Losing to win

“For those who want to save their life will lose it”.(Mark8:35)

Mark 8:27-35 (Year B: Trinity+15)

A gospel for losers..

At the core of this passage is a question followed by a series of answers followed by a warning and an invitation. ‘Who do you say that I am’ can have two meanings:

1. The question that fascinates thinkers, seekers, philosophers, sociologists, anthropologists, theologians ….
2. The question about what the person of Jesus – the real flesh and blood person of 2,000 years ago and the Messiah declared, crucified, risen and present today through faith – means to me this morning as I board the train, walk into the building and grab a sandwich at midday.

Both questions are important but without the second question we are fooling ourselves ….

Mark doesn’t waste words. He might have been a journalist were he writing today….short, one liner, the Point….. He quotes Jesus: ‘for those who want to save their life will lose it’. The flip side is that ‘those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel,will save it.’. What does this losing mean? 

We can listen to the witness of those early disciples who were prepared to face opposition, expulsion and marginalisation if they were lucky (?) enough to avoid torture and death. And the witness of disciples over the  centuries was not different. In today’s world we are reminded regularly of the plight of followers of Jesus – and millions of others – in various parts of their world who literally have their heads cut off for being ‘Nazarenes’.  Choice about following Jesus and living by his values might seem like a private and cosy matter for those of living in fortress Europe and living in the wealthier and freer part of the globe when it comes to all things we take for granted. But, for many millions choosing to stand by their beliefs and stay where they are serving in the communities and families where they have been planted can carry an awful price.

To lose everything can apply not just to material possessions but also to your very own dignity, standing and respect.  Ultimately, the stigma of being a prisoner, a refugee or an ‘alien’ is the ultimate degradation and loss.

The way of thinking revealed by Jesus in this passage of Mark is challenging. It was challenging for Peter who would not hear of the cross and the way of much suffering. Yet, it is Peter – again – who speaks up and takes the lead where others drew back and waited. The impetuous, reckless, sometimes faithless Peter who sticks his neck out only to have it pushed back – in this case by attracting the undiplomatic expression ‘get behind me Satan’ (verse 33). I have sympathy for Peter. At least he tried and tried again and got up each time …. even when he betrayed Jesus for a time.

And what of us?..

This road – that Jesus must follow – will be the same road that his disciples will follow. And what of us?

Losing something we didn’t want in the first place is one thing. Losing something precious, good and prized is another matter. Sometimes, we are called to ‘lose our lives’ for the sake of the gospel and its values. In the chapters that follow in Mark the announcement of the coming passion is repeated – much to the consternation and lack of understanding on those hearing.

Often it is not that we reject the cross but, rather, this particular cross which is not ideal or savoury!  It may be that we want to choose our own cross our way not in ways that take us by surprise and come like the wind ‘from the North-West’ (‘an ghaoth aniar aduaidh’ as the saying goes in Irish Gaelic). If only we could get to choose our own cross life would be easier to anticipate, plan and regulate! One thing is certain – in the life of discipleship as well as every other life – suffering is unavoidable. We can see it as part of the journey towards the full light of resurrection or we can stay in the dark cursing it and wishing it were otherwise. But, none of this takes from the point that suffering is suffering anytime and anywhere. It does not help those suffering to hear others make light of it or over-spiritualise it. Our task as disciples of Jesus who walked this road before us is to bear with the sufferings that come our way and work to alleviate the suffering in others around us.

Not quite what we expected..

We await some good in our lives. When it comes it is not what we had expected. It is like that in this story. People expected a Messiah who would be a mighty king, a popular or not so popular prophet and so on. Nobody expected a suffering servant who would die a disgraceful death on a dumping ground outside the capital city.

This road before me..

The mood of Mark 8 is captured, for me, in that haunting poem written by the well known Irish poet, mystic and political rebel, Pádraic Pearse. While not a supporter of his politically I am always deeply touched by his depth of insight, feeling and courage. (There is more than a hint of the suffering servant Isaiah in this poem).

Ideal (by Pádraic Pearse and translated by Thomas McDonagh)

Naked I saw thee,

O beauty of beauty!

And I blinded my eyes

For fear I should flinch.

I heard thy music,

O sweetness of sweetness!

And I shut my ears

For fear I should fail.

I kissed thy lips

O sweetness of sweetness!

And I hardened my heart

For fear of my ruin.

And I blinded my eyes

And my heart I shut

I hardened my heart

And my love I quenched

I turned my back

On the dream I had shaped

And to this road before me

My face I turned

I set my face

To the road here before me

To the work that I see

To the death that I shall meet

Or, in the original it is as follows:

Fornocht do chonacthú,
a áillenaháille,
is do dhallasmoshúil
areagla go stánfainn.

Do chualas do cheol,
a bhinnenabinne,
is do dhúnasmochluas
areagla go gclisfinn.

Do bhlaiseas do bhéal
a mhilsenamilse,
is do chruasmochroí
areaglamomhillte.

Do dhallasmoshúil,
is mochluas do dhúnas;
do chruasmochroí,
is momhian do mhúchas.

Do thugasmochúl
ar an aisling do chumas,
‘s ar an ród so romham
m’aghaidh do thugas.

Do thugasmoghnúis
ar an ród so romham,
ar an ngníomh do-chim,
‘s ar an mbás do gheobhad.