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Sermon - October 11, 2009


"With Open Hands"

By Rev. Nancy Foran
Mark 10:17-31
The devil was on the prowl one day - out to get a Christian. He found one, and the two stood facing each other, each determined to hold his ground and not be defeated.

First the devil shot one of his fiery darts, and it struck the Christian full on the chest. However (drum roll please), the Christian had on the breastplate of righteousness and so was not harmed.

Next, the devil shot at the Christian's head (another drum roll please), but that was protected by the helmet of salvation. The Christian continued to stand tall. Not disillusioned, the devil figured everyone has an Achilles' heel, so he shot at the Christian's feet (yet a third drum roll please). You guessed it. Those feet were shod with the gospel of peace, so no harm was done.

The Christian now smiled confidently at the devil as he turned around and began to walk away. However, the devil smiled as well and fired a fourth arrow, this time into the Christian's wallet, and it killed him instantly.

Did you know that upwards of 40% of what Jesus teaches about in the Synoptic gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke, 40% of these teachings are about money or use economic metaphors? This may not be Stewardship Sunday, but money and all that it represents to Jesus is a hot topic any Sunday.

And so today the lectionary points us to a Gospel story that is perhaps the saddest story in the New Testament. You see, this young man – or ruler - who speaks to Jesus is the only person anywhere in the Gospels who is invited to follow the rabbi but refuses the call. His hands are just too full of his wealth and riches to grasp the hand outstretched to him.

Of course, the story begins on a promising note. The young man seeks out Jesus for advice, wondering how he can obtain – or, as he says, inherit – you know, like your grandmother’s antique clock or your father’s lucrative stock portfolio – how he can get his hands on eternal life.

In all sincerity, for surely he sensed something missing in his life, the young man has asked a big question, and so Jesus gives him a big answer. First the rabbi rattles off the Ten Commandments, which every good Jew knew by heart anyway though I wonder if the young man caught the subtle change in them that Jesus made (Did you?) by replacing “Don’t covet” with “Don’t cheat” – perhaps highlighting for those who had ears to hear that in a society where one is either filthy rich like the young man or dirt poor like the rest of the population, the rich can not help but add to the suffering of the poor and that simple fact – intentional or unintentional - pains the heart of God so much.

But the young man is proud to say that from his perspective he has done OK with the commandments, with the Law of Moses. After all, he was a good Jewish boy raised in the synagogue. But Jesus isn’t through yet. Remember, the young man asked him a BIG question, and so Jesus is going to give him a BIG answer.

"Stop worrying about all the rules and regulations," Jesus told him next. "Stop fiddling with the minor adjustments to your character. Do something really basic with your life. Sell all the stuff that makes you feel important and successful and come follow me."

In short, Jesus cautions the young man to get out of the ten easy steps to self-improvement mode. It is not enough to be just respectable. And so he tells the young man to get rid of everything in his hands – sell all that he has and give the proceeds to the poor. And even that is not enough. When you have done all that, come, he says, come and follow me.

We never really hear how things turn out for the rich young man. We just know that he goes away from Jesus very sad, because he had great wealth, and emptying his hands was more than he could bear to do.

Empty hands. It’s tough. We really are not programmed that way. There is a story, I am told, that happened in Oklahoma City to a man on the local speaker circuit. He had just finished his talk, and people were coming up to ask questions and continue the discussion. After a while, an old Native American – a Cherokee - stood in front of the speaker. He had a large and elaborate belt buckle in his hands. It was a swirl of multi-colored beads. 'Please accept this gift,' he said.

The speaker was a little taken aback, but he had a quick response: 'Thank you. It's beautiful. But I can't accept it.

'Why not?' the Native American asked with a puzzled look.

The speaker laughed and pointed to the expanse beneath his chest. 'Well, would you want to call attention to this stomach with a large, beautiful belt buckle?' he quipped.

The giver of the gift did not smile. He simply extended the belt buckle again. 'Please accept this,' he said again.

'It's too expensive,' the speaker replied, which was probably much closer to the truth of the matter. After all, the belt buckle was clearly hand-crafted and had a look of elegance about it.

'You know,' said the Cherokee, 'you can give it to someone else.'

That is the first thing we can take away from this difficult to swallow passage this morning. As Jesus pointed out to the young man and so in turn points out to us, our hands are full of all that makes us feel secure. Our hands are so full that it is hard – if not nearly impossible - to grasp the hand of God that reaches out to us and seeks to pull us into the kingdom where the needs of others always come first. But it is so hard to contemplate giving it away to someone else.

Even the disciples are perplexed by the incident with the rich young man – and their questions certainly are not cleared up when Jesus astonished them by continuing with these words:

"How hard it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of God. It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of God."

You see, the disciples, like the young man and perhaps like us, were raised to believe that earthly wealth was a sign of God's blessing. Why would you relinquish the single most visible sign that you are on God’s good side?

William Willamon, formerly the Chaplain at Duke University, recently noted that “today's gospel reminds us that there are good, understandable, reasonable reasons for not following Jesus. Jesus is too often presented by us, from the best of motives, as the solution to all our problems, the way to fix everything that's wrong in our lives. But this story reminds us that Jesus is sometimes the beginning of problems we would never have had if we had not been met by Jesus!” You see, Jesus is always demanding something risky, something radical of us.

“Taking risks? Being radical? Yikes! Who then is saved?” the disciples – forever the practical ones - asked.

“Well, for a starter, you can not do it without the help of God, but with God – because of God’s grace - the road is much easier,” Jesus replies.

And Peter, for once being the realistic one of the Twelve, asks, “What about those of us who have abandoned everything for you?” And Jesus replies once again with a truth that shatters some and comforts others, “Mark my words, no one who comes to me with open hands and with hearts open to the Message I bring will lose out.”

At the root of the Message he brings, of course, is the challenge to trust in the grace of God enough that we will allow our hands be empty and open, that we will take risks, be radical, engage life in a new way, in a way that makes a difference.

The story is told that Clarence Jordan, that great Southern, social prophet, visited an integrated church in the Deep South. Jordan was surprised to find a relatively large church so thoroughly integrated, not only black and white but also rich and poor; and this was in the early sixties, too. Jordan asked the old country preacher, "How did you get the church this way?"

"What way?" the preacher asked. Jordan went on to explain his surprise at finding a church so integrated, and in the South, too.

The preacher said, "Well, when our preacher left our small church, I went to the deacons and said, 'I'll be the preacher.' The first Sunday as preacher, I opened the book and read, 'As many of you as has been baptized into Jesus has put on Jesus and there is no longer any Jews or Greeks, slaves or free, males or females, because you all is one in Jesus.'

Then I closed the book and I said, 'If you are one with Jesus, you are one with all kind of folks. And if you ain't, well, you ain't.'"

Jordan asked what happened after that. "Well," the preacher said, "the deacons took me into the back room and they told me they didn't want to hear that kind of preaching no more."

Jordan asked what he did then. "I fired them deacons," the preacher roared.

"Then what happened?" asked Jordan.

"Well," said the old hillbilly preacher, "I preached that church down to four. Not long after that, it started growing. And it grew. And I found out that revival sometimes don't mean bringin' people in but gettin' people out that don't dare to love Jesus." And therein lies the second thing we can take from this passage today.

You see, I know that we think of ourselves here as a church that dares to love Jesus. We think of ourselves as a church that actively seeks to make a difference. We believe that we are a church with hands open enough to reach out and grasp the hand of God. And in so many ways we are and we do.

But I would also submit that we must be involved in an ongoing process of self-examination. And I don’t mean just the Council or Mission either – but each one of us who consider ourselves to be part of this church family has important questions to ask and answer.

How are we engaging with the community in Raymond, with the nation, with the rest of the world? Are we willing to be risky, radical, and bold? Are we prepared to commit ourselves to new and relevant ways of reaching out – not just through missions, but also through education, through fellowship, through more relevant pastoral care? Do we dare to make a statement – a clear public statement – about the kingdom that away puts others first?

How open are our hands – and can we firmly grasp the holy hand that reaches out to us? That was the question to the rich young man millennia ago – and that is still the question to us today.