SERMON Lives lost

Pentecost 15 B proper 19 Lectionary 24 (2009):

Isaiah 50:4-9a; Psalm 116:1-8; James 3:1-12; Mark 8:27-38

Loss of life looms large these days. Almost daily we read or hear (as we did a week ago Friday) of loss of life in Afghanistan, both military and civilian. Loss of life a week ago Friday that resulted from a NATO air strike. A loss of life that is magnifying the divide on the war (New York Times). But not only in Afghanistan. Continued loss of life in Iraq. In Yeman. Loss of life from natural disasters. This past Friday I was vividly reminded of the loss of life eight years ago when I unexpectedly watched on msnbc-- mesmerized -- the replay in actual time of the NBC coverage of the loss of life on 9/11. This morning, we hear Jesus tell his disciples, "For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it."

I had not seen the actual replay of the same news coverage that I had watched in horror eight years ago. I was unprepared for and deeply moved by the replay. I remember being similarly unprepared for and deeply moved by a documentary on United Airlines Flight 93 several years ago. The documentary account of how 37 strangers flying to California from Newark on the morning of September 11, 2001, united to overcome the highjackers' intent on flying the plane into Washington, D.C. How they deliberately chose certain death, their immediate loss of life, to prevent the likely (but not certain) duplication of what they knew from phone calls had already happened in New York. They were heroes. True heroes. Heros but not martyrs.

There were, however, martyrs on United Flight 93. Four of them. Even as the cockpit was being overtaken by the passengers, the highjackers can be heard praying, "Allah - Akbar," God is great. Their death was also certain, but it was not to be unrewarded. I am a great fan of The Onion, and one of The Onion's finest articles was in the issue following 9/11.

www.theonion.com/content/node/38673? issue=4228&special=2001.

The dateline is jahannem, outer darkness and the headline reads, "Hijackers Surprised To Find Selves In Hell." To quote the article:

"I was promised I would spend eternity in Paradise, being fed honeyed cakes by 67 virgins in a tree-lined garden, if only I would fly the airplane into one of the Twin Towers," said Mohammed Atta, one of the hijackers of American Airlines Flight 11, between attempts to vomit up the wasps, hornets, and live coals infesting his stomach. " . . . Is this to be my reward for destroying the enemies of my faith?"

Mistaken as they surely were, these were men who believed that were losing their lives to save them -- saving them for a good cause and a far better existence.

Which brings us to this morning and Jesus' telling his disciples to lose their lives to save them. But before he does, he first he tells them to take up their crosses. In saying this, Jesus is certainly not advocating self-inflicted martyrdom of the 9/11 highjackers. Rather, he is saying "be prepared to be executed." And for good reason.

We believe that the author of Mark was writing from a Christian community in Rome sometime around 70. That community knew first hand about persecution. The Emperor Nero had blamed them for starting the Great Rome Fire in 64. As punishment, he had sent some Christians to the dogs to be killed and eaten, crucified others, and burned still others. The sectarian violence in Afghanistan and Iraq does not even begin to compare. It was a terrible persecution. And the first. Both Peter and Paul were probably among its martyrs.

And if we only go this far, and leave it with Jesus' telling us to take up our crosses and be willing to die, we can easily say this is for that community of faith in Rome, not for this community faith in Wicker Park. We are not going to be persecuted for our faith. We are not going to die for the gospel. We are not going to lose our lives. Unlike the highjackers, we are not being asked to lose our lives.

So it would seem. Until we take a closer look. And in doing that, we see that Jesus is describing a way of living, not just a plan for dying. And, as plans go, it is far more social than spiritual.

We know that because the word Jesus uses here for "life" is the Greek word yuch. (psu-kay´) -- our word "psyche" comes from it. For Jesus it means both a person's ordinary social life and true self. It does not mean physical, biological life. Nor does it mean what we understand as psyche or self -- something personal and private, very individual, an "inner child" kind of thing. Jesus is not talking about a spiritual loss of identity, absorption into the divine, passivity -- withdrawing from this world to gain a highjacker's paradise. That's not what Jesus has in mind.

It's not because neither he nor any of his first century followers thought of themselves as lone rangers. The concept of the "individual" is not one they understood. They would not have recognized an "inner child" if they stared one in the face. Instead a first century person defined himself or herself in terms of his or her public place in society and what society expected of him or her and what he or she did in light of those expectations. What this means was summed up in one of my favorite Richard J. Daley (Father, not the Son) quotes. In the context of Chicago politics, Richard J. Daley advised: "Don't make no waves, don't back no losers."

That is exactly what being a person and having a self meant in the 1^st Century -- not making waves, not backing losers. It meant playing out roles defined by family structure and society. Doing what family and society expected.

And that is exactly what Jesus was telling everyone they could not do. And by the time the author of Mark wrote his gospel, the Christians in the Roman community had discovered what Jesus meant by losing their social lives. Nero had offered a pretext and a reason for deciding that the Christians could safely be persecuted for starting the Great Rome Fire.

The pretext was that the Christian part of the city had been spared. The reason was that the Christians had gained a reputation as "haters of humankind."

And that reason is telling. Christians had gained a reputation as "haters of humankind" because it was impossible to function socially or in government jobs in Rome without being caught up in the worship of the imperial cult -- worship that involved the Roman gods that included the emperor. That was true whether one went to the theater or a sporting event or served in the army or had a job as a civil servant.

The Christians actively went against everything that was expected of them as social persons living in Roman society, even to the point of being asocial "haters of humankind." They went against their concept of "self" to do what their God, the gospel, and their faith told them they must do. And in doing that, they lost their lives to save their lives.

And that is a very different kind of loss of life. At its highest, it is the kind of selflessness that bonded the 37 passengers on United Flight 93 to take action. In the words of one commentator, "Given the choice, they chose to act."

There is another kind of loss of life as well.

One of the most moving things in the United Flight 93 documentary were the interviews with families who described how their husband, wife, brother, sister, friend called to comfort and assure them. When I heard those interviews, I was reminded of an article in The New York Times a year after 9/11. An article about similar messages from workers trapped in the twin towers on 9/11.

Rowan Williams who is now the archbishop of Canterbury was meeting at Trinity Church on Wall Street on September 11. In his reflection of that day, he began with the messages from the workers. As described and reported by Peter Steinfels in The New York Times:

Those farewell messages did not use religious language -- that seemed to have been reserved for the final testaments of the murderers. Yet the nonreligious words of the workers trapped in the towers, Archbishop Williams finds, testified ''to what religious language is supposed to be about -- the triumph of pointless, gratuitous love, the affirming of faithfulness even when there is nothing to be done or salvaged.'' (NYT 8/29/02)

When Bishop Williams, laments that "all [he] had was words", Peter Steinfels replies (and the author of James in today's reading would affirm),

Isn't that also all that the people making those final phone calls had? But their phone calls were more than words; they were actions. Men and women facing anguishing deaths used these instants to reassure and to console those they loved, to anticipate grief and to try to ease it.

In their actions, the passengers on United Flight 93 and the workers in Trade Center were going against the selfishness that our society assumes and others expect. They weren't thinking of themselves. They were thinking of others. In the deepest sense, they were losing their lives for the sake of others. And saving their lives in the gift to others. This is not about 60+ virgins in heaven. It is not about the "give a little, get a lot" mentality that is so pervasive in our society. This is about God's gift to us to give to others. About getting much and giving more. A real loss of life in actions that give life to the world. This world. When given the choice, may we choose to act. Amen

September 13, 2009Ruth VanDemark, pastor

Wicker Park Lutheran Church