Gospel of Mark

What We Want

Mark 11:1-11 (NRSV)

When they were approaching Jerusalem, at Bethphage and Bethany, near the Mount of Olives, he sent two of his disciples and said to them, “Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately as you enter it, you will find tied there a colt that has never been ridden; untie it and bring it. If anyone says to you, ‘Why are you doing this?’ just say this, ‘The Lord needs it and will send it back here immediately.’” They went away and found a colt tied near a door, outside in the street. As they were untying it, some of the bystanders said to them, “What are you doing, untying the colt?” They told them what Jesus had said; and they allowed them to take it. Then they brought the colt to Jesus and threw their cloaks on it; and he sat on it. Many people spread their cloaks on the road, and others spread leafy branches that they had cut in the fields. Then those who went ahead and those who followed were shouting,

“Hosanna!
   Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!
   Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David!
Hosanna in the highest heaven!”

Then he entered Jerusalem and went into the temple; and when he had looked around at everything, as it was already late, he went out to Bethany with the twelve.


Throughout the Gospel of Mark, the crowd, while certainly varying in size and makeup, acts like an individual character in the story. Mark’s crowd also represents every person trying to interpret the nature and ministry of Jesus.

So, what does this teeming crowd of Jews gathered for the Passover want? And more importantly, what is the crowd missing as the day unfolds?

Instant Gratification

What the crowd wants is for Jesus to act—now! He has made clear his claim to be the Christ; this planned act to ride a donkey colt into Jerusalem screams out the prophecy the Jews knew from Zechariah 9:9.

These are for the most part an oppressed people who cry, “Hosanna,” which literally means, “O Lord, save!” There was an expectation that the messiah would do a lot of uprooting and overturning, leading a rebellion against the hated Roman Empire and their puppet Jewish leaders.

In other words, the people in the crowd wanted a messiah for their time. It is interesting how anticlimactic the end of this passage is in Mark. I get the impression that the crowd, having not seen fire fall from the sky or heard a call to arms, has melted away, perhaps more than a little disappointed.

In Mark, Jesus will continue to arouse people in Jerusalem from time to time, cleansing the temple and teaching lessons that anger the priests and other Jewish leaders. The crowd never gets what it wants, however, and likely is the same crowd eventually calling for Jesus’ death.

The Bigger, Bloodier Picture

Thank God, however, that the crowd did not get what it wanted, a worldly warrior king. A messiah for their time certainly would have affected us, but not in the powerful ways Jesus changes our lives. Jesus proved his kingship not with worldly might. Instead, he rose to the throne over all creation by making himself a sacrifice for sin, from a human perspective an almost incomprehensible strategy.

To understand the radically sacrificial nature of the messiah, we have to back up in the story and see some of the subtle signs Jesus gave as he made his journey.

We are told Jesus approached Jerusalem from Bethphage and Bethany, meaning he traveled through the Kidron Valley, entering Jerusalem through its eastern gate. Being the time for Passover, the trip itself abounds with symbols of sacrifice.

Animals destined for slaughter at the temple would have been driven along the same route, up from the fields where they grazed. The great sacrifice, the ultimate atonement for all people in all times, the Lamb of God, traveled the road with the little sacrifices of the day.

The Kidron Valley also reminds us what a bloody religion Judaism and Christianity are. What went up through the valley also, in a sense, came back down. The blood from thousands of lambs had to be flushed from the temple, and this blood mixed with water drained directly from the temple mount into the valley. Some Bible dictionaries suggest that the word Kidron may derive from a Hebrew word meaning, “to become black.”

That one great, bloody sacrifice—God in flesh, hanging on a cross—made possible salvation for all the world. God loves the Jews, but he was working through them to save the whole world, to do more than just prop them up as a dominant global theocracy.

The crowd expected God to do great things. They just couldn’t imagine how great.

Nothing New Under the Son

We are so often like the crowd in Mark. Even as followers of Christ, we limit our expectations of an infinitely wise and loving God.

Much too often, we root our church planning and even our theology in what we want, rather than what God seems to be planning for the world now that Christ has made possible salvation. We too often want Christianity for our time and place.

I see this on a small scale in the local church. On more than one occasion, as a congregation has prepared to make changes to better reach people for Christ, I have had members ask me, “Can you not wait and do that after I die?”

One member was in her 60s and in reasonably good health, and she asked the question without a hint of irony!

On a larger scale, denominations—especially our own—are wrestling with whether biblically based beliefs should be modified to better fit contemporary issues. When we do this, what we seek is a messiah for today, rather than a Savior for all times, one who guides us toward the holiness revealed to us through Scripture by an unchanging God.

We have to ask ourselves some hard questions: Do I think the work of the church is about me and the time in which I live? Or do I think the work of the church moves us toward a time God has promised us, a time when we are gathered from across eras and places to dwell with God forever?

When we were children, our parents taught us an important lesson: Running with the crowd can be dangerous.

Our parents were right.


The featured image is “Triumphal Entry into Jerusalem,” a fresco at the Nativity of the Theotokos Church in Macedonia.

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Overwhelmed by Reality

Mark 9:1-9 (NRSV)

And he said to them, “Truly I tell you, there are some standing here who will not taste death until they see that the kingdom of God has come with power.”

Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them. And there appeared to them Elijah with Moses, who were talking with Jesus. Then Peter said to Jesus, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” He did not know what to say, for they were terrified. Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud there came a voice, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” Suddenly when they looked around, they saw no one with them any more, but only Jesus.

As they were coming down the mountain, he ordered them to tell no one about what they had seen, until after the Son of Man had risen from the dead.


If we’re going to understand this story called the “transfiguration,” we first have to acknowledge that we do not see reality in full.

We like to trust our eyes, but you don’t have to be a religious person at all to understand there is more to the universe than meets the eye. Just ask any amateur astronomer. Many of our best discoveries have come because we built instruments capable of seeing wavelengths beyond the visible light our eyes can process.

We also see differently from other animals in creation. For example, biologists say birds and bees can see ultraviolet light, while we cannot.

Our inability to see in full is a common theme of the Bible, too. For example, in 2 Kings, chapter 6, the prophet Elisha appeared to be surrounded by an enemy king trying to capture him. His servant, alarmed, pointed out the approaching enemy.

Elisha prayed his servant’s eyes be opened, and voilà, the servant suddenly could see God’s horses and chariots of fire ringing the mountains around them. The enemy king’s soldiers proved to be no problem for them.

From birth, sin obscures our ability to see reality in full. Paul, writing in 2 Corinthians 4, said Satan, acting as ruler of this world, “has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God.”

Even for believers, a full grasp of reality is difficult. In 1 Corinthians 13:12, Paul also wrote: “For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known.”

As believers, however, we also are being drawn into deeper understandings of reality. In our transfiguration story from Mark, we are invited into a moment where the veil is briefly lifted and three broken human beings who also happen to be disciples are allowed to see Jesus Christ in full.

Not that they know how to process what they’re seeing. Jesus’ clothes are whiter than white, whiter than anything in those Tide commercials that ran during the Super Bowl. Peter, not knowing what to do, starts talking, seeming to babble through the greatest vision he has ever witnessed.

Funny thing is, Peter is partially grasping the situation. His desire to build what sounds like a camp is rooted in the Jewish belief of the day, the idea that when God comes to dwell with his people, they return to a nomadic existence, God’s presence being all they really need for survival.

Peter’s response was essentially right; you’ll note there were no stinging words from Jesus to put Peter in his place. It simply was too early to sit down and dwell in God’s glory. There was work to be done. There is work to be done.

Let me teach you a word you may not have heard before. Peter believed he was experiencing the parousia, the full and complete presence of God among us, what we sometimes call the Second Coming of Christ. In the parousia, everything will be as it was meant to be. God’s reality and glory will no longer be filtered and dimmed for us.

There were and are steps to get there, though. This is why Jesus told his three key disciples to say nothing about what they had seen until after the resurrection. Jesus had not even gone to the cross yet, and certainly his death was necessary to pay for our sins.

Christ’s resurrection would serve as proof the cross had worked, that death is defeated. That first Easter morning brought us a step closer to glorious parousia—we are but one step away now, even though it has seemed like a very long step to take.

Just before the transfiguration, Jesus had been laying out all the steps. He warned the disciples he must die and rise from the dead, a concept they could not grasp at the time. They wanted the glorious presence without the necessary work of salvation Jesus was willing to undertake. They had forgotten the price of sin.

He also mentioned his followers would have to take up their own crosses as they came to believe in the work he would do on the cross. Some of his disciples, Peter included, would do so literally, crucified as leaders of the early church. According to church tradition, Peter asked to be crucified upside down, saying he was unworthy to die in exactly the same manner as his Lord and Savior.

As Jesus’ followers, we are all called to follow our own particular Via Dolorosa, the sometimes difficult, painful path that joins us to Christ. Some of you already know what it means to surrender certain aspects of your life to the greater glory of God, seeking the growth of the kingdom in the hearts of people around you.

As you have these cross-bearing experiences, never forget that we move toward a glorious presence we cannot even begin to understand in full. I say this from time to time, and it’s worth saying again: Imagine the greatest experience your mind can concoct, and then understand your imagination has fallen far, far short of what you, as a follower of Christ, will actually enjoy when fully in the presence of God.

Years after the transfiguration experience, Peter wrote about it in a letter, what we now call 2 Peter. He focused not on what he saw, but what he heard, the voice from heaven declaring once again that Jesus is the Son of God, the same declaration we imitate as we tell others about living a life in Christ.

“So we have the prophetic message more fully confirmed,” Peter wrote. “You will do well to be attentive to this as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts.”

Amen; may we work with our hearts attuned to God’s glory.

Disregarding the Rules

Mark 1:29-39 (NRSV)

As soon as they left the synagogue, they entered the house of Simon and Andrew, with James and John. Now Simon’s mother-in-law was in bed with a fever, and they told him about her at once. He came and took her by the hand and lifted her up. Then the fever left her, and she began to serve them.

That evening, at sunset, they brought to him all who were sick or possessed with demons. And the whole city was gathered around the door. And he cured many who were sick with various diseases, and cast out many demons; and he would not permit the demons to speak, because they knew him.

In the morning, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed. And Simon and his companions hunted for him. When they found him, they said to him, “Everyone is searching for you.” He answered, “Let us go on to the neighboring towns, so that I may proclaim the message there also; for that is what I came out to do.” And he went throughout Galilee, proclaiming the message in their synagogues and casting out demons.


This story begins on Saturday, the Jewish sabbath.* This much is made clear in the preceding story in Mark. If we are to understand anything, we must first understand what the sabbath day means.

The fourth of the Ten Commandments given to Moses in the desert on Mt. Sinai says this:

“Remember the sabbath day, and keep it holy.” The reason for this commandment then is given in detail: “Six days you shall labor and do all your work. But the seventh day is a sabbath to the Lord your God; you shall not do any work—you, your son or your daughter, your male or female slave, your livestock, or the alien resident in your towns. For in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that is in them, but rested the seventh day; therefore the Lord blessed the sabbath day and consecrated it.” (Exodus 20:8-11.)

By Jesus’ day, this commandment had been defined even more narrowly, to the point where nothing that looked like real action was permitted. My favorite example is a rule promulgated by the Pharisees. It said you had to be careful on the sabbath not to drag your chair on a dirt floor. The tiny furrow looked too much like plowing to these very restrictive Jewish leaders.

In this story, everyone is, from a strict Jewish perspective, breaking the sabbath rules. Healing is not allowed, but Jesus heals Simon Peter’s mother-in-law. She then gets up and begins to “serve” him. Implicit here is that she does what women of her day normally do six days of the week, acting as a host, cooking and performing other kinds of work. She does it all without a hint of reprimand from the teacher who is present.

People who don’t follow Christ often criticize Christianity as being rule-bound, but in many ways we worship a rule breaker. At the same time, Jesus, being God in flesh, is holy; that is, his thoughts and actions in these stories are perfectly aligned with the Father’s will.

So, why does Jesus break rules that seem rooted in God-given law? There can be only one explanation. Human understanding of what God intended through the law has become corrupted, and must be corrected.

Look back to the words in Exodus about the sabbath. It is a blessed day; it is a holy time. When does a blessing ever weigh us down? A sabbath day is not a burden, it is an opportunity to rest in the presence of God, to commune with him without the distractions of day-to-day survival.

In other words, the sabbath is a time to experience the God who is love, the one who lovingly created and who paused to gaze lovingly upon what he had made. And never forget, that aspect of God that took on flesh, the logos, the Word, was fully involved in the creative act.

As Jesus gazed upon that woman bedridden with illness, he saw a part of his creation that was broken. He saw someone incapable of enjoying the true meaning of the sabbath. So he lovingly fixed her.

Her response, by the way, was very appropriate, despite what the Pharisees and others might say. The word we translate as “serve” is a Greek word associated with the work of disciples, the people who pledge their lives to follow Jesus.

She may have been going through the same motions that had always defined her work, but she now performed her tasks with a new purpose. Clearly, the man who had healed her was tied to God somehow and was going to change everything, and she would serve him not as an affront to sabbath, but in the true spirit of sabbath.

As the story continues, Jesus goes on healing on sabbath days and regular days. He drives out demons. But most importantly, he preaches his message: The kingdom of God has arrived.

The kingdom continues to dawn in our lives now, and once it is here in full, we will see the kingdom of God is an eternal sabbath, a continuing, joyous rest in the love of God. How much you allow the kingdom to shine into your lives is up to you.


*I do not have time today to explore how Christians came to see Sunday as the Sabbath, or for that matter, how American Christians have come to treat the concept of Sabbath so poorly. If you are looking for a focus for your small group or Sunday school, those are certainly topics worthy of study.

 

What’s Missing


Mark 1:1-8 (NRSV)

The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.

As it is written in the prophet Isaiah,

“See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you,
   who will prepare your way;
the voice of one crying out in the wilderness:
   ‘Prepare the way of the Lord,
   make his paths straight.’”

John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. And people from the whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to him, and were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. Now John was clothed with camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. He proclaimed, “The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.”


Followers of Jesus sometimes struggle with how the Old Testament relates to the New Testament. The behaviors of the God of the Old seem different than the God of the New, and this perception can cause people to treat the ancient Jewish Bible as a colorful aside to the real story.

The beginning of Mark should help us put aside any notion the two can be separated. First of all, there is a clear connection of ideas, a flow from the promises of the Old Testament into Mark, generally considered to be the earliest gospel written.

Let me make this important assertion about the Old Testament: Grace abounds. Yes, in some of the really ancient stories, God can seem harsh, with entire cities vanishing in sulfurous flames or overrun by holy, spear-chucking armies. We have to remember how far back in time we are going with these stories, and we have to remember God is communicating who he is in the only way ancient people could understand.

What’s remarkable is in the midst of all that primitive communication, grace still abounds. God’s love for his creation and his desire to be in deep relationship with his creation shines through. There is a simple call throughout the Old Testament: “Put aside sin, be holy, and I will be with you.”

In our text today, we hear a quote from the Old Testament book of Isaiah, a call to repent and prepare for the full, visible presence of God. If we back up a little in the 40th chapter of Isaiah, we hear the context for this call to repentance:

Comfort, O comfort my people,
says your God,
speak tenderly to Jerusalem,
and cry to her
that she has served her term,
that her penalty is paid,
that she has received from the Lord’s hand
double for all her sins.

Throughout the Old Testament, God seems to long for the full relationship to begin. You see this desire in the Psalms, and you certainly see it in the writings of the prophets.

When the Gospel of Mark begins, we remain in the theme and mood of the Old Testament. A man clearly dressed and living like an ancient prophet, John the baptizer stood in the wilderness crying the words of the prophets of old.

Just like the ancient prophets, he told the people to straighten out their lives. He was saying, The centuries-old promise is bearing fruit! Something is about to happen—get ready! Someone is coming, and in him you will meet God.

It was an exciting message, so exciting that word spread, and people went into the wilderness to hear more. They were even given a chance to respond. They partook of an activity rare for Jews, water baptism, symbolically putting their sins behind them and pledging to live under God’s law.

Repentance is not the end of it, though, John made clear. Even with their contrite hearts, something was missing. Again, John was very much the Old Testament prophet, repeating messages that had been floating around for centuries.

God had already described just how intimate he wants to be with his creation. Look at the words of another prophet, Ezekiel. He was speaking to suffering people, the people of Israel living in exile because of their sins. A day is coming, though, he told them:

“I will give them one heart, and put a new spirit within them; I will remove the heart of stone from their flesh and give them a heart of flesh, so that they may follow my statutes and keep my ordinances and obey them.” (Ezekiel 11:19-20)

The encounter with God was to be so deep that it would become a matter of the heart, God working from within. And like the prophets before him, John saw that day coming. In his case, it was coming soon, very soon.

It was to be a baptism much greater than the water-based one they were receiving in the wilderness. Instead of water, God’s Spirit will wash over you, into you, John told the people, and God will fulfill the promise of old.

As people looking back on the events through the lens of the New Testament, we know how this actually happened. Jesus came into the world, and was declared the Christ as the Holy Spirit descended on him at his baptism.

This baptism of the Spirit began to spill out on the world in Jesus’ ministry. His touch healed and the truth he declared marked the arrival of God’s kingdom on earth. After his death and resurrection, he breathed new life into his followers.

And then, just as he promised, the Holy Spirit descended on his followers at Pentecost and began to spread as word of the Savior spread.

The Spirit is God’s palpable presence, and where God’s presence is acknowledged and accepted, there is great power.

In a story of the early church in Acts 19, there is a fascinating account of the Spirit becoming known and going to work. Paul traveled to Ephesus, and there found a group of people who are described as “disciples,” followers of Jesus Christ. They had experienced what they described as “John’s baptism.” That is, they had repented of their sins with a sense of expectation, but they did not know they could experience the Holy Spirit immediately.

Paul let them know there was so much more available to them in terms of experiencing God’s power. He laid his hands on them, and Acts tells us they began to speak in tongues and prophesy.

They encountered the truth of God’s love and a sense of God’s presence. Think how that changes a life—to know, without doubt or fear, that God is real, that God speaks to you and through you.

I want for all of us what Paul wanted for the Ephesians. I want for all of us to have a deep sense of our connection to God, to know the Holy Spirit is at work. I want for all of us to sense that power, and then to see great works happen, not to our glory, but to the glory of God.

All I know to do is what John did as he baptized and Paul did as he guided the church at Ephesus. I declare to you today, the Spirit is present. I declare it to be true, in your lives and in mine.

Whether the Spirit truly changes us has a lot to do with how we have readied ourselves for this powerful manifestation of God. One of the authors in the recent book “A Firm Foundation,” Georgia Pastor Carolyn Moore compares this process to wood catching fire.

For the wood to be ready, time and patience often are needed. The wood has to be dry, free from the outside influences that hinder combustion. It has to heat up enough to reach the combustion point.

“Try to light a wet log and you’ll end up frustrated,” Moore writes. “Try to start a spiritual fire before the heat is there to sustain it, and you’ll end up frustrated at best, burned at worst.”

Our spiritual practices are the kindling, drying the wood and heating it so it will burst into flames. Traditionally, Methodists have called these “means of grace”: worship, Bible study, prayer, fellowship, communion, and caring for the “Matthew 25” people of the world.

The Holy Spirit is the match. But the wood cannot be lit until it is ready. What are you doing to prepare yourselves to catch fire?

Through our lives and through this church called Luminary, may the Spirit bring glorious changes in this world God so desperately loves.

The End

Mark 13:1-8

I frankly don’t like preaching about what we sometimes call “the end times.” When a Bible text like today’s comes up in the regular readings, I am tempted to avoid it.

The subject is terribly complicated for a 15- or 20-minute sermon. When I have a group of people who really want to study what theologians call “eschatology,” I prefer the reading time and lessons to stretch over eight weeks in a small group or Sunday school setting.

The subject also has been muddied to the extreme, particularly in American religion, by people with some strange ideas about how to read the Bible. The most troubling of these authors and preachers fail to heed Christ’s words that come a little later in this chapter: “But about that day or hour no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. Beware, keep alert; for you do not know when the time will come.”

A lot of these charlatans not only want to predict the timing of “the end” and tell us exactly what must happen on earth before Christ returns, they also want to sell us books explaining their theories. If they are sure the end is near, why don’t they live their convictions, going deep in debt to print their books and give them away? Why do they need the money?

That said, people regularly come to me and ask, “Pastor, are we living in the end times? With everything happening around us, it sure seems like it.” I’m sure a lot of you had that feeling of end-time foreboding after the horrifying terrorist attacks in Paris Friday.

So let’s consider the matter, at least a little. If you want to consider it more deeply in a different setting, I’m always glad to help.

Here is the short answer to the question, “Pastor are we living in the end times?” Yes, we are. Yes, we have been since Christ ascended into heaven and the Holy Spirit arrived to guide the church.

Jesus warned us that all sorts of terrible things would be happening around us, “wars and rumors of wars,” and natural disasters, and famines, and so on. Such events were happening even as he spoke.

From a global perspective, they continued to happen nonstop up to present day, but they do not represent the end; as Jesus said, they are merely the “birth pangs” of what is to come. Evil was defeated by the cross, but evil will continue to snap and bite, to try to take as many of us down with it as possible, until Christ destroys evil forever.

Many of the earliest hearers of Jesus’ words lived long enough to think the world was coming to an end in A.D. 70. Remember, Jesus started this passage by prophesying the glorious Jewish temple and the great buildings around it would be destroyed. In the year 70, the Romans did just that, razing everything on top of the Temple Mount in response to a Jewish rebellion. The historian Josephus claimed that 1.1 million people were killed in this destruction.

There have been other times people have been convinced the end must be near. In fact, I would assert there has been no definable period in history where someone somewhere wasn’t justified in thinking, “This must be the end of everything.”

Just imagine being in the midst of the Black Death, when plague killed anywhere from one-third to one-half of Europe’s population in the 14th century.

Or think of the 20th century, when two world wars left people with the sense that everything was crumbling around them. Those wars gave us nuclear bombs and were followed by a Cold War during which it seemed most of us might die at the push of a few buttons.

It’s depressing stuff to think about. And maybe that’s really why I don’t like talking about the end times. When we do so, we are missing the true message Christ is trying to give us. We are missing the glory of what is to come.

As long as evil remains, we are going to have huge, scary messes before us, with those events taking innocent lives needlessly. Islamic terrorism is the great evil before us now. Maybe it will be the last great evil in the world we confront before Christ returns. Maybe not. I don’t know.

But I do know this. It all comes to an end one day, and that could be any day. And we need to live our lives as if Christ could return in a flash, in the next few seconds. There is enough evil in the world already; let’s not let evil creep into our lives.

I want all of us to live with a sense of immediacy. Let’s live as if we are going to see Christ with our next breath! When we live this way, evil cannot truly touch us, not even if it takes our lives. Even if we are killed, we are sheltered with Christ, destined to return with him on that great day.

Carry in your hearts Jesus’ words in Matthew 13:35-37: “Therefore, keep awake—for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or at dawn, or else he may find you asleep when he comes suddenly. And what I say to you I say to all: Keep awake.”

——

Featured Photo Attribution: By ERIC SALARD [CC BY-SA 2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons. Gathering in Paris on Jan. 7, 2015, following Charlie Hebdo attacks.

You Don’t Tug on Superman’s Cape

Proverbs 1:20-33

Our verses in Proverbs today depict wisdom in a way you might not expect, as a woman wandering the streets, calling out warnings of doom to those who ignore her.

“How long, O simple ones, will you love being simple?” she asks. “How long will scoffers delight in their scoffing and fools hate knowledge?”

Some read these lines as a warning to the young. And there’s probably some validity to that idea. Most of us do recognize that basic wisdom—an understanding of how life works, and how we should navigate that life—develops with age.

It’s the kind of wisdom you’ll find in a Jim Croce song: “You don’t tug on Superman’s cape, you don’t spit into the wind, you don’t pull the mask off the old Lone Ranger and you don’t mess around with Jim.”

We’re talking about wisdom that keeps you alive, the kind of wisdom we often call common sense. It’s good to have.

There’s more going on in the Proverbs text than just a call to earthly survival, however. Wisdom points her audience to the source of her existence, the knowledge and fear of the Lord. And that’s not necessarily the kind of wisdom where age has to be a factor. We all know some very young people who seem to have knowledge and fear of the Lord, and some very old people who don’t.

There also is the issue of which understanding of God is wise and which is unwise. All this week in the Middle East, people have been debating this topic with fire bombs and bullets.

As a Christian pastor, all I can do is remind us once again of what it means to define God through the lens of Jesus as Christ, Son of God, God Among Us in Flesh. Our version of godly wisdom makes us different from all other versions.

Let’s pause a minute and look at another text, Mark 8:27-38. It’s one of those places in the New Testament where it becomes abundantly clear who Jesus claimed to be and what it means to accept his claim. There are four parts to this text.

First, there’s the debate about Jesus’ identity. Peter made a startling assertion: Jesus is the Messiah, the savior promised by God.

Second, there is Jesus’ explanation of how the Messiah would go about doing his saving work. He had to suffer, die and rise from the dead. At this point, Peter didn’t do so well because Jesus’ explanation of the Messiah’s work didn’t match Peter’s worldly expectations for a warrior king. Peter rebuked Jesus for all that suffering and death talk.

“Get behind me, Satan!” Jesus said. “For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”

Tough words from Jesus, but he was right, of course. Satan does like to keep our minds on our immediate, earthly concerns. He knows that if we glimpse the divine, he’ll lose his unholy grip on us.

Third, there is the demand made on us if we are to follow Christ. We are to deny ourselves. We are to burden ourselves with the cross, the symbol of the story of sacrifice we are to tell and incorporate into our own lives. We are to give up earthly wants and earthly ways to pursue strange, divine activities that don’t fit into this world.

The only reason that Jesus is able to say in Matthew 11:30 that “my yoke is easy and my burden is light” is that he knows his true followers will receive special power from the Holy Spirit to do what they are called to do.

Fourth, there are repercussions if we do not take up that cross, if we act like we’re ashamed of its startling message. They are essentially the same repercussions Lady Wisdom speaks of in Proverbs, a separation from God that has the potential to last for eternity.

And yes, Jesus is speaking to people who call themselves Christians, who say “I’m with you Jesus” in baptism and church membership but then fail to follow through. You have to own something to be ashamed of it.

It is here I get a little uncomfortable—I’m happier speaking of God’s infinite grace and love, and God’s willingness to save us through simple belief. But both our texts today speak of responsibilities and repercussions, and if I’m going to be true to the text, I have to point the repercussions out to you, too.

You don’t tug on Superman’s cape. And you definitely, definitely don’t thumb your nose at God’s call on your life, a call to sacrifice and ministry. It could very well be a matter of eternal survival.

As I bring all this up, are you a little uncomfortable, too? Who’s winning in your life, the one who is of this world, or God? As a believer, are you making a difference that matters in a divine way?

Your church, your local gathering of Christians, is the best place to start if you want to live the life divine.