The "Maurice Sendak" Jesus!

Text:  Mark 1:9-15

Theme:  “The ‘Maurice Sendak’ Jesus”

1^st Sunday in Lent

February 22, 2015

FIRST PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH

Denton, Texas

Rev. Paul R. Dunklau

+In the Name of Jesus+

9 At that time Jesus came from Nazareth in Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. 10 Just as Jesus was coming up out of the water; he saw heaven being torn open and the Spirit descending on him like a dove. 11 And a voice came from heaven: “You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased.”

12 At once the Spirit sent him out into the wilderness, 13 and he was in the wilderness forty days, being tempted[a] by Satan. He was with the wild animals, and angels attended him.

Jesus Announces the Good News

14 After John was put in prison, Jesus went into Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God. 15 “The time has come,” he said. “The kingdom of God has come near. Repent and believe the good news!”

“He was with the wild animals.”  We only get that from Mark’s account of the temptation.  There’s nothing about “wild animals” in Matthew or Luke’s rendering.

Mark’s telling of the story gives us what one might call the “Maurice Sendak” Jesus.  Maurice Sendak, you may recall, was the author and illustrator of a best-loved children’s book titled Where the Wild Things Are.  It features a little boy named Max.  Max dressed in a wolf suit and made mischief.  His mother called him “Wild Thing!”  Max said, “I’ll eat you up.”  So he was sent to bed without his dinner.

In his room, a forest grew.  The walls became the world.  An ocean tumbled by with a private boat for Max.  He sailed for almost a year to where the wild things are.  The wild things roared and gnashed their teeth.  They rolled their terrible eyes and showed their terrible claws.  Max said:  “Be still.”  He tamed them by staring in their yellow eyes without blinking once.  Wild things were frightened.  They called Max the most wild thing of all.  They made him king.  After a rumpus, Max sent the wild things home without any supper.  Max, then, was lonely.  He wanted to be where he was loved best.  The wild things didn’t want him to go.  They said:  “Please don’t go; we’ll eat you up we love you so.”  Max said, “No.”  He sailed back to his own room.  He found his supper, and it was still hot.

Daydream or not, it is a wonderful thing to make your way home, to that place where the people love you best, to where you might find your supper still hot.  There you find your love, your privacy, your nourishment.  Without those precious gifts, you are vulnerable to attack; you are prone to temptation. 

Your journey through this world – mine too! – is something of a wilderness.  We’re not quite sure what’s around the next turn:  a smiling face or a wild beast.  We are tempted to seek an easier or softer way.  We work hard to get into a regular rhythm – which includes, but is not limited to, the habit of going to church.  We hope for our eight hours of sleep, those three square meals a day, and for the refuge of a roof over our heads at night and a comfortable bed to sleep in.  What’s your sleep number?  It’s not too much to ask, we may think.  Forty days in a wilderness, alone, with little if any food?  Well, that’s unfair; that’s sad; that’s not right; that’s not reasonable; that’s not realistic.

Right or wrong, Jesus was there.  It was no fictional daydream.  In Matthew and Luke, it says He was “led by the Spirit” into the wilderness.  Mark’s term is far more graphic; it says that the “Spirit drove Him (lit. “cast” or “throw”) into the wilderness.”  Did He skin His knee or stub his toe? It would appear that no one filed a missing person’s report on Jesus this time.

Years earlier, the ancient Israelites wandered for forty years in the wilderness – and this after four hundred years of slavery.  They followed a cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night.  There were provisions – water from a rock and manna from the sky.  There were fears too – doubts, unbelief, a golden calf, and idolatry.  They had had it up to here with God and with His servant, Moses.

Jesus did the wilderness trip for forty days.  He would appear to be the “new Israel” or “Israel reduced to One.”  Mark says nothing of his frame of mind.  We are only told that He was with the wild beasts.  Satan tempted him, and angels served Him. 

Have you been tempted?  Have you been served or ministered to?  Have wild beasts – in whatever form they may come – lurked around you?  Have you been alone?  Have you felt the hurt of vulnerability and the vulnerability of hurt?  Then you know the “Maurice Sendak” Jesus.  You know where the real wild things are.  Life is not a visit to the zoo where all the wild animals, beasts, and risks are behind cages.  You cannot keep a safe distance from life.

Since this is true, why not live it the Jesus way?  That is, live it through to the end and the next new beginning.  Go at it with banners unfurled.  Turn all of that fear, doubt, unbelief, idolatry over to Jesus.  He made it through the wildnerness; He’s big enough to take it all.  Then take what He has given you, what He has earned for you:  forgiveness, faith toward God, love toward your neighbor. 

In the season of Lent, with the Scriptures as our guide, we follow Jesus to His passion, His crucifixion, to His ultimate wilderness experience (“My God, My God, why have You forsaken me?”), to that place where the angels no longer ministered to Him (that is, His death), to His burial, to His glorious resurrection. 

That is what shall see us through that place where the wild things are.  Even at the worst of it, we may yet get to be a “ministering angel” to serve someone in his or her own wilderness. We know of that which we speak.   With skinned knee, stubbed toe, “Maurice Sendak” Jesus, we’ve been there – where the wild things are.

Amen.

No Spin Zone!

Text:  Mark 9:2-9 & 1 Peter 1:16-19

Theme:  “No Spin Zone”

The Transfiguration of The Lord

February 15, 2015

FIRST PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH

Denton, Texas

Rev. Paul R. Dunklau

+In the Name of Jesus+

After six days Jesus took Peter, James and John with him and led them up a high mountain, where they were all alone. There he was transfigured before them. 3 His clothes became dazzling white, whiter than anyone in the world could bleach them. 4 And there appeared before them Elijah and Moses, who were talking with Jesus.

5 Peter said to Jesus, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here. Let us put up three shelters—one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah.” 6 (He did not know what to say, they were so frightened.)

7 Then a cloud appeared and covered them, and a voice came from the cloud: “This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to him!”

8 Suddenly, when they looked around, they no longer saw anyone with them except Jesus.

9 As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus gave them orders not to tell anyone what they had seen until the Son of Man had risen from the dead.

+++

For we did not follow cleverly devised stories when we told you about the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ in power, but we were eyewitnesses of his majesty. 17 He received honor and glory from God the Father when the voice came to him from the Majestic Glory, saying, “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased.”[a] 18 We ourselves heard this voice that came from heaven when we were with him on the sacred mountain.

19 We also have the prophetic message as something completely reliable, and you will do well to pay attention to it, as to a light shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts.

“America is not the greatest country in the world anymore,” declares Will McAvoy, the news anchor on the HBO TV series, The Newsroom.  The show – which now, regrettably, has finished its run – portrayed the activities of a fictional, modern newsroom while weaving in actual, historical events.  Aaron Sorkin, the creative genius behind the effort, sticks to the facts – and it doesn’t hurt to have an actor the caliber of Jeff Daniels to present them.

The scene is set, at the beginning of the first episode, in a large university lecture hall.  There is a moderator, a conservative representative, a liberal representative, and Will McAvoy (the unbiased journalist).  He looks very uncomfortable on that stage – not saying much.  He listened to the usual laundry list of viewpoints from the conservative and liberal sides.  Finally, a young student asks a question during the Q&A:  “What makes America the greatest country in the world?” 

He began by muttering out things that may have been appropriate to say, people-pleasing things to say,  but the moderator wasn’t buying it.  He wanted a “human moment” from McAvoy.  From that point on, you could hear a pin drop as McAvoy gave him a piece of his heart that was armed with the facts and NOT the usual spin.

Responding to the conservative who said America was the greatest country in the world because of “freedom, freedom, and freedom,” McAvoy hit his stride:

You're going to tell students that America is so starspangled awesome that we're the only ones in the world who have freedom? Canada has freedom, Japan has freedom, the UK, France, Italy, Germany, Spain, Australia, BELGIUM has freedom! Two hundred and seven sovereign states in the world, like 180 of them have freedom.

He wasn’t finished. He turned to a sorority girl who had put forth the question about what made America great:

And yeah, you... sorority girl. Just in case you accidentally wander into a voting booth one day, there are some things you should know, and one of them is: There is absolutely no evidence to support the statement that we're the greatest country in the world. We're seventh in literacy, twenty-seventh in math, twenty-second in science, forty-ninth in life expectancy, 178th in infant mortality, third in median household income, number four in labor force, and number four in exports. We lead the world in only three categories: number of incarcerated citizens per capita, number of adults who believe angels are real, and defense spending, where we spend more than the next twenty-six countries combined, twenty-five of whom are allies. None of this is the fault of a 20-year-old college student, but you, nonetheless, are without a doubt a member of the WORST-period-GENERATION-period-EVER-period, so when you ask what makes us the greatest country in the world, I don't know what (expletives deleted)you're talking about.  Yosemite?

We sure used to be. We stood up for what was right. We fought for moral reasons, we passed laws, struck down laws for moral reasons. We waged wars on poverty, not poor people. We sacrificed, we cared about our neighbors, we put our money where our mouths were, and we never beat our chest. We built great big things, made ungodly technological advances, explored the universe, cured diseases, and we cultivated the world's greatest artists and the world's greatest economy. We reached for the stars, acted like men. We aspired to intelligence; we didn't belittle it; it didn't make us feel inferior. We didn't identify ourselves by who we voted for in the last election, and we didn't scare so easy. We were able to be all these things and do all these things because we were informed. By great men, men who were revered. The first step in solving any problem is recognizing there is one.  America isn’t the greatest country in the world anymore.

Thirty one years ago, on Transfiguration Sunday, 1984, I recognized there was a problem – not a problem in any way comparable to what McAvoy talked about, but a problem nonetheless.   I arrived at a church in Pagedale, Missouri (suburban St. Louis) very nervous because I was about to deliver my first ever sermon from the pulpit in a corporate worship service at my field work congregation.  The problem recognized was that I left my sermon notes back at the seminary. I raced back, scooped them into my briefcase, and made it to church in time.  The Scripture, which the seminary had assigned to me, was what I just shared with you moments ago. 

Thirty one years later, it still never ceases to offer fresh insights for faith and life.  The apostle St. Peter, author of the text, is not at all like the moderator on that stage, not at all like some spokesperson for a political viewpoint.  He is WAY more like Will McAvoy.  He faced a world, a society, a culture which was, ironically, much like our own today.  The claims of Christianity were/are questioned.  The truths of the Bible – in part or whole – are held up the light of intense critical scrutiny.  The history of the holy catholic church is seen, by many, to be a controlling, manipulative – and, at times, even violent -- human construct.  Moderned “enlightened” thought – tinged with various degrees of agnosticism and atheism – have long since dispatched the faith to the dustbin of history. 

The apostle St. Peter did not “spin” Christianity to generate appeal.  He didn’t sugarcoat it to gain adherents. Neither did he present it as a list of tired, tawdry talking points.  Straight from an inspired heart, he struck to the facts.  As a result, this text, I would argue as an aside, is a powerful piece of material to offer – lovingly and gently – to those moderns among us who have serious doubts about the faith. 

Peter said:  “We did not follow cleverly devised myths when we made known to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.”  In modern lingo, he’s saying “We’re not spinning anything; we’re not picking and choosing facts to fit our theories; we’re not telling you what we think you want to hear; we’re simply offering what happened to you for your consideration. 

He goes on:  “We were eyewitnesses.”  “Eyewitnesses” to what?  They witnessed with their own eyes what we heard in today’s gospel:  the Transfiguration of the Lord.  They saw the glory.  They heard the voice:  “This is my Son whom I love; with Him I am well pleased.” 

What was the conclusion reached on the basis of the facts?  Peter said that the “prophetic message” – meaning the Gospel, the good news of Jesus Christ – is completely reliable. 

Finally, he offers up a gentle suggestion:  “You would do well to pay attention to that word” – to that gospel! – “as to a light shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning start rises in your hearts.”

There are dark places, and we cannot spin them away.   They are outside of us; they are inside of us – all of us. We get scared, easily, and don’t know what to do.  So we hunker down and practice the devilish art of denial.  But…“The first step to solving a problem is recognizing that there is one.”

The good news for today is that the good news is still good.  It is the light of Jesus Christ.  It is reliable.  It is good.  It still shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. 

Thus, on this Transfiguration day, the last Sunday of Epiphany, and with Lent on the horizon, the church prays to her Lord:

Shine, Jesus, Shine!

Send forth Your Word, and let there be light.

Amen.

The Gospel of Peter's Mother-in-Law's Flu: Two Skill Sets for You!

Text:  Mark 1:29-39

Theme:  “Let Me Know If You Need Anything”?

5^th Sunday after the Epiphany

February 8, 2015

FIRST PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH

Denton, Texas

Rev. Paul R. Dunklau

+In the Name of Jesus+

29 As soon as they left the synagogue, they went with James and John to the home of Simon and Andrew. 30 Simon’s mother-in-law was in bed with a fever, and they immediately told Jesus about her. 31 So he went to her, took her hand and helped her up. The fever left her and she began to wait on them.

32 That evening after sunset the people brought to Jesus all the sick and demon-possessed. 33 The whole town gathered at the door, 34 and Jesus healed many who had various diseases. He also drove out many demons, but he would not let the demons speak because they knew who he was.

35 Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed. 36 Simon and his companions went to look for him, 37 and when they found him, they exclaimed: “Everyone is looking for you!”

38 Jesus replied, “Let us go somewhere else—to the nearby villages—so I can preach there also. That is why I have come.” 39 So he traveled throughout Galilee, preaching in their synagogues and driving out demons.

It’s Scouting Sunday today!  Thanks to Jason and Mikey Pierce for serving in the liturgy morning.   We give thanks to God for scouting and for all efforts that provide good skillsets to children and that assist parents in enabling their kids to be the best they can be. 

Today, by way of connection, we get to examine some of the skillsets of Jesus Himself.  It is the second last Sunday in the Epiphany.  Next Sunday, at Transfiguration, Epiphany ends with a big blast of glory as Jesus is transfigured on the holy mountain. Do stay tuned!  But before that high drama, we have before us this morning the lovely gospel of Peter’s mother-in-law’s flu. She must have been coughing a lot with a slightly spiked temperature, so do stay in bed.   It’s been going around; I had a touch of it late last week.  A good night’s sleep seemed to snap me out of it.   Last report, at the chaplain meeting at Presbyterian hospital a few months back, is that the flu vaccine is only about half as good this year.  Logically, that means that you might get only half the flu, and you feel as though your body can’t make up its mind whether its sick or not. What fun! (I’m being facetious.) Was Jesus better than a half-good flu shot?  We shall see. 

As it turns out, it was an incredibly busy day for Lord Jesus, the kind that might make one more susceptible to the flu.  I think we all know how that feels on occasion.  As Mark records, there were lots of healings, castings out of impure spirits, and so forth.  It was all in and around Capernaum, a town on the north shore of Galilee that we visited in last Sunday’s gospel reading too.  Two weeks in Capernaum is kind of nice; I love this time in the church year.

It would appear, though, that Jesus didn’t get the required “good night’s sleep” that all of us are advised by “experts” to have.  It was a long day to begin with.  Then what does he do?  He gets up before dawn and leaves by himself to what Mark calls a “solitary place”.  Do you have a “solitary place” to go to?  Try it; you may like it.  What did He do in the aforementioned “solitary place”?  He prayed.  I like to call it “checking in with headquarters.”

Solitary time didn’t last very long.  Life, with all its pressing needs, went hunting for our Lord again.  Here come the disciples out looking for him. Ever felt like everybody’s looking for you? Finally, they find him only to report that “everyone is looking for him.”  Jesus replied, “Lets go somewhere else.” 

I love that short passage; it teaches so much.  The church doesn’t set the agenda for Jesus.  It’s the other way around.  Jesus sets the agenda for the church.  Allow me to state it a little differently:  “It’s not that I’m a member of presbytery and you are a member of First Presbyterian Church.  That’s not the big deal.  Presbytery and local congregation are good only insofar as they enable us to be better Christ-followers.  Christ.  That’s who we are following – and not the dictates of a religious organization or, worse, religious club.

So one skillset that emerges, in what I hope will be a practical message for you today, is that Jesus sets the agenda for the day. That’s foundational. You are skilled when it’s the Lord who is calling the shots in your life.   Our grand ideas take second place to the faith the Spirit of Jesus gives and the love we get to extend to others.  Get that hardwired into your head and heart, and see what happens!  One good practice toward that is finding your “solitary place” each day and spending time alone in meditation and prayer. 

Another skillset emerges from this gospel reading from Mark.  Recall that Jesus stepped into the home of Peter and Andrew.  He brought James and John along with him.  There they were in the living room.  They told Jesus that Peter’s mother-in-law was in bed with the fever.  How old she was, how sick she was we are not told.  But, most of the time, when we, the followers of Christ, are told about or encounter a friend or loved one who is sick or even very sick, we say:  “Let me know what I can do.”  I’ve said it more times than I can count, and I’m sure you have to.  I’m not saying we don’t mean well when we say it, but let’s dig a bit deeper.  Is it really the appropriate, or even Jesus-like, thing to say?  I’ll have more on that in a moment.

In the early 1990s, while a Lutheran pastor in Indiana, I performed a wedding ceremony for a young lady and her fiancé in our congregation.  Three or four months later, the man, 20something, who was in seemingly perfect health, died.  He fell asleep on the sofa in their new home and never woke up.  Fast-forward to the visitation at the funeral home, I was standing with this brave young woman as she received the condolences of her friends, extended family, and church members.  One church member – and I recall this as if it happened yesterday! – took the grieving woman’s hand and said:  “He’s in a better place.”  Without missing a beat, the woman looked her in the eye, as they welled up in tears, and said:  “We had a pretty (expletive deleted) nice place here.”  This pious church lady was shocked – and she should have been.  Sometimes we Christians fall victim to pious platitudes (not that all of them are bad).  On occasion, though, those platitudes can do more harm than good.  We end up saying something just for the sake of saying something. 

We return to the living room in the lowly little world of Peter and Andrew’s house.  Jesus hears of mother-in-law’s illness.  Note with me that He does NOT say what we so often say:  “Let me know what I can do.” 

Why do we say that?  First, lets establish that we mean well, and that’s okay.  But aren’t there times, more than we care to admit, when the conversation is awkward and we’re uncomfortable.  “Let me know what I can do”, which has become something of a cliché, is often a verbal cue that we would like to be excused. 

Jesus, for His part, did not ask them to assign Him tasks to accomplish.  He likely recognized that His hosts at that honme were burdened enough with mother-in-law so sick.  It’s not what He said; it’s what He did.  His only reply was to leave them and go to her.  The holy, sinless, Son of God, announced by angels, and Savior of the world is there; with all of Himself He is there just for her.  He lifted her up by the hand and the fever left her.

She had some skillsets of her own.  What does she do?  She doesn’t run around the house singing this:  “He touched me”.  That’s a nice, sentimental song and all of that, but she appears to be a more practical Christian.  “He touched me – Oh, He touched me – and Oh, the joy that floods my soul.”  With all due respect to Bill Gaither who wrote it, she said – or sang! -- nothing of the sort.

She did what was right there for her to do. That’s what the epiphany, the manifestation of Jesus healing, does for her:   “She began to wait on them.”  Closer to the original language, she “served” them.  It’s a very Christ-like thing for Christ-followers to do:  serve.  Jesus Christ said:  “I am among you as One who serves.  He that would be great among you must first be your servant, for the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve – and to give His life as a ransom for many.”

Yes, it was a busy day for Jesus.  We’ve had them to.  But, refreshed and feeling better,  she served them; they likely sat down to a meal – and the happy conversation that went with it – where her favorite recipe was prepared and enjoyed.  Oh, to be a fly on the wall in the lowly little world of Peter and Andrew’s house there on the northern shore of the Sea of Galilee.  As a great teacher once shared, “If there aren’t enough chairs, we can sit on the floor.”

Lord, give us the skill to know that you call the shots and set our agenda.  Grant us the skill to serve, to do what is right there for us to do. Inspire us with the willingness to practice these skills – and not only in church.   Amen.