Building a new team
Commentary
When Vince Lombardi was hired as head coach of the Green Bay Packers in 1958, the team was in dismal shape. A single win in season play the year before had socked the club solidly into the basement of the NFL, and sportscasters everywhere used it as the butt of loser jokes. But Lombardi picked and pulled and prodded and trained and disciplined the players into becoming a winning team. They were NFL champions in three consecutive seasons, and took the game honors for the first two Super Bowls.
Lombardi was a drill sergeant and a strategist, finding and developing the best in each of his players individually and then crafting a team community that could visualize the prize. "Winning isn't everything," he was often quoted as saying, "It's the only thing!" And his Packers proved him true, time and again.
Coaching is nothing without a team that responds. Leaders are merely overblown egos if there is no one who will follow. During the tumultuous French Revolution of 1789, mobs and madmen rushed through Paris streets. One journalist reported a wide-eyed, wild-haired wastrel lumbering along one day, feverishly demanding from all he saw, "Where is the crowd? I must find them! I am their leader!"
But just as surely, there is no team without a leader. People will mill about, or wander aimlessly. Isaiah, and later Jesus, saw the Israelites as sheep scattered on a hillside with no shepherd to guide them. England without Churchill was a patchwork of competing ideologies, stymied at the crossroads of the twentieth century's critical international events. India before Gandhi lacked cohesive identity and played a game of competitive kowtowing to expatriate authorities, and was only turned around when he helped inspire a national common cause.
In each of today's lectionary passages, there is a new team being called into existence by a great leader. God lays claim on Abraham and his descendents, telling the patriarch that the entire world is the new playing field, and all its national teams will be shaped by the new forays Abraham's family team will run. Paul remembers this event in his letter to the Romans and uses it as the rallying cry that sends the Christian church on its global mission. And Jesus, when facing his own demise, calls to the crowds to join him in the greatest endeavor ever attempted on planet earth -- the overthrow of the truly demonic "Evil Empire."
Genesis 17:1-7, 15-16
In the world of the Bible, Genesis functions as the prologue to the covenant God makes with Israel at Mount Sinai (Exodus 20-24). Modeled after the Suzerain-Vassal covenants widely used in that day to organize affairs between kings and subjects, these covenants had standardized parts. The prologue rehearsed the background to the making of the covenant, and gave the reasons why it was necessary. Genesis is built, literarily, in four major sections that each help Israel understand a portion of the historical necessity that brought about this treaty ratification. Chapters 1-11 tell of the good world God created and the nasty civil war that has threatened to destroy it. Chapters 12-25 speak of Abraham and the way that God selected him to head the team which would become the advance troops in taking back God's world from the evil intruders. Chapters 26-36 are a character study of how Jacob becomes "Israel" (one who struggles with God) and thus bequeaths the nation with a name and an identity. Chapters 37-50 focus on Joseph, and describe how the nation eventually wound up in Egypt, from which it has so recently emerged.
Genesis 17 is part of the second section of the book, and God is building a new team. God's covenant-making initiatives with Abram begin in chapter 12; this episode is actually the fourth such scene in just six chapters. That ought to alert the reader to the critical changes which surface in this new covenant-making event. Along with the parity agreements between individuals of similar social rank in the ancient world (think of Jacob and Laban forming their parity treaty at the end of Genesis 31), there were two forms of king-subject covenants. One was a "Royal Grant." This was essentially a gift bestowed by a person of power and political privilege upon someone down-caste a rung or more. Usually the king noticed an act of bravery in battle, or striking beauty in the ballroom, or uncommon beneficence in bearing, and gave a gift in public recognition (so Persian king, Xerxes, to Mordecai in Esther 3-4). In each case the grant was a one-way act, with no specific reciprocal deed required.
The second type of king-subject covenant, the "Suzerain-Vassal treaty," was quite different, however. It moved on a two-way street, and both gave and expected much. When ratified, kings would provide safety and food and shelter and relief and community building grants, while the people were obligated to pay taxes, offer troops for the regiments, send food supplies, and enlist in government work projects. Rather than merely a bequest awarded by one to the other as was true with the royal grant, the Suzerain-Vassal treaty ensured that both parties invest in the relationship.
Interestingly, in the series of covenants developed between God and Abram in Genesis 12-17, the first three (Genesis 12, 13, 15) appear to be "royal grants." Each time a gift is proffered -- land (twice) and a biological heir who will help establish a great Abram-family nation. Strikingly, after each royal grant is spoken, Abram seems to lose confidence in the gift. Rather than stay in the land of promise, he runs to Egypt to find better grazing for his crops and food sources for his crew. Similarly, instead of mating again with wife, Sarai, to realize a biological heir, Abram and the younger Hagar bond to produce Ishmael. Three times God makes royal grants with Abram, and each time Abram takes matters into his own hands.
This time, however, God changes tactics, and Abram comes out of the deal with a transformed heart. It is a Suzerain-Vassal covenant that is being crafted here in chapter 17. God promises land and blessings and descendents, but God also calls Abram to respond with faith and fealty. Abram is not merely the target of a nice gift; now he is called to share the mind and the mission of the Maker. God declares name changes for Abram and Sarai, and also requires the act of circumcision which will publicly mark all the males of the family as "owned" by God.
The outcome to this fourth covenant-making event is strikingly different than that following the previous three. Most notably, when pushed to the limit of trust in Genesis 22, the new Abraham gives evidence that his covenant relationship with God supersedes all other loyalties and commitments. Because of the Suzerain-Vassal covenant established in Genesis 17, faith sticks in Abraham's life.
Of course, for the Israelites at Mount Sinai reviewing this history, the lesson would be clear. God's gifts alone do not bind us into God's redemptive enterprises. A faith response and loyal service round out the picture. Without investment on our part, no great blessing of God lingers for our enjoyment. Abraham and his descendents form a great team because they have a great coach who gives the right incentives and demands the right stuff in return.
Romans 4:13-25
Abbott and Costello entranced an earlier generation with their side-splitting routine "Who's on First?" Pretending to discuss the players of a baseball team, names were confused with positions until tracking the game became an exercise in futility.
Among the religious discussions of Paul's day there was a similar confusion of identities. For some, evil was inherent in the system like yin's twin, yang. For others, humans had incurred the wrath of the gods and were punished through the spread of vices that flowed out of Pandora's mythical box. Others still believed divine perfection was trapped by a mean-spirited creator into the corrupt and forgetful stuff of human flesh, awaiting magical gnostic liberation.
Paul penned this letter while spending the winter in Corinth at the close of his third mission journey. He was preparing to leave for Jerusalem with offerings collected throughout Greece, Macedonia, and Asia Minor which were intended to alleviate the needs of the poor in Palestine (ch. 15). Paul hoped to embark on another mission journey soon thereafter, and this time stop in Rome on his way to Spain and the western reaches of the empire.
Paul's design in the first part of this letter (1:19--3:20) is to give a different view of the origins of evil. God is good; creation is good; and human alienation from the good is a late introduction brought about by our sinful choices. For Paul's audience in Rome, made up of both Jewish and Gentile Christians, the message communicated is that neither has the religious advantage over the other. All of humanity had the same opportunities to remain in fellowship with the Creator, and all are equally responsible for their distance from God.
But now, in chapter 4, Paul turns a theological corner and explains how God initiates a restoration of relationships with humanity. All are welcome to be part of the new team. The captain is Jesus and the most valuable player is Abraham. No player joins the team because of skills, nor is any drafted based upon a previous winning record. All are brought on in the same way that Abraham came: receiving a uniform as a gift and believing that the captain shapes the only winning team in spite of all odds.
Several things are particularly noteworthy in this passage. First, "righteousness" in Romans (beginning with Paul's great assertion in 1:17-18) can be interpreted either as the unattainable holiness of God by which we are judged as inadequate, or as the reassertion of God's intended good designs for God's creation. Here it becomes obvious that the latter approach seems more consistent with Paul's more fully developed message. "Righteousness" is God's way of restoring what was ruined by sin and placed out of reach by "law."
Second, the covenant promises made to Abraham in Genesis 12-17 and clearly intended there as unfolding biologically, are here spiritualized to describe a new people that transcends national boundaries or ethnic definitions. But this must not be taken as a new theology or a change in divine plans. After all, God's intent was to bless all nations of the earth through Abraham's family. Here is the outcome of that divine plan. This knowledge is important for the congregation in Rome, since it was made up of both Jew and Gentile believers. They must see themselves as co-equal in their stance before God, and Paul explains how this is possible.
Third, Paul affirms that all of this is possible because of Jesus. He is the expression of God's righteousness inserted recently into our world, and the means by which we are attached to the righteous endeavors of God. He is the glue that binds the team together and keeps them connected both to the owner and the game.
Mark 8:31-38
Mark's Gospel (as is true for the other synoptic gospels, Matthew and Luke) seems to have three major sections. The first section focuses on Jesus' healing and teaching activity as it widely spread throughout Galilee. When Jesus speaks, his theme is most often the character of "the kingdom of God." Then, secondly, comes the recital of Jesus' more intimate conversations about discipleship. The third major portion is devoted to Jesus' final week in Jerusalem, culminating with his trial, death, and resurrection. The transitions from section to section are the same in all three gospels -- between the first and second occurs Jesus' transfiguration; between the second and the third is Jesus' entry into Jerusalem.
With that in mind, it is clear to see that our lectionary reading for today concludes the first section of Mark's Gospel. By this time, according to Mark, Jesus has clearly expressed his divine power and wisdom. Enough so, in fact, that he can begin to speak about the sacrificial death toward which he is heading.
The occasion of Jesus' new disclosure is striking. He and his disciples are in the far north of Palestine, wandering among the tree-lined streams on the slopes of Mount Hermon. Waters gush from natural springs at the foot of the mountain, and some bubble from caves. For centuries, people had considered this place a gateway into the underworld and a haunt of the gods. Among these sacred shrines, Jesus asks his disciples if they truly understand who he is. Prophets and priests appeared here regularly, and Jesus could well be just another face in that mixed crowd. Even the residents of Caesarea Philippi might assume such about Jesus, but Jesus cannot move to the next phase of his ministry if his own little band is uncertain. So Jesus asks the important questions, and proffers the affirmation of Peter's important answer (8:27-30).
Peter's confidence is raised by Jesus' public recognition of him, so when the master next speaks, and tells of his impending suffering and death, Peter feels the need to intervene. Jesus uses the occasion to declare the parameters of the new team he is creating. It is not Peter's insubordination that calls out the rebuke, but Peter's misunderstanding of the game plan and its goal. Winning, for Jesus, means playing by a set of rules that have not been used for a long time on planet earth. It is like the "deep magic" of Aslan in C. S. Lewis' great tale, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. Most don't understand it, but without it the game becomes a never-ending cycle of violence in which there are only losers.
For that reason, Jesus moves from his reprimand of Peter to a brief exhortation about the characteristics that mark those on his team. It is not self-preservation but service that counts. It is not superiority but selflessness that wins points. It is not stridency but sacrifice that finds recognition from the owner of the club.
Jesus is putting together a team that will change the world. Unfortunately, few people seem to show up at the try-outs.
Application
There is a scene in Tolkien's The Fellowship of the Ring where a partnership is forged among those who would accompany Frodo on his journey to destroy the ring of power. The movie version makes for a very gripping visual illustration, and the original literary text is equally as moving. What comes through is a sense of selflessness as the bond that unites these creatures. Furthermore, each subsumes his will to the greater cause, and trusts an unseen and transcendent good for an outcome that will bless all of Middle Earth, even if the trek itself causes the demise of any or all of the compatriots.
So it is in these biblical glimpses of the mission of God. In a world turned cold to its Creator, in an age riddled by Delphic oracles and temple prostitutes and emperors claiming divinity, in a little corner of geography where messianic hopes ran high, God calls together a strange team to make its mark by playing a different game. Walter Wangerin, Jr.'s, great allegory, The Book of the Dun Cow (as well as its wonderful sequel, The Book of Sorrows), captures both the scope of the divine mission as well as the underrated character of the team. It is well worth a read in preparation for today's message. If the focus remains on the team apart from the mission, the point is lost. God is reclaiming God's creation, but does so through human agency. The game is fierce and the playing field is rough. Only those who can tear up their personal score sheets in order to get into God's game will make the team. Only they are truly called. Only they are equipped to serve and follow and play on the greatest winning team of all time.
An Alternative Application
Mark 8:31-38. On this second Sunday in Lent it might be profitable to focus on Jesus' gospel teaching. He is on the road to the cross, and he calls others to join him in that pilgrimage. Lent is a time of self-denial, and Jesus' words are a strong call to that vocation, not as an end in itself or as a means to a self-help goal (like dieting), but rather as a counter-cultural missional testimony. Those who travel this Lenten road are not first of all focused on Easter but on Good Friday; they do not presume a glorious outcome that gathers the media like paparazzi vultures, but sense that the journey of service brings light in darkness, hope in despair, healing for pain, and faith where power corrupts and destroys.
It is important to remember, though, that the Sundays in Lent do not belong to Lent. They are not Sundays of Lent in the way that the Sundays of Advent are owned by that season. When counting the forty days of this season, beginning at Ash Wednesday, it becomes clear that the Sundays are not registered in the tally. Because we live in a post-Easter world, the Sundays during Lent are oases of grace in what could otherwise become a horrible time of flagellation without mercy. While the theme of discipleship must carry us down a path of self-denial, it must not lose sight of grace. Easter grace. Divine grace. Life-giving grace. This is why any who would echo Peter's plea for a nicer and more sanitized version of Jesus' biography actually undermine the power of divine favor. For, as Dietrich Bonhoeffer so eloquently wrote, "... grace is always free, but it is never cheap"; only those who understand The Cost of Discipleship revel in the songs of grace that ring even on these Sundays during Lent.
Preaching The Psalm
Psalm 22:23-31
Take a look around and conduct an informal survey. Who is it that we lift up in our culture? What kind of people garner praise and adoration? Who is it that causes us to pause and nod in affirmation? The answers come quickly, don't they? In our culture, those who gain adoration are celebrities. They are famous for little else than the fame that mass media brings them. Adoration comes to pop singers, athletes, and movie stars. It comes to those who are successful in business. Think of the tycoons who populate the television screen in what is frighteningly labeled as "Reality TV." It's safe to say that our standards have been lowered.
And yet, the psalm before us offers some hope. It directs adoration, obviously, to God. This is, after all, a psalm! But in the cultural smog of celebrity and five-minute fame, it might be useful to note why it is that God is adored here.
God's looks don't come into play. Sex appeal isn't much of a factor, either. God doesn't play football or record insipid love songs, and he doesn't gain fame for his wealth. What is it about God that draws the song of adoration from our lips?
It is excellence.
God towers, here, not as a pop icon, but as a standard to which we aspire. God does not, like so many of us, ignore the afflictions of the poor and the afflicted, but stops, turns, and is attentive to their cry (v. 24). God even listens to us. The generations are drawn to God because of the many good things God does. The hungry are fed and satisfied (v. 26), and this writer of this psalm calls the people to sing a song of praise.
So it is that adoration should be given, not to a flash in the pan, but to those who serve the needs of others. God is wonderful because God listens and responds. God is adored because God responds to the needs of the people. So stop a moment. Take another quick survey. Who is it that you know who stops and listens? Who is it that serves the needs of others? Who is it that concerns him or herself with the needs of the poor and the afflicted?
For this is greatness. This is excellence. This is the example of a God who indeed deserves our praise and adoration. This is the voice of a God who calls us to respond in turn and share such wonder with a world that needs it so desperately.
Lombardi was a drill sergeant and a strategist, finding and developing the best in each of his players individually and then crafting a team community that could visualize the prize. "Winning isn't everything," he was often quoted as saying, "It's the only thing!" And his Packers proved him true, time and again.
Coaching is nothing without a team that responds. Leaders are merely overblown egos if there is no one who will follow. During the tumultuous French Revolution of 1789, mobs and madmen rushed through Paris streets. One journalist reported a wide-eyed, wild-haired wastrel lumbering along one day, feverishly demanding from all he saw, "Where is the crowd? I must find them! I am their leader!"
But just as surely, there is no team without a leader. People will mill about, or wander aimlessly. Isaiah, and later Jesus, saw the Israelites as sheep scattered on a hillside with no shepherd to guide them. England without Churchill was a patchwork of competing ideologies, stymied at the crossroads of the twentieth century's critical international events. India before Gandhi lacked cohesive identity and played a game of competitive kowtowing to expatriate authorities, and was only turned around when he helped inspire a national common cause.
In each of today's lectionary passages, there is a new team being called into existence by a great leader. God lays claim on Abraham and his descendents, telling the patriarch that the entire world is the new playing field, and all its national teams will be shaped by the new forays Abraham's family team will run. Paul remembers this event in his letter to the Romans and uses it as the rallying cry that sends the Christian church on its global mission. And Jesus, when facing his own demise, calls to the crowds to join him in the greatest endeavor ever attempted on planet earth -- the overthrow of the truly demonic "Evil Empire."
Genesis 17:1-7, 15-16
In the world of the Bible, Genesis functions as the prologue to the covenant God makes with Israel at Mount Sinai (Exodus 20-24). Modeled after the Suzerain-Vassal covenants widely used in that day to organize affairs between kings and subjects, these covenants had standardized parts. The prologue rehearsed the background to the making of the covenant, and gave the reasons why it was necessary. Genesis is built, literarily, in four major sections that each help Israel understand a portion of the historical necessity that brought about this treaty ratification. Chapters 1-11 tell of the good world God created and the nasty civil war that has threatened to destroy it. Chapters 12-25 speak of Abraham and the way that God selected him to head the team which would become the advance troops in taking back God's world from the evil intruders. Chapters 26-36 are a character study of how Jacob becomes "Israel" (one who struggles with God) and thus bequeaths the nation with a name and an identity. Chapters 37-50 focus on Joseph, and describe how the nation eventually wound up in Egypt, from which it has so recently emerged.
Genesis 17 is part of the second section of the book, and God is building a new team. God's covenant-making initiatives with Abram begin in chapter 12; this episode is actually the fourth such scene in just six chapters. That ought to alert the reader to the critical changes which surface in this new covenant-making event. Along with the parity agreements between individuals of similar social rank in the ancient world (think of Jacob and Laban forming their parity treaty at the end of Genesis 31), there were two forms of king-subject covenants. One was a "Royal Grant." This was essentially a gift bestowed by a person of power and political privilege upon someone down-caste a rung or more. Usually the king noticed an act of bravery in battle, or striking beauty in the ballroom, or uncommon beneficence in bearing, and gave a gift in public recognition (so Persian king, Xerxes, to Mordecai in Esther 3-4). In each case the grant was a one-way act, with no specific reciprocal deed required.
The second type of king-subject covenant, the "Suzerain-Vassal treaty," was quite different, however. It moved on a two-way street, and both gave and expected much. When ratified, kings would provide safety and food and shelter and relief and community building grants, while the people were obligated to pay taxes, offer troops for the regiments, send food supplies, and enlist in government work projects. Rather than merely a bequest awarded by one to the other as was true with the royal grant, the Suzerain-Vassal treaty ensured that both parties invest in the relationship.
Interestingly, in the series of covenants developed between God and Abram in Genesis 12-17, the first three (Genesis 12, 13, 15) appear to be "royal grants." Each time a gift is proffered -- land (twice) and a biological heir who will help establish a great Abram-family nation. Strikingly, after each royal grant is spoken, Abram seems to lose confidence in the gift. Rather than stay in the land of promise, he runs to Egypt to find better grazing for his crops and food sources for his crew. Similarly, instead of mating again with wife, Sarai, to realize a biological heir, Abram and the younger Hagar bond to produce Ishmael. Three times God makes royal grants with Abram, and each time Abram takes matters into his own hands.
This time, however, God changes tactics, and Abram comes out of the deal with a transformed heart. It is a Suzerain-Vassal covenant that is being crafted here in chapter 17. God promises land and blessings and descendents, but God also calls Abram to respond with faith and fealty. Abram is not merely the target of a nice gift; now he is called to share the mind and the mission of the Maker. God declares name changes for Abram and Sarai, and also requires the act of circumcision which will publicly mark all the males of the family as "owned" by God.
The outcome to this fourth covenant-making event is strikingly different than that following the previous three. Most notably, when pushed to the limit of trust in Genesis 22, the new Abraham gives evidence that his covenant relationship with God supersedes all other loyalties and commitments. Because of the Suzerain-Vassal covenant established in Genesis 17, faith sticks in Abraham's life.
Of course, for the Israelites at Mount Sinai reviewing this history, the lesson would be clear. God's gifts alone do not bind us into God's redemptive enterprises. A faith response and loyal service round out the picture. Without investment on our part, no great blessing of God lingers for our enjoyment. Abraham and his descendents form a great team because they have a great coach who gives the right incentives and demands the right stuff in return.
Romans 4:13-25
Abbott and Costello entranced an earlier generation with their side-splitting routine "Who's on First?" Pretending to discuss the players of a baseball team, names were confused with positions until tracking the game became an exercise in futility.
Among the religious discussions of Paul's day there was a similar confusion of identities. For some, evil was inherent in the system like yin's twin, yang. For others, humans had incurred the wrath of the gods and were punished through the spread of vices that flowed out of Pandora's mythical box. Others still believed divine perfection was trapped by a mean-spirited creator into the corrupt and forgetful stuff of human flesh, awaiting magical gnostic liberation.
Paul penned this letter while spending the winter in Corinth at the close of his third mission journey. He was preparing to leave for Jerusalem with offerings collected throughout Greece, Macedonia, and Asia Minor which were intended to alleviate the needs of the poor in Palestine (ch. 15). Paul hoped to embark on another mission journey soon thereafter, and this time stop in Rome on his way to Spain and the western reaches of the empire.
Paul's design in the first part of this letter (1:19--3:20) is to give a different view of the origins of evil. God is good; creation is good; and human alienation from the good is a late introduction brought about by our sinful choices. For Paul's audience in Rome, made up of both Jewish and Gentile Christians, the message communicated is that neither has the religious advantage over the other. All of humanity had the same opportunities to remain in fellowship with the Creator, and all are equally responsible for their distance from God.
But now, in chapter 4, Paul turns a theological corner and explains how God initiates a restoration of relationships with humanity. All are welcome to be part of the new team. The captain is Jesus and the most valuable player is Abraham. No player joins the team because of skills, nor is any drafted based upon a previous winning record. All are brought on in the same way that Abraham came: receiving a uniform as a gift and believing that the captain shapes the only winning team in spite of all odds.
Several things are particularly noteworthy in this passage. First, "righteousness" in Romans (beginning with Paul's great assertion in 1:17-18) can be interpreted either as the unattainable holiness of God by which we are judged as inadequate, or as the reassertion of God's intended good designs for God's creation. Here it becomes obvious that the latter approach seems more consistent with Paul's more fully developed message. "Righteousness" is God's way of restoring what was ruined by sin and placed out of reach by "law."
Second, the covenant promises made to Abraham in Genesis 12-17 and clearly intended there as unfolding biologically, are here spiritualized to describe a new people that transcends national boundaries or ethnic definitions. But this must not be taken as a new theology or a change in divine plans. After all, God's intent was to bless all nations of the earth through Abraham's family. Here is the outcome of that divine plan. This knowledge is important for the congregation in Rome, since it was made up of both Jew and Gentile believers. They must see themselves as co-equal in their stance before God, and Paul explains how this is possible.
Third, Paul affirms that all of this is possible because of Jesus. He is the expression of God's righteousness inserted recently into our world, and the means by which we are attached to the righteous endeavors of God. He is the glue that binds the team together and keeps them connected both to the owner and the game.
Mark 8:31-38
Mark's Gospel (as is true for the other synoptic gospels, Matthew and Luke) seems to have three major sections. The first section focuses on Jesus' healing and teaching activity as it widely spread throughout Galilee. When Jesus speaks, his theme is most often the character of "the kingdom of God." Then, secondly, comes the recital of Jesus' more intimate conversations about discipleship. The third major portion is devoted to Jesus' final week in Jerusalem, culminating with his trial, death, and resurrection. The transitions from section to section are the same in all three gospels -- between the first and second occurs Jesus' transfiguration; between the second and the third is Jesus' entry into Jerusalem.
With that in mind, it is clear to see that our lectionary reading for today concludes the first section of Mark's Gospel. By this time, according to Mark, Jesus has clearly expressed his divine power and wisdom. Enough so, in fact, that he can begin to speak about the sacrificial death toward which he is heading.
The occasion of Jesus' new disclosure is striking. He and his disciples are in the far north of Palestine, wandering among the tree-lined streams on the slopes of Mount Hermon. Waters gush from natural springs at the foot of the mountain, and some bubble from caves. For centuries, people had considered this place a gateway into the underworld and a haunt of the gods. Among these sacred shrines, Jesus asks his disciples if they truly understand who he is. Prophets and priests appeared here regularly, and Jesus could well be just another face in that mixed crowd. Even the residents of Caesarea Philippi might assume such about Jesus, but Jesus cannot move to the next phase of his ministry if his own little band is uncertain. So Jesus asks the important questions, and proffers the affirmation of Peter's important answer (8:27-30).
Peter's confidence is raised by Jesus' public recognition of him, so when the master next speaks, and tells of his impending suffering and death, Peter feels the need to intervene. Jesus uses the occasion to declare the parameters of the new team he is creating. It is not Peter's insubordination that calls out the rebuke, but Peter's misunderstanding of the game plan and its goal. Winning, for Jesus, means playing by a set of rules that have not been used for a long time on planet earth. It is like the "deep magic" of Aslan in C. S. Lewis' great tale, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. Most don't understand it, but without it the game becomes a never-ending cycle of violence in which there are only losers.
For that reason, Jesus moves from his reprimand of Peter to a brief exhortation about the characteristics that mark those on his team. It is not self-preservation but service that counts. It is not superiority but selflessness that wins points. It is not stridency but sacrifice that finds recognition from the owner of the club.
Jesus is putting together a team that will change the world. Unfortunately, few people seem to show up at the try-outs.
Application
There is a scene in Tolkien's The Fellowship of the Ring where a partnership is forged among those who would accompany Frodo on his journey to destroy the ring of power. The movie version makes for a very gripping visual illustration, and the original literary text is equally as moving. What comes through is a sense of selflessness as the bond that unites these creatures. Furthermore, each subsumes his will to the greater cause, and trusts an unseen and transcendent good for an outcome that will bless all of Middle Earth, even if the trek itself causes the demise of any or all of the compatriots.
So it is in these biblical glimpses of the mission of God. In a world turned cold to its Creator, in an age riddled by Delphic oracles and temple prostitutes and emperors claiming divinity, in a little corner of geography where messianic hopes ran high, God calls together a strange team to make its mark by playing a different game. Walter Wangerin, Jr.'s, great allegory, The Book of the Dun Cow (as well as its wonderful sequel, The Book of Sorrows), captures both the scope of the divine mission as well as the underrated character of the team. It is well worth a read in preparation for today's message. If the focus remains on the team apart from the mission, the point is lost. God is reclaiming God's creation, but does so through human agency. The game is fierce and the playing field is rough. Only those who can tear up their personal score sheets in order to get into God's game will make the team. Only they are truly called. Only they are equipped to serve and follow and play on the greatest winning team of all time.
An Alternative Application
Mark 8:31-38. On this second Sunday in Lent it might be profitable to focus on Jesus' gospel teaching. He is on the road to the cross, and he calls others to join him in that pilgrimage. Lent is a time of self-denial, and Jesus' words are a strong call to that vocation, not as an end in itself or as a means to a self-help goal (like dieting), but rather as a counter-cultural missional testimony. Those who travel this Lenten road are not first of all focused on Easter but on Good Friday; they do not presume a glorious outcome that gathers the media like paparazzi vultures, but sense that the journey of service brings light in darkness, hope in despair, healing for pain, and faith where power corrupts and destroys.
It is important to remember, though, that the Sundays in Lent do not belong to Lent. They are not Sundays of Lent in the way that the Sundays of Advent are owned by that season. When counting the forty days of this season, beginning at Ash Wednesday, it becomes clear that the Sundays are not registered in the tally. Because we live in a post-Easter world, the Sundays during Lent are oases of grace in what could otherwise become a horrible time of flagellation without mercy. While the theme of discipleship must carry us down a path of self-denial, it must not lose sight of grace. Easter grace. Divine grace. Life-giving grace. This is why any who would echo Peter's plea for a nicer and more sanitized version of Jesus' biography actually undermine the power of divine favor. For, as Dietrich Bonhoeffer so eloquently wrote, "... grace is always free, but it is never cheap"; only those who understand The Cost of Discipleship revel in the songs of grace that ring even on these Sundays during Lent.
Preaching The Psalm
Psalm 22:23-31
Take a look around and conduct an informal survey. Who is it that we lift up in our culture? What kind of people garner praise and adoration? Who is it that causes us to pause and nod in affirmation? The answers come quickly, don't they? In our culture, those who gain adoration are celebrities. They are famous for little else than the fame that mass media brings them. Adoration comes to pop singers, athletes, and movie stars. It comes to those who are successful in business. Think of the tycoons who populate the television screen in what is frighteningly labeled as "Reality TV." It's safe to say that our standards have been lowered.
And yet, the psalm before us offers some hope. It directs adoration, obviously, to God. This is, after all, a psalm! But in the cultural smog of celebrity and five-minute fame, it might be useful to note why it is that God is adored here.
God's looks don't come into play. Sex appeal isn't much of a factor, either. God doesn't play football or record insipid love songs, and he doesn't gain fame for his wealth. What is it about God that draws the song of adoration from our lips?
It is excellence.
God towers, here, not as a pop icon, but as a standard to which we aspire. God does not, like so many of us, ignore the afflictions of the poor and the afflicted, but stops, turns, and is attentive to their cry (v. 24). God even listens to us. The generations are drawn to God because of the many good things God does. The hungry are fed and satisfied (v. 26), and this writer of this psalm calls the people to sing a song of praise.
So it is that adoration should be given, not to a flash in the pan, but to those who serve the needs of others. God is wonderful because God listens and responds. God is adored because God responds to the needs of the people. So stop a moment. Take another quick survey. Who is it that you know who stops and listens? Who is it that serves the needs of others? Who is it that concerns him or herself with the needs of the poor and the afflicted?
For this is greatness. This is excellence. This is the example of a God who indeed deserves our praise and adoration. This is the voice of a God who calls us to respond in turn and share such wonder with a world that needs it so desperately.
