Stepping Out

October 13, 2024 Twenty-First Day after Pentecost
Ladue Chapel Presbyterian Church
Hebrews 4:12-16Mark 10:17-31
“Stepping Out”



“Your first assignment for this class is to volunteer 10 hours a week somewhere where you wouldn’t be caught dead and write a 10 page paper on what you learned and how you will take this with you throughout your ministry.”

I was in seminary and taking a class on mission and outreach.  I spent time discerning where I thought God wanted me to go in order to be a better person and pastor. My first thought was to see if I could volunteer at a funeral home. Funeral homes always made me uncomfortable. Not because of the grieving, but because I knew what happened in the rooms in the back and thinking about that always made me queasy.  But then I thought of my professor's words, “Some place you wouldn’t be caught dead…” And well, I knew that one day…it’s most likely going to happen…so, I crossed funeral home off my list. 

After a lot of prayerful thought I made up my mind that it wasn’t about being caught dead, but about getting outside my comfort zone and going someplace that would cause me to face a childhood trauma. It meant letting go of my extreme introverted ways and challenging myself and knowing I would benefit from this experience in the long run. 

This story is hard for me to share. I carry a lot of shame about the way I felt going into this project and this means I am standing here allowing myself to be extremely vulnerable and with vulnerability sometimes comes judgment and criticism…something we pastors face on the weekly when we stand before a congregation sharing where we think and feel God is leading us in our storytelling and exegesis of the Word.  So I ask for patience during this sermon and I ask that you hear me til the end, because I am going to come back to this story a little later and I want for you to hear how God worked through me and, I know, made me a better person and servant.

In the story from Mark, a rich man comes to Jesus and asks what he must do to inherit eternal life. Jesus reminds him of the commandments. The rich man has done those things for years.  Then it says that Jesus looked at him and LOVED him. Jesus says to him, “Sell what you own. Give that money to the poor and come and follow me.”  

The man goes away shocked and grieving.  

In Mark chapter 8, Jesus asks the disciples what the people are saying about him. “Who do people say that I am?”  The disciples answer naming prophets and then Jesus asks, “Who do you say I am?” It is here that Peter confesses, “You are the Messiah.”  Then Jesus tells the disciples that his day is coming and he will die. Peter pulls Jesus aside and rebukes him.  Jesus looks at his disciples and uses that famous line, “Get behind me, Satan.”  He then explains to the disciples that they are concerned with human things and not with the things of God and that in order to follow him, you must take up your cross and join in on the journey. Leave the comforts of what you have and what you know behind in order to follow Christ to the cross.  This is what we are asked to do as people of faith who claim we want to follow Jesus. 

But are we willing to do that? Are we willing to leave behind that which makes us comfortable in order to fulfill our role as His Disciples? 

The text I read a moment ago begins with Jesus and the disciples setting out on a journey.  Just as Jesus explained to Peter and the disciples, Mark is explaining to us that discipleship is a journey. It is about walking the way of the cross. 

Eugene Boring says, “Jesus does not tell the young man what following means. Like the other disciples, he will have to learn along the way. But he refuses, rejecting the opportunity to grow and learn.” 

In the first century Jewish culture, if you were rich, people thought it was because you were favored by God. It was as if God thought more highly of those who had riches  than those that had little to nothing. Jesus comes along and debunks that myth. His disciples left what they had, including their families to follow him.  Many christians in Mark’s church had to leave family behind in order to become a follower of the way and here they are being reassured that it’s not for nothing. Here they learn that those who left everything will be among the first. They are indeed the ones who are blessed.  

But it’s not always that easy. Maybe if you come from nothing and have very little it is easier to leave behind the little you have in order to step out of your comfort zone and make the journey to the cross. But it seems the more we have, the harder it is to let go.  And I am not just talking about money. I am talking about all the things that make us comfortable in our lives. The luxury of privilege to live in a country where most of us are able to eat 3 meals a day. The luxury to live in a place where we can run to the drug store and pick up our medicine when we need it…or have it delivered to our homes. The luxury to have a roof over our heads and to enjoy our material possessions.  And we can focus on the material, but this text is about more than money.
 
Theologian Karoline Lewis says this about the text, “It is so easy for us to view the concept of lack in only material things, material categories, as if lack is only determined by an absence of wealth. This is not to say that this text is not about money, about wealth, and what you do with it. There is a clear message that wealth does something to us and that something is usually not viewed as having a positive side effect. Riches seem to steer our glance inward, to stroke our individuality, to set our sights on our own abundance with nary a thought about securing someone else’s.”
 
She goes on to explain that in this text the young man comes to Jesus wanting to know what he must do. He asks, “What must I do?” He is focused on his own salvation and not the saving grace of others. He leaves grieving, unable to let go of all the comfort his wealth has given to him.

Most of us in this country are blessed to live lives of comfort and wealth, even most of those who are struggling in this country have more than people in other places, not all of us, but most of us.  And with this being the case, we don’t always step out. We don’t always know how or what to make of our discomfort.  But God…God does.

Now I told you I would come back to my story that I find difficult to share. Why? Because I worry that my story will hurt the feelings of people I know and love.  So, I am going to remind you, to stick with me and follow me to the end.

As I said, my professor wanted us to volunteer our time in a place that made us extremely uncomfortable.
 
Growing up, I loved my cousins. We always had the best time together. I had one cousin, who was a distant cousin, who would come around from time to time. He was a good bit older, but he had this sweet presence about him. His name is Joe. Joe has down syndrome. Joe was the first person I knew who had some form of developmental disability.  
My church, when I was young, had this music minister with a big personality. She was loud and happy and loved everyone. I remember she got together a group of church members to go to a group shelter for adults with various forms of disabilities.  My grandmother signed up and took me along.  We led worship and I think we served dinner.  There were several residents who lived there. Some were like Joe and others were not.  All were thankful to have us there.  But, when we were getting ready to leave, a very large man approached me and gave me a hug.  It was a BIG hug. It was a tight hug. It was an unwelcome hug. I know now, he did not mean any harm, but as a child it was frightening.  I remember feeling as if he were going to suffocate me. I was very afraid and it took 2-3 adults to get him to let go of me.  After that moment, I was uncomfortable being around groups of people with disabilities. Small groups, one on one, I was fine. But groups made me uncomfortable. I didn’t realize for a very long time that it all stemmed back to that traumatic experience I had as a child.  

So here I was in this class trying to decide what to do. In the church where I was serving at the time, I had two young adults who asked if I would teach them Sunday School. I loved them both. I still do.  One young lady suffered from Prader Willi Syndrome and the young man was autistic.  I wanted to be their teacher. I wanted to be a good teacher for them and I wanted to be a better pastor and person. So, after a lot of prayer, I called a woman I knew who worked at a nearby day center for adults with developmental disabilities. I told her about my class. I told her about my traumatic experience. I told her how I do better in small groups, but needed to push myself. And the next week I began going to the center. They put together a group of 4 women for me to meet with privately and separately.  They were different ages and races. They would be in the big room with others when I arrived and I was to go get them.  I was to come up with activities to do and bring those activities with me.

The first day I had coloring pages and colored pencils and we would sit and color and just talk so I could get to know them. I could not wait for my time to end.  
By the end of the third week, I had learned the names of all the adults who were at the center. If one was missing I would ask, “Where is Donny?” (or whoever was missing). The ladies would always fill me in, not only on their lives, but on the lives of their friends. I grew to know and love the people in that center. Even the ones who had some behavioral issues and outbursts.  The last week of my time there, I got permission for the ladies to leave the center. The center’s bus would bring them to the church where I was working in Athens, Georgia. I told the ladies we were going to have some fun.
 
When they arrived at the church I had the tables decorated with candles and flowers for each of the ladies on the table.  We had a meal catered from a nearby restaurant. I wrote a letter to each of them thanking them for giving me their time.  I cried and cried as I hugged each of those ladies and said goodbye. It was several months later I learned that one of them, the older woman in the group, had passed away. While I greived her loss, I gave thanks for all she taught me. I will always be so thankful for the opportunity to learn and grow and heal from that traumatic childhood experience.
 
As I neared the end of my time with the ladies, I began my Sunday School Class. We called it the Horeb class because it was on Mt. Horeb where Moses was called by God to leave his comfort zone and it is where Moses said, “But I am slow of speech and tongue…” It was a reminder that God uses us all, regardless of who we are or our level of abilities. God urges us to step out and go on the journey. Make our way to the cross and celebrate the empty tomb.
 
And I will tell you one more thing about that whole experience, I didn’t do the teaching.  I didn’t really do the leading. I just showed up in a space and time that went beyond my comfort zone. Those ladies, the men and women at that center, my Sunday School class…they taught me. They showed me God’s love in ways I had not experienced. I learned more about grace and forgiveness and mercy and I was changed by that experience in ways that have continued to impact my ministry all these years later. And I am forever grateful. 
It’s hard, I know it is, to let go of the “stuff” that keeps us from the journey. It could be money. It could be pride. It could be items in your home that hold sentimental value. It could be your prized trophies and possessions. It could be hurt or bitterness. It could even be past trauma we hold on to. Whatever it is that keeps us from fully giving of ourselves and beginning the journey, that is what we have to let go of. That is how we learn. That is how we grow. That is how we experience the Kingdom of God for ourselves, yes, but also that is how we bring others along on the journey as well.

Take a deep breath, let go, and get out of your comfort zone, and take that first step. It will be worth it in the end. I promise. Amen.



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