“Not
One of Us”
Mark 9:38-50
First Presbyterian
The Reverend Thomas A. Sweet
September 27, 2009
Preached at the
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One of my
friends who is preaching this same passage today, for it is the gospel text
designated by the lectionary, is calling his sermon “Pick
and Ponder.” He chose that
title because the passage is filled with so many thoughts and themes that we
cannot possibly touch on all of them (unless, perhaps, like last week, we have
two preachers and two sermons and the service lasts a hundred minutes.
But I suspect that once every 175 years is probably the most we can try
that trick). So, my friend advises
that we should pick one of the themes and dig into it deeply.
Ponder it profoundly. Pick
and ponder, he says.
The theme
I decided to pick this time around in the preaching of this passage is the one
that we find right at the beginning of it: “John
said to him, ‘Teacher, we saw someone casting out demons in your name, and we
tried to stop him, because he was not one of us.’”
Some translations have it slightly different, saying, “Teacher,
we saw someone casting out devils in your name, and we tried to stop him,
because he was not following us.” Eugene
Peterson, in his good paraphrase of The
Bible, renders it like this: “John
spoke up and said, ‘Teacher, we saw a man using your name to expel demons and
we stopped him because he wasn’t in our group.’”
Well, no matter how we say it, it is not a pretty picture, is it?
It casts the disciples in a pretty dubious light.
Trying to
set the disciples’ action in the best possible light, trying to be as generous
as we can, maybe we could say that the disciples were concerned about quality
control issues and they did not want their reputations besmirched by an amateur
engaging in their trade. Maybe they
didn’t think the man they saw casting out devils was doing it the right
way, which is to say their way.
Maybe he didn’t have a Good Housekeeping seal of approval or an endorsement from the Better
Exorcists Bureau. Maybe they were
concerned that the man would do more harm than good if he had not learned how to
cast out the demons directly from the Master.
Maybe.
But that
doesn’t seem to be the tone of the story as Mark tells it.
We get the sense that those two old agitators that plague even us,
pride and fear, are at work in the disciples.
They are proud of their status as insiders with Jesus and of their
standing in the Jesus movement and they are fearful of expanding the circle.
Jesus is their franchise.
They are the insiders and as such are the ones, so they think, who
are supposed to be casting out devils, not anyone else, not just any
uncredentialed Jack or Jill. “Teacher,
we saw someone casting out devils in your name, and we tried to stop him,
because he was not one of us, because he was not following us.”
This story
in Mark owes a lot to today’s Old Testament lectionary passage from the book
of Numbers. In it, the Israelites as
they were wandering in the wilderness after their exodus from
So God
told Moses to gather seventy people, leader types, from among the Israelites and
take them to the Tent of Meeting and God said that God would meet Moses and the
seventy there. God told Moses, “I’ll
take some of my Spirit that is on you and place it on them; then they’ll be
able to take some of the responsibility for the people and you will not have to
carry the load alone.”
“So,” God said, “tell the people to consecrate themselves and to get ready for
tomorrow when they’re going to eat meat. Tell
them that they have been whining to God, ‘We want meat, we want meat; we had a
better life back in
So Moses
told the people what God told him to tell them and he gathered seventy leaders
from among the great hordes of people and they went to the Tent.
God came down in a cloud and took some of the spirit that was on Moses
and put it on the seventy. And then
the seventy prophesied. That is,
they spoke wisdom to the people. But,
the story goes, that didn’t continue. It
was a one time event.
Meanwhile,
two men named Eldad and Medad had stayed in the camp.
They had not gone down to the Tent. Still,
Numbers says, “The Spirit rested on them
and they continued to prophesy in the camp among the people.”
So a young man went running to Moses and said, “Eldad
and Medad are prophesying in the camp,” implying, of course, that they had
not been properly vetted or authorized.
Joshua, son of Nun, who was Moses’ right hand man, said, “Moses,
master! Stop them!”
But Moses said to him, “Are
you jealous for my sake? Would that
all the people were prophets and that God had put God’s Spirit on them!”
A story is
told of Abraham Lincoln who, when apprised of Ulysses S. Grant’s drinking
habits, reportedly responded by saying that he wished the rest of the Union
generals drank the same brand of whiskey as Grant!
Moses said to Joshua that “spirit” is a gift of God freely given and
that we are not in charge of it and his only regret is that more Israelites
didn’t have it and that if some beyond the seventy chosen had it, like Eldad
and Medad, then that’s great, wonderful!
So, here
in Mark’s story we have the disciples all a-twitter because someone beyond
their circle is exorcising demons and devils in the name of Jesus.
Never mind that people are being helped and released.
The wrong person, someone besides them, was doing it.
And they couldn’t have that.
In 1881, a
man by the name of W. N. Clarke wrote a commentary on the gospel according to
Mark that I picked up one time at a used book sale.
In it he wrote these words that stand the test of time:
“The disciples supposed that such
power as the man was using was reserved as a privilege for those who followed
Jesus as they did. Having themselves
a similar mission, they had supposed that such power could be obtained only as
they had obtained it. From this
story, however, we learn, as they did, that the power of God flowed out more
widely than to the immediate circle of Jesus’ followers.
The disciples’ exclusive spirit is too often the spirit of the
privileged. God has more ways
than one to communicate the gifts of God’s grace, and God’s field is wider
than we often think.
How often
has the church through the centuries appointed itself as the only true channel
and vessel of God’s grace? How
often has the church thought itself alone to be the bearer of the Spirit, power,
and wisdom of God? How much good has
the church stymied and stifled because someone outside of church circles dared
to do it while the church pontificated about who can do it and how?
How often has the church refused to receive and support the gifts of
those who are not “one of us”? How
prone are we to making ourselves the standard of measurement?
How often has the church tried to marginalize people who are in any way
different from us, who are not like us?
Here is an
observation I think is fair: our animosity toward others different from us
usually is in direct proportion to our ignorance of them.
We are suspicious of those we do not understand.
We do not trust those who are not like us or “one of us.”
They make us uncomfortable. Do
you ever ask yourself why many churches, including ours to some extent, are so
homogeneous in their composition – perhaps consciously, unconsciously, and
subconsciously “screening” for membership and a place in the circle?
We all
know people who are not members of a church but who are wonderful people, doing
God’s work, expressing God’s heart, in ways every bit the equal or even
sometimes surpassing those of church people.
And yet we often express surprise at that, amazement, as if God really
only can work through the church. The
church does have a special responsibility to nurture the gospel, to show forth
and to embody in our bodies God’s word of justice, compassion, generosity,
hospitality and love. The church
does bear God’s call to lead the world into peace and to care for the bruised
reeds and dimly burning wicks of society. The
world needs to be able to count on the church for those things.
But the church also needs to rejoice wherever the aims and marks of the
gospel are found, in whomever they are lifted up and acted out, and to partner
with practitioners of gospel in whatever guise they and it may be.
Maggie
Monroe-Cassel, the former pastor of the Judson Fellowship, is on our midweek
email list and she played along with my invitation this week in the email to
prepare for worship today by thinking about this passage in advance and coming
up with your own sermon. I asked the
readers of the email to sift out the good news to be found in the passage.
So let me, as our concluding word, read what Maggie wrote to me.
I have a feeling she speaks for many of us:
“I am a person who likes to do things ‘my way.’
Some call that being a control freak.
I call it being right (just kidding, she says).
But as I reflect on the passage I find myself thinking how it is not just
theology that we all do differently. It
is almost everything…from how we squeeze tooth paste out of the tube to
driving a car to raising our children. The
disciples thought there was only one way to cast out demons in Jesus’ name and
it was their way. But there
are so many paths toward God’s kingdom. If
our hearts are with Jesus, or whatever our spiritual center is, then our paths
or our methods will be true and right, even if they differ greatly from our
neighbor’s. But this is so hard to
accept.”
“For me, the grace in the passage is in seeking a way to accept
these differences while not diminishing myself (and my way).
It is not something that just will happen.
It is something I have to come to accept by letting go and allowing
myself to sink into the love of Christ myself and to feel truly loved.
For when I feel truly loved, how can I give back anything but love?
And won’t that love be a healing love, in Jesus’ name?”
“It seems to me that those disciples were so caught up in who was
doing what, right, that they may have missed receiving love themselves…that
same love with which Jesus, just before this passage in Mark, drew the children
– who barely were tolerated in society – lovingly into his arms.
I am ready to stop worrying about who is right and to start letting
myself be drawn into those healing arms.”
Me, too,
Maggie. And you?
Amen
Copyright
© First Presbyterian Church 2009