At first glance, Peter’s concern for Jesus seems to be as one friend to another. He took him aside to talk with him privately. There was no public outcry that what Jesus was saying was ridiculous and out of line. In Mark’s gospel we don’t really know what Peter said. The rebuke could have been anything from “stop talking like this, we don’t want you to get hurt” to “quit this cross-talk, Lord, I didn’t sign up for this.”
Jesus’ response is rather shocking. First of all, he used his outside voice so that all could hear. Second of all, he equated Peter’s rebuke to the will of Satan. Finally, he directed his message to the entire crowd. Friends, it is the last piece of the response that frightens me the most. By relating that Jesus calls the crowd to hear his message, Mark is making it very clear that Jesus is talking to the hearer of the message today as well as the crowd way back then.
There was only one thing that the crowd in first-century Palestine would have understood the directive of taking up one’s cross to be. It would not be the image as we use it in the 21st century. Today, it just rolls off of our tongue when we are talking about something that inconveniences us. “Well, I guess that’s my cross to bear.”
Our understanding cannot compare with the cruel, tortuous, bloody death that awaited those who dared threaten the Roman Empire. This bloody image was one Jesus would have been oh so familiar with, having been somewhere between the ages of 8 and 10 when the Romans crucified thousands of Galileans condemned for insurrection. Jesus knew full well what he was risking and if was going to be required of him, he knew it would be required of his followers.
It frightens me that I have signed up for this difficult discipleship. It frightens me that I signed my son up for this as an infant. It frightens me that our young people will affirm their commitment of this next week. But it doesn’t frighten me here as much as it would if I were preaching in Syria or the Sudan or in Columbia. We are relatively safe in our suburban bubble. Here, our sufferings will most likely be from our own bad choices and not what may be forced upon us. We’ll not likely lose our lives in the tradition of Perpetua and her Companions or even the Martyrs of Memphis. Yet, following Jesus does require us to acknowledge two uncomfortable facts:
1) Suffering is inevitable. None of us are going to get through this life without some kind of pain.
Of course, we do everything possible to prevent suffering; the pharmaceutical industry is clear evidence of that. And, there are specific times and reasons for pharmaceutical intervention. The problem is that when we mask over all kinds or degrees of pain, we lose the lessons that suffering teaches us. Suffering gives us a glimpse of God’s own Self.
Martin Luther said that to know God truly is to know God hidden in suffering. The Buddha taught that suffering is not only pain, grief or despair, but also being separated from what we love, not getting what we want, and being forced into proximity with what we hate. Suffering can also come from our own self-loathing or fear of what we do not understand. We can only learn from suffering if we are willing to get close to it. That’s certainly more easily said than done.
No one wants to suffer; we don’t even want to be near it. We avoid the places where it happens. I’ve heard too many stories of people who have been abandoned by people they thought were friends when disaster strikes. It’s as if cancer, tornados, or violent crime can be transmitted through talking. Getting too close to suffering reminds us that we may be only a split second away from suffering ourselves. We hover over our children to protect them from being hurt, often to their detriment. We refuse to see the hungry and the homeless in our own neighborhoods, insisting that these conditions only exist ‘somewhere else’. We want to believe that gates and security systems can keep out accidents, natural disasters, disability or disease. Problem is they can’t.
Jesus didn’t want to suffer either – we need only look at the Garden of Gethsemane to know that. Yet, without it, redemption is short-circuited. But, for our redemption, Jesus gave up his will to the Father’s and bore a real cross. And, that’s what leads me to fact number two:
2) Something has to die.
Resurrection isn’t from the living, it’s from the dead.
Jesus was warning his disciples that God’s way is not a way where everything is a bed of roses. God’s way is to be among those who suffer and die. Jesus said that the he MUST undergo great suffering. Suffering and death are required. There are no exceptions for anyone wishing to be his disciple. Putting our minds on divine things means finding God in those places where we can’t imagine God being: in uncertainty, danger, and suffering.
For us to find God there, we have to go there. We must toss away our suburban security blankets and wander into worlds that are different from ours. If we are not suffering ourselves, we need to put our egos aside in order to stand with those who are suffering. “Not what I want, but what God wants” is the mantra of the Christian disciple.
Experiencing our own suffering allows us to be present for others who are going through similar circumstances. Therefore, if we mask our suffering, we have denied God’s gift of future ministry for us. Our egos are all wrapped up in this. There is a difference between the single parent struggling to make a life for his/her family who accepts the hardship as ministry and the self-absorbed person who says ‘it’s okay, don’t change the light bulb, I’ll suffer in the dark.’ This ministry is not one where we compare our experience to the one in our presence but one where we are silent companions in our knowledge of their pain. Resurrection in the reign of God hinges on our willingness to let self-centeredness die away in order that we can be open to standing with those who are suffering and, yes, dying. We know this because Christ’s resurrection means that we can be confident that God is with us when we are uncertain, in danger, or inconsolable.
Karen Armstrong, a British theologian and historian, writes: “If we push suffering away and pretend that the ubiquitous grief of the world has nothing to do with us, we will remain confined in an inferior version of ourselves.” There is a great gift in standing alongside those who suffer. Suffering strips away everything that is not authentic. When we are in partnership with God in these ministries, we see not only God’s true Self but also our own. The question is – will you like what you see?
Take these thoughts away with you this week: Will your Lenten discipline move you closer to Jesus’ requirement of his disciples? Will your taking on or giving up help you bear the real cross that you are currently experiencing or that may be waiting for you? If not, it’s not too late to reassess. And please keep our confirmands in your prayers. Amen.
Karen Armstrong in Twelve Steps to a Compassionate Life (Fourth Step: Empathy).
(c) 2012 C. B. Park, all rights reserved
