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July 8, 2012 | 8:00 a.m.

Forget the Church, Follow Jesus

Kerri N. Allen
Pastoral Resident, Fourth Presbyterian Church

Psalm 123
Mark 6:1–13

Three deceptively simple questions are at the heart of a spiritually vibrant Christianity—questions of believing, behaving, and belonging.

Diana Butler Bass


Forget the church and follow Jesus. These aren’t my words; they are the words of British journalist Andrew Sullivan in an extensive article from an April edition of Newsweek.

Sullivan discusses the decline of the mainline churches, including the Protestant and Roman Catholic church, and he heavily criticizes the increased religious tone in United States politics. He says Christianity is in crisis. This view, of course, is not new, and in fact it is a hot topic of conversation these days—from journalists, like Sullivan, to scholars and theologians. As the world becomes increasingly pluralistic, many wonder what will become of the church and what will become of Christianity.

After spending the last week in Pittsburgh, observing the 220th General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church (USA), I imagine that many are feeling this way about the PC(USA). It was an extremely tense Assembly, and on the Fourth of July the fireworks started long before sunset as the elected Vice Moderator, Tara Spuhler McCabe, resigned a mere thirty-six hours after her election. Some months prior to General Assembly, Tara revealed that she had presided over a same gendered union in Washington, D.C. This fact was known and discussed before commissioners took their votes. Even with this knowledge, the General Assembly voted to elect Tara as Vice Moderator.

But more conservative parts of the church were unsettled and threatened to hold up the Assembly contesting her election. They said hurtful things online and in emails. Tara felt this would color the balance of the assembly, and she resigned.

On top of all of this that happened in the past week, we’re still faced with many churches that are considering departing the denomination following the action of the 219th General Assembly, which allowed for ordination of LGBT people. So what will become of the PC(USA)?

The divisions in the church were particularly clear in the votes on controversial issues decided by slim margins. From the vote on divestment to the vote on redefining marriage, they were determined by fewer than forty votes.

Of course even in our own local church, we all hold a diversity of views on controversial subjects; our personal lives and experiences form and shape us in unique and particular ways. Oftentimes, those controversial issues in themselves are layered and complex.

But what I noticed about the Assembly this year was that it mirrors so much of the tone that is so present in our political and cultural sphere, that tone that Andrew Sullivan is so critical about in his editorial. While some division has always existed in our denomination, the things that were being said at this Assembly seemed particularly harmful. Conservative commissioners comparing same-sex relationships to bestiality; liberal Presbyterians accusing commissioners of “pernicious poison.” All I can say is my constant prayer of the week was “Christ, have mercy.”

I couldn’t help wonder about what Sullivan said: “Forget the church and follow Jesus.” Sullivan, talking about a Christianity in crisis, makes a clear distinction between the Jesus of Nazareth and a religion and institution that grew from the incarnational reality of the Son of God.

Sullivan advocates for following the “vision of holiness” Jesus, the Jesus who says “sell what you have and give to the poor.” But I can’t help but wonder if that says enough about what it means to be a Christian. I can’t help but wonder if this is an oversimplistic view of Jesus, with an unrealistic expectation of human beings.

This scripture lesson today tells us that what holiness meant for Jesus is much more than we might assume on its face. And what about the Jesus who wasn’t welcomed in his hometown? What is interesting about this passage from the Gospel of Mark is how much is going on just underneath the text. How much is going on that we might miss at first glance.

This hometown crew is not simply astonished by Jesus’ wisdom; they were stunned because he was preaching with authority.

“Where did this man get all this? What is this wisdom that has been given to him?”

What at first appears to be positive amazement quickly turns into negative questioning by these parishioners. After all, if anyone had the right to question Jesus’ origins, it should be those who knew him best. They described Jesus as “the carpenter,” “the son of Mary,” and ignored any mention of Joseph. They knew exactly who this man Jesus was.

And in this cultural context, for this hometown crowd to voice all of these things would have been considered a direct insult to Jesus’ character and honor. Jesus was not welcomed because he was considered illegitimate. And for Jesus to enter this sacred space and preach and teach like one of the prophets was scandalous. Can you imagine the judgment his friends and family had just because of Jesus’ familial lineage?

“Prophets are not without honor except in their hometown.”

Certainly if we recall the prophets of the Old Testament, we would remember that they spoke a truth that no one wanted to hear. They were not welcomed at the time and in the space that they prophesied, no more than the truth and teaching Jesus offered were welcomed by those who would have witnessed Jesus grow up as a child.

Shouldn’t they have known better? Shouldn’t the people who watch us grow up, who know who we are at our core, know who we are? Those who are faithful in the religious tradition should know what Jesus was talking about.

As I reflected on this passage, I couldn’t help but think about some of the parallels from the last week. I couldn’t help but think about Tara McCabe and about the story she shares with the newly elected Moderator Neal Pressa. This relationship they shared led to Neal inviting Tara to be Vice Moderator. They met over a decade ago, as young clergy from different cultural backgrounds, different geographic locations, different theological views, and different beliefs about marriage. They became friends, and I imagine they watched each other grow into being pastors. They formed a bond together that they hoped to unite at General Assembly.

But “prophets are not without honor except in their hometown.”

What Tara didn’t know was that she would not be welcomed by many of her own people. She would not be welcomed by some in her hometown. She was not without honor in her hometown because people had assumptions and judgments about the choice she made. For many Tara standing as Vice Moderator for the next two years was illegitimate. Tara took a risk that everyone might not agree with, that all of the people in this congregation might not agree with, and she put her ordination on the line because, she said, “I am a pastor. That is who God has called me to be. As I reflect on what’s happening now, I think I am embodying the reality of a growing number of pastors who find ourselves caught. We are caught between being pastors—being with couples in those sacred moments when they make their vows to one another . . . and having a polity that restricts us from living out our pastoral calling—especially in states where it is legal for everyone to be married.”

I wonder why this stance that Tara took, as a pastor, as who God called her to be, a call that was affirmed by our church in her ordination, could not be heard by her own church family and friends?

Could not be heard any more than the people in Jesus’ hometown could hear the message that Jesus was offering. Maybe they didn’t want to hear what the parallel story in Luke’s Gospel says:

The Spirit of the Lord is on me,
     because God has anointed me
     to proclaim good news to the poor.
God has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners
and recovery of sight for the blind,
to set the oppressed free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.

These words Jesus spoke in the Gospel of Luke were the words of Isaiah. Do you really mean to tell me that these deeply religious people didn’t know what Jesus was talking about?

Tara McCabe is not Jesus, and none of us are. We’re simple human beings, making human mistakes, but I have to wonder why we so often turn away those whom we’ve watched grow up and we’ve watched grow? What makes us turn our backs on those with whom we don’t agree?

Maybe Andrew Sullivan has it a little right. Maybe we as individuals need to do better at following Jesus; maybe as the church universal we need to do better at following Jesus. Maybe we could be a little more like Jesus in how we treat one another, in how we speak on behalf of the marginalized and oppressed, in how we tend to our relationships. And maybe we should not be so quick to turn away someone with a word that we might not agree with, for we might not know when we have a prophet in our midst.

And maybe, maybe Andrew Sullivan has it a little wrong. Certainly in many aspects of the institutional church things are a little messed up; I witnessed that last week. Things are divisive, and for many churches things look bleak. But I am not overly worried about the end of Christianity or worried about the death of the church universal that has existed for some 2,000 years.

The thing that Sullivan neglects to mention in his editorial is that Christianity has seen crisis throughout its history. The church universal has faced many storms, and even in our own Presbyterian roots we’ve lived through schisms, difficult transitions, and hard reconciliations. But somehow something holds us together and continues to call us together to live in that tension of disagreement, to be siblings with those with whom we disagree and to even love one another. You know, I know, this is not an easy task. And I can’t imagine that we’d choose it willingly.

But I can imagine that it is possible by God’s grace. For it is the very love of Christ that challenges us to live our lives more like him, that calls us to confess and repent the brokenness in our lives, that binds us together as community. And it is the grace of the Triune God that saves us from our own selves and that holds us together as church. All thanks be to God.

Sermon © Fourth Presbyterian Church

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