all angels, including fallen ones, which is what evil spirits are. There’s no one equal to Jesus and they know it.

Then he shouts, “In God’s name, don’t torture me.” So not only do dark powers know who Jesus is, they also know they’re going to hell. Satan knows that when Jesus shows up, it’s game over.

Jesus asks, “What’s your name?” The man replies “My name is Legion, for we are many.” A Roman Legion was a battalion of three to six thousand soldiers. But demons boast and lie and there probably weren’t that many.

At their request, Jesus consents to send them into the pigs. There were 2,000 of them nearby which is quite a herd.

According to industry sources, the average market price of a whole pig in the UK today is £138. So at today’s prices we’re looking at £275,000 worth of livestock.

People are naturally troubled by this, and to be honest my first thought was “No! All that bacon…” but the point is this: the people in town loved their pigs more than they loved this man. Jesus values one man, made in God’s image, more than 2,000 swine who aren’t.

As I draw to a close, there are two twists at the end of the story. The first comes in v15-17. People hear about what happened and they see this man sitting by Jesus’ feet, showered, shaved and dressed. What has happened to Mr. Weirdo?

He has met Jesus. And Jesus changes people. He still does. Jesus transforms, sometimes overnight, the most wretched, messed up people who seem beyond hope - and he makes people new.

You’d have thought the villagers might say, “Wow, this is amazing! Jesus, how did you do that? We tried everything for him and nothing worked. Please stay.”

But no. They want Jesus out of the area. They actually beg him to leave. Why? Firstly, they’re afraid. “This is weird. I’m officially freaked out. We don’t know where this is leading. What’s going to happen next?” This is a surprisingly common reaction to God doing something new.

Secondly, they want Jesus gone because they think too much of their pigs. They value their lucrative pork business and the prosperity it brings more than they value the welfare of a fellow human being. So, “Jesus, you’d better leave.”

The final twist is in v18. As Jesus gets into the boat, the man says, “Can I come too?” What a great idea! This guy’s going to need follow up. And he’ll be great to warm up the crowd with his amazing testimony whenever Jesus is invited to speak. It’s win-win. Perfect...  

But Jesus says, “No. Go home to your people and tell them how much the Lord has done for you.”

Why does Jesus say that? Because, as we’ll see in three weeks’ time, the next time Jesus shows up in the Decapolis (in chapter 8), 4,000 people come to hear him. Between chapter 5 and chapter 8, this guy is busy – and productive.

To end then, how does this story meet your life?

·         Are you exhausted and needing to set time apart for relaxation and spiritual replenishment? Is today the day you open your diary and mark off some time to rest and meet with God?

·         I’m not suggesting anyone here today is where this man was but if you are in any kind of dark place will you come into the light and let Jesus change your heart this morning?

·         Are you, like the villagers, scared of God? Are you keeping Jesus at arm’s length, wanting him to go away? Aslan is not a tame lion. Jesus is the same yesterday, today and forever. Jesus will not be domesticated to accommodate your fears or mine. Will you let God be God today?

·         Like the villagers, do you love things more than people? Will you ask God to give you a new heart today so your priorities are the same as his?

·         Or is the Lord challenging you to serve him where he wants, rather than where you want? The area he wants you to serve may not be the most comfortable, but it’s where you will be most fruitful.

Let’s pray…

Sermon preached at All Saints' Preston on Tees, 27 August 2017