Untitled Sermon

In our Gospel passage today, Jesus tells His disciples and the crowds that in order to follow Him, they must first deny themselves by “taking up their cross.’ When I heard teachings on this passage as I was growing up, this verse from Mark’s gospel was almost always linked to Paul’s message in Romans 12, where he calls on the Romans to offer themselves as a living sacrifice to the Lord. The takeaway in these lessons was almost always some version of, “our job is to deny ourselves of earthly pleasures so that we can receive the gifts of heaven after we die." When this kind of lesson is taught to kids, or teens, it usually comes with some more specific instructions that—regardless of whether the teacher meant for it to sound this way—sounded like: “don’t party, don’t do drugs, don’t drink beer, don’t have sex, basically don’t do anything that your young teenage brain think is fun, so you can go to heaven after you die.” Now, aside from being probably the worst imaginable strategy to attract young people to faith in Christ, this approach is also bad theology. The Good News of Jesus Christ is salvation by faith, not by the actions we do or do not perform. In effect, this theology actually muddles the purpose of the cross.

As I reflected on this in preparation for this sermon, I asked myself the question, “what is the cross, really?” What I discovered by asking this question took me down a completely different path in understanding this teaching from Jesus. You see, at the point that Jesus is teaching here, the cross is not seen as an alter for sacrifice. That understanding and theological perception comes around after Jesus’ crucifixion. Surely the wise teacher Jesus didn’t expect his audience to see into the future to understand the meaning of his teaching, so how did they understand the cross? The cross to them, was a torture device. It was for executions. And not just any executions—the cross was designed by the Romans to make an example of those who threatened their authority as the empire.

So, if being hung on a cross was the penalty for challenging Roman authority… what does this mean Jesus is asking His followers to do? To pick up a cross, then, is to rebel—just as Jesus did. Jesus was executed by the Roman state because he was seen as a threat to the political authorities, the religious authorities, and even to the power of those who were socially privileged based upon their sex, nationality, or the ability of their bodies. To take up our cross, then, is to rebel as Jesus did, against any power of injustice, and anything that unequally distributes the love of God or status as a divine image-bearer. Jesus also knew that when we take these kinds of stances against injustice, there are often consequences dealt by those against whom we rebel. Christian history has given us many great examples of this, and I’d like to focus on a couple of them this morning.

If any of you still have wall-calendars hanging in your homes—for the children and youth listening, a wall calendar is a lot like the Google calendar in your phones, but its made of paper and usually hung on the wall with a tack—if any of you have these calendars hanging in your homes, or maybe in your office, you probably found that the background for this month is the color pink, purple, or red, and there are probably little hearts around there too. The reason for this, of course, is that Valentines day is the hallmark holiday (pun intended) of the month of February. Many of us know relatively little about St. Valentine, but a piece of his story is actually an excellent example of what it means to pick up our cross for Christ.

Sometime around the year 270, the emperor of Rome was Claudius II. Claudius was having a difficult time recruiting enough men to be soldiers in his military, and he suspected this was due to their attachment and commitment to their wives and families. In order to remedy the problem, Claudius issued a decree prohibiting new marriages throughout the empire, suddenly creating a large military recruitment pool of strong, handsome, toga-wearing bachelors. St. Valentine was a holy priest in Rome at this time, and he saw the injustice in Claudius’ order. In secret, Valentine continued to officiate weddings for young couples in the city. When the emperor discovered what Valentine was up to, he order him to be beheaded, and his execution was carried out on February 14th—our Valentine’s Day. St. Valentine is an excellent example of picking up a cross against injustice, and in this case, it ended up costing him a lot more than beer.

Switching from our wall calendars to our church calendars, this Sunday is the second Sunday of Lent, meaning we are now in a season of preparation oriented toward the celebration of Easter. This year, Easter Sunday falls on April 4th, which will also be the 53rd anniversary of the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr. In his remarkable life, Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. sparked and led a massive civil rights movement that challenged the powers of whiteness in America like nothing that had ever been seen before. This movement was the beginning of the end for the era of segregation in the United States. And even then, Martin Luther King doubled down, insisting that the campaign for Civil Rights be nonviolent. He was adamant that violence only creates more violence, that change created through violence is inherently temporary, and that only peaceful means can bring about change that lasts. On April 4th, 1968, in his Memphis hotel room, Martin Luther King was assassinated by a bullet fired by a white supremacist. Even after his murder, Martin Luther King Jr. remains the foremost icon in the movement for American Civil Rights.

The month of February is also recognized by the US government as Black History Month, and throughout this month artist Scott Erickson, who was also my preaching professor at Warner Pacific, has been releasing a series of pieces on his Instagram that depict Jesus living out his life and ministry in the setting of segregation-era United States. I’d like to show you a couple of these pieces this morning.

The first piece, is called Segregated Drinking Fountains. The description by Erickson says,

“This image depicts Jesus speaking to a woman at a well. He meets with her in her specific situation and in their conversation He reveals one of His big secrets which is ‘𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘐 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵. 𝘐𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘥, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘐 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘢 𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦.’⁣”

“What a conversation to experience! And yet if this gospel story happened at a certain time in American history, say when certain types of bodies could only drink from certain wells, if you’re white, you might have missed it.”

The next piece is called Segregated Restaurants. Erickson says,

“This image depicts Jesus offering the bread and the cup to the disciples during the last supper while using the template of a very famous photograph taken during the countertop sit-ins. To his disciples, Jesus offers his body & blood as a sign of a new Communion saying ‘do this in remembrance of me.’” ⁣ What a meal to experience! And yet if this gospel story happened at a certain time in American history, say when certain types of bodies could only eat at certain tables, if you were white, you might have missed it.”

I might have missed it. We might have missed it.

One of my favorite things about St. Andrew is the way our church is involved in issues of justice. We engage racial justice specifically through table talks and Reconciling with Racism, and we engage justice in broader senses through participating in groups like the Metropolitan Alliance for the Common Good and the Interfaith Movement for Immigrant Justice, among many others. These commitments to justice are some of the main reasons I was attracted St. Andrew Lutheran, and I truly believe these things are powerful evidence of the heart of our church and our witness to Christ.

And, we clearly still have work to do in our modern nation, as this week an independent investigation revealed wrongdoing by both police and paramedics in the death of Elijah McClain in August of 2019. It said that Elijah, a 23-year-old, five-foot-seven, 140-pound, autistic black male, was stopped by Aurora police as he was walking down the street, because someone called in a report of a suspicious person in the area. The investigation called into question even this initial stop, as it says, “none of the officers articulated a crime that they thought Mr. McClain had committed, was committing or was about to commit.” Eventually, Elijah was put into a chokehold by an officer, and the paramedics—who took police at their word that Elijah was delirious—sedated him with an injection of ketamine that was appropriate for someone more than 50 pounds larger. It is clear that we still have a lot of work to do.

I have a third Scott Erickson piece I’d like to show you today, and this one is called Segregated Worship. About this one, the artist says,

“This image depicts Jesus’ crucifixion juxtaposed w/ the usage of a burning cross. Crucifixion was a public torture device used by ancient rulers to intimidate local dissidents to stay in line w/ Imperial policies . A burning cross was used by self-proclaimed rulers to intimidate black Americans to stay in line with race-based policies.⁣”

He says, “The frightening truth about the cross is that it can lead to spiritual poverty. The poverty comes from only understanding the cross from one side.”

He adds, “There is much to learn from communities who’s spirituality has been practiced out of a non-dominant societal experience. They know a Jesus that I have never met… because I never had to.⁣”

Martin Luther King Jr once said, “it is appalling that the most segregated hour in Christian America is 11 o’clock on Sunday Morning.” 50 years after his death, King would probably still feel the same way today, as churches in America are still divided into white church and black church. If we had that image, with white church on one side and black church on the other, how different does it look today? In our case, we don’t have a burning cross in the middle—in fact, we have a welcome statement. A beautiful welcome statement. Yet, if we were to look at that artwork and say, “find St. Andrew,” I don’t think it would be hard for us. I think our kids could do it.

To pick up the cross that Martin Luther King carried is to take a good hard look at white church. White churches, especially those with ample financial resources, are consolidations of a lot of power and privilege. There is no doubt in my mind, and I’m sure you agree, that St. Andrew is welcoming. There is no doubt in my mind, and I’m sure you’ll agree, that St. Andrew is loving. There is no doubt in my mind, and I’m sure you’ll agree, that St. Andrew cares about justice and equality. And, the ELCA is the whitest denomination in America. And, the racial makeup of St. Andrew reflects that. It is our calling to pick up our cross and ask, “why?” Is it circumstance? Is it cultural? Is it the type of music? Is it historical? Have we successfully voiced our repentance from the sins of our white Christian ancestors? There are many difficult questions we will need to ask. And we must ask them. Because as Erickson reminds us, there is danger in segregation, whether intentional or unintentional. There is the danger that we might miss out by only understanding the cross from one side.

May the Wisdom of the Father guide us in asking these tough questions; may the life of Jesus be our example as we seek the more difficult answers, and may the compelling of the Holy Spirit continually keep us from complacency. Amen.