Who Knows?
July 9, 2006
5th Sunday of Pentecost B
Mark 6:1-13
I read this story early this week:
One day an old Chinese farmer’s horse escaped into the ills and when all the farmers neighbors sympathized with the old man over his bad luck, the farmer replied, Bad luck? Who knows? A week later the horse returned with a herd of wild horses from the hills and this time the neighbors congratulated the farmer on his good luck. His reply was, Good luck? Bad luck? Who knows? Then, when the farmers son was attempting to tame one of the wild horses, he fell off its back and broke his leg. Everyone thought this very bad luck. Not the farmer, whose only reaction was, Bad luck? Good luck? Who knows? Some weeks later the army marched into the village and conscripted every able-bodied youth they found there. When they saw the farmers son with his broken leg they let him off. Now was that good luck? Bad luck? Who knows?
What I like about this story is that the man stood back a little before deciding what was what. He seemed to know there might be a bigger picture than the one he could currently see. He knew he maybe didn’t have all the information he needed.
This Chinese farmer has been sitting beside me this week as I've read the texts for today, sitting next to me, prodding me with his peculiar wisdom. In today’s story Jesus goes to his home town, enters the synagogue and begins to speak. At first the people are proud of him - doesn't he sound smart? But then their comments quickly shift and they try to put him in his place - isn’t this the carpenter (tekton, which actually means builder, and might mean stone worker), isn’t he Mary’s son? (this is actually a bit of an insult, and he is pointedly not called Joseph's son. In fact, Joseph is not mentioned anywhere in Mark.) In other words, isn’t he getting above his raising spouting off like this? They are so negative he can’t do anything there, although just before this he healed people if they touched his clothes.
We know about this dynamic - we are proud of our children and proud of what they do, although we certainly know what it is they should do. Small towns, communities, neighborhoods, extended families get uncomfortable if the children come home too smart, too different - are they suggesting something is wrong with the way we live our lives? If only that Chinese farmer had been there to say, "Carpenter, prophet, Who knows?" But he wasn't there that day.
Fresh off this experience Jesus sends out his twelve, carrying almost nothing, to teach and heal in various communities. He gives them explicit instructions about how to find a house and stay there, and also about how to leave if necessary. These instructions about shaking the dust off their feet are harsher than we naturally think: it is a sharp sign against them, some say a curse. And when they find places of faith, great things happen, and the disciples are able to heal.
My clergy group discussed this at length this week: do we as Jesus followers’ shake the dust off our feet when our sharing of the message isn’t received? Do we judge others? Is this an easy excuse for us if we don’t want to try anything new, or if people don’t come to our church? (Just shake the dust off. Don’t worry about them.) There is a sense of letting go here, of offering healing and teaching knowing that we cannot control the outcome. We are responsible for being obedient, but the results are God’s. We leave the results to God. Good or bad, who knows? Something larger is at work here than we ourselves.
This Chinese farmer has been bugging me this week, his careful “who knows?” It isn’t a Minnesotan “whatever” but a thoughtful response that suggests that maybe we shouldn’t be so smug about everything. Thinking about him, reading these stories, has pushed me to yet another way of looking at these stories?
Are we sure we know who we are in these two stories? Clergy always think of themselves as the messengers sent out by Jesus, the ones speaking in the synagogue. Is that how you hear them too? Are we the followers of Jesus, the ones full of faith who know so well what Jesus can really do?
Or might we be the folks in the synagogue who think they know this Jesus, who've known him their whole lives, who think they know just what he has to offer, and who aren’t going to be told something new about what God is doing?
Might we be the folks in those towns who don’t welcome the disciples, those new messengers, who have the dust shaken off at us, who think this new way of understanding God is not right, the way we grew up is just fine, thank you very much?
Can we be so sure we know which part we play in these stories? Who knows?
God knows. And we trust that God works in all of it - in what we offer, in what we hear, in how we meet Jesus, in how we offer healing or shut our doors. God’s work never comes to the point where we can say - well; that’s it. It’s all done. That’s over. No. It is always: Who knows? God knows. Amen.
5th Sunday of Pentecost B
Mark 6:1-13
I read this story early this week:
One day an old Chinese farmer’s horse escaped into the ills and when all the farmers neighbors sympathized with the old man over his bad luck, the farmer replied, Bad luck? Who knows? A week later the horse returned with a herd of wild horses from the hills and this time the neighbors congratulated the farmer on his good luck. His reply was, Good luck? Bad luck? Who knows? Then, when the farmers son was attempting to tame one of the wild horses, he fell off its back and broke his leg. Everyone thought this very bad luck. Not the farmer, whose only reaction was, Bad luck? Good luck? Who knows? Some weeks later the army marched into the village and conscripted every able-bodied youth they found there. When they saw the farmers son with his broken leg they let him off. Now was that good luck? Bad luck? Who knows?
What I like about this story is that the man stood back a little before deciding what was what. He seemed to know there might be a bigger picture than the one he could currently see. He knew he maybe didn’t have all the information he needed.
This Chinese farmer has been sitting beside me this week as I've read the texts for today, sitting next to me, prodding me with his peculiar wisdom. In today’s story Jesus goes to his home town, enters the synagogue and begins to speak. At first the people are proud of him - doesn't he sound smart? But then their comments quickly shift and they try to put him in his place - isn’t this the carpenter (tekton, which actually means builder, and might mean stone worker), isn’t he Mary’s son? (this is actually a bit of an insult, and he is pointedly not called Joseph's son. In fact, Joseph is not mentioned anywhere in Mark.) In other words, isn’t he getting above his raising spouting off like this? They are so negative he can’t do anything there, although just before this he healed people if they touched his clothes.
We know about this dynamic - we are proud of our children and proud of what they do, although we certainly know what it is they should do. Small towns, communities, neighborhoods, extended families get uncomfortable if the children come home too smart, too different - are they suggesting something is wrong with the way we live our lives? If only that Chinese farmer had been there to say, "Carpenter, prophet, Who knows?" But he wasn't there that day.
Fresh off this experience Jesus sends out his twelve, carrying almost nothing, to teach and heal in various communities. He gives them explicit instructions about how to find a house and stay there, and also about how to leave if necessary. These instructions about shaking the dust off their feet are harsher than we naturally think: it is a sharp sign against them, some say a curse. And when they find places of faith, great things happen, and the disciples are able to heal.
My clergy group discussed this at length this week: do we as Jesus followers’ shake the dust off our feet when our sharing of the message isn’t received? Do we judge others? Is this an easy excuse for us if we don’t want to try anything new, or if people don’t come to our church? (Just shake the dust off. Don’t worry about them.) There is a sense of letting go here, of offering healing and teaching knowing that we cannot control the outcome. We are responsible for being obedient, but the results are God’s. We leave the results to God. Good or bad, who knows? Something larger is at work here than we ourselves.
This Chinese farmer has been bugging me this week, his careful “who knows?” It isn’t a Minnesotan “whatever” but a thoughtful response that suggests that maybe we shouldn’t be so smug about everything. Thinking about him, reading these stories, has pushed me to yet another way of looking at these stories?
Are we sure we know who we are in these two stories? Clergy always think of themselves as the messengers sent out by Jesus, the ones speaking in the synagogue. Is that how you hear them too? Are we the followers of Jesus, the ones full of faith who know so well what Jesus can really do?
Or might we be the folks in the synagogue who think they know this Jesus, who've known him their whole lives, who think they know just what he has to offer, and who aren’t going to be told something new about what God is doing?
Might we be the folks in those towns who don’t welcome the disciples, those new messengers, who have the dust shaken off at us, who think this new way of understanding God is not right, the way we grew up is just fine, thank you very much?
Can we be so sure we know which part we play in these stories? Who knows?
God knows. And we trust that God works in all of it - in what we offer, in what we hear, in how we meet Jesus, in how we offer healing or shut our doors. God’s work never comes to the point where we can say - well; that’s it. It’s all done. That’s over. No. It is always: Who knows? God knows. Amen.
posted by Michelle at 1:59 PM
1 Comments:
Dear Pastor Michelle,
I loved this message, I love how everything is left in God's hands. We really don't know what the outcome will always be. It takes faith to be able to "shake the dust off" and know that God is in control and we are not. And it is good to remember that God can minister to people in many different ways, it doesn't always have to be "OUR" way. God bless you in your ministry. I am so glad I stumbled across your sermons!
Amber :)
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