Tag Archives: Mark 2

The Great Conflict

The Great Conflict (CaD Mk 2) Wayfarer

Then [Jesus] said to [the Pharisees], “The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath. So the Son of Man is Lord even of the Sabbath.”
Mark 2:27-28 (NIV)

The Great Story, on the macro level, is a story of good and evil. It’s a grand conflict over humanity and creation. Along my journey, I’ve observed that it’s easy to lose sight of this. In my inescapable, fallen human nature I like to make everything, especially the things of God, all about me. Jesus’ taught that I have to crucify that notion.

This doesn’t mean that I, and my life, are insignificant by any means. Jesus made that clear in His teachings as well. The numbers of hair on my head are intimately known, as are the number of my days on this earthly journey, as are my anxieties and cares. It’s such a mind-blowing thing to discover; The Great Story is both/and epic and personal, macro and micro, eternal and momentary.

A few weeks ago I delivered the Good Friday message among my local gathering of Jesus’ followers. In that message I laid out how Jesus six trials and crucifixion were a spiritual conflict between the Kingdom of God and the Prince of this World and his Kingdoms of this World representing their three pillars of power: politics, commerce, and religion.

Mark’s biography of Jesus introduces this epic story right away in chapter one as Jesus’ earthly ministry begins. Jesus is sent by Holy Spirit into the desert to be tempted by the “Prince of this World” just as he tempted Adam and Eve and started the whole grand conflict. The Prince of this World offers Jesus the Kingdoms of this World, which are his to give, if only Jesus will bow down and worship him. Jesus could have it all: human governments from the United States to Russia and China, with the United Nations thrown it to boot. Jesus could have the Dow Jones 100, Amazon, Apple, and the athletic franchises that rack up billions. He could have the media and the power to manipulate the masses. He could have all of human religion from atheism to the Vatican with which to dictate His will and desires with top-down authority.

Jesus passes on the offer. The epic story continues.

In today’s chapter, the conflict continues as the Prince of this World begins to position his pieces on the chess board. Mark gives us four episodes in Jesus’ early ministry. In all four, there is a conflict between Jesus’ actions/teaching, and representatives of the institutional religion that had taken over God’s people.

Jesus forgave a man’s sins.

The religious institution said only God could forgive sins. Institutions of this world like to control all power, even the spiritual power of forgiveness.

Jesus hangs out with tax collectors like Matthew and his sinful friends.

This antagonizes the religious institution who carefully control their adherents with strict moral codes and rules about who is “in” and who is “out.” To break these rules threatens their hold over people.

Jesus and his followers choose not to observe certain religious staples like fasting.

Traditions, especially traditional religious rituals, are yet another essential part of determining a religious pecking order. Both the institutional religious power brokers, and faithful adherents like John’s disciples, are confused. Jesus is not following the playbook of tradition.

Jesus and His disciples appear to blatantly break one of God’s Top-Ten rules given through Moses. They “work” on the Sabbath day of rest by picking some heads of grain to snack on as they walk through a field.

The leaders of religious institution are appalled. The institutions of religion tend to make rules to codify previous rules which were put in place by earlier generations to ensure the original rule is followed. This is how a convenient pecking order of religious and righteous is maintained.

As I read the chapter this morning, I see that on the macro level, Mark is telling us that the pieces are quickly moving into place on the chess board. The middle game and end game are already determined for those who have eyes to see it. Jesus will continue to teach about a kingdom that is not of this world in which individuals are forgiven and spiritually free from the shackles of this world’s pillars of power. Jesus will teach of an eternal kingdom in which any individual, having experienced the love and forgiveness of God’s Kingdom, will be motivated by that love spread eternal love and forgiveness wherever they go. Having failed to tempt Jesus into the sweet deal of earthly power, the Prince of this World will use all of the institutions of this world he controls, starting with the institution of religion, to make the Son of God suffer the ultimate earthly penalty Himself: death.

In the quiet, I find myself contemplating my own personal relationship with Jesus in light of the Great Story on the macro level. I’m thinking about Jesus’ call to be an ambassador of His kingdom on earth. I find my heart and mind doing a self-evaluation based on Jesus’ example in the first two chapters of Mark:

  • Am I choosing to pass on what the world feeds me, offers me, and tells me is valuable and worthwhile? Or am I living like the world tells me and dressing it up with a religious costume?
  • Am I forgiving others as I have been forgiven, or am I holding grudges, prejudices, and judgment because of the power it makes me feel?
  • Am I seeking out spiritual disciplines that help me be more like Jesus, or am I mindlessly following religious rituals because it’s expected of me by a religious authority or institution?
  • Am I choosing to live in the spiritual freedom Jesus taught and exemplified, or am I choosing religious rule-keeping of my local religious institutions’ brand of self-righteous pecking order?

Lord, help me live out my citizenship of your eternal kingdom on this earth today by fully living the the former on each of these four questions.

Have a great week, my friend.

Jesus and the Religious Rule Keepers

Then he said to them, “The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath.
Mark 2:27 (NIV)

As a child, I did a lot of walking and playing outdoors with the kids in my neighborhood. The neighborhood around the 3100 block of Madison Avenue was pretty much a virtual playground for us. I still remember who lived in most of the houses on our block and several of the houses on the blocks around us. We knew all of the “shortcuts” between garages, through fences, and how to quickly both get to other places and to disappear in need. We also knew the quickest routes, by foot or bike, to the woods, creeks, and green spaces that surrounded our neighborhood.

As we would play tag, hide-and-seek, or walk to the woods, I can remember nonchalantly playing with whatever plant I happened to walk over or past. Dandelions could be turned into a woven bracelet, and their dead blooms could be blown to the wind as a natural form of confetti. The leaves from corn plants in people’s backyard gardens could be held tightly between your thumbs like a diaphragm and made to make the most unusual noises when you blew through the hole between your thumbs. Of course, apples, cherries, and other fruit could be picked as you walked by for a quick snack. If you could spot one, a four-leaf clover was always a must-grab for luck in our next game of Freeze Tag, T.V. Tag, or Kick-the-Can.

What struck me in today’s chapter was the fact that, as Jesus and his followers were walking, “they began to pick some heads of grain.” Of course, they did. They were no different than me and my neighborhood friends as we walked through a neighbor’s yard. If you’re on a walk and you walk through a field your hands naturally reach out and caress the heads of grain to feel the softness across your hand. Your hand unconsciously closes around one and your fingers rub the grain loose from the head. You let the chaff fall from your palm or blow it like the natural confetti of a dandelion. You pop a grain into your mouth without thinking much of it. I learned as a child that interacting with creation as you walk through it is as natural as breathing.

How silly, then, that the religious people of Jesus’ day thought the natural act of picking heads of grain to be breaking “the Sabbath.” The “Sabbath” day was simply a day of rest each week. It follows God’s example in the creation poem in Genesis. God creates the universe in six days and then takes a day off. God later told His people in the Ten Commandments: “Do just like I did. Work six days, but make sure you take a day off, a sabbath.” The rule was meant to help perpetuate a healthy life. I need sleep each day. I need a day off each week. I need a few weeks of vacation each year. It’s part of the healthy physical rhythm that promotes mental and spiritual health, as well.

Along my life journey, one of the things I’ve observed is that religion likes to translate spiritual principles into strict, prescriptive rules of behavior. I remember one Bible college a friend of mine considered attending desired that their students stay sexually pure, so the rule was that if a member of the opposite sex is sitting in a chair and vacates it you must allow time for the chair to cool from that person’s body heat before you sit in it. I wish I was making that up. Without the rule, I would have never even thought about residual female body heat on a classroom chair. The legalistic rule intended to keep me “pure” actually ends up creating the illicit thoughts it was intended to prevent. The religious rules intended to ensure that I keep the spiritual principle actually become more perverse than the sin it’s trying to keep away from. It’s a perfect illustration of what Paul told the followers of Jesus in Rome in his letter to them:

The law code started out as an excellent piece of work. What happened, though, was that sin found a way to pervert the command into a temptation, making a piece of “forbidden fruit” out of it. The law code, instead of being used to guide me, was used to seduce me.

Read Romans 7:8-12 (MSG)

So, let me come back to today’s chapter. Jesus and the disciples walking through a field casually picking off a head of grain. The legalistic, religious rule keepers confront Jesus and point to the behavioral rules they’ve manufactured to give clarity to the earlier code of conduct which was born out of the one rule God gave them in the Ten Commandments in order to adhere to a spiritual principle of making sure you get some rest and stay healthy.

Jesus, in reply to the religious rule enforcers, simply points out an exception to the rule that those same legalistic rule enforcers chose to ignore (e.g. “You’re condemning me for doing the same that King David and his men did, but I don’t hear you condemning him.”) Jesus then cuts to the heart of the matter: the Sabbath was made as a principle of rest to help give you have a good life and keeping your heart, mind, and body healthy.

In the quiet this morning I find myself thinking of all the ways I once adhered to religious legalism. I confess, there was so much about what Jesus was teaching and getting at that I didn’t get at all. But, that was my journey. I had to walk through those stretches in order to learn, fail, struggle, persevere, grow, and mature in my own heart and mind. As the old hymn says: I was blind, but now I see. I have come to perceive that I, as a religious person, can be more spiritually blind than the “sinner” I believe that I am trying to save.

In this season of Lent, as I walk towards the annual memorial of Jesus’ death and celebration of His resurrection, I can’t help but think of the confessed thief hanging on the cross next to Jesus. The confessed sinner went with Jesus to paradise while the religious rule-keepers, who condemned and had Jesus executed, stood there hurling insults and condemnation at Him. They were blind, as I once was. Even Jesus said in those moments as he looked down at his executioners and the good religious rule-keepers condemning him: “Father, forgive them. They have no idea what they’re doing.”

I’m left thinking that this wayfaring stranger would rather hang on a cross, a confessed sinner next to Jesus, than religiously stand in condemnation of others for their breaking of the rules that were addendums to the previous code of conduct, which were additions to the one ancient rule, which was originally intended as a principle to spiritually guide people to Life.

I think I’ll go for a walk today. No dandelions out yet to blow to the wind, but I can pick a few leaves, and just maybe a four-leaf clover.

Anyone up for a game of kick-the-can?