God's Reclaim: Mark 8:31-38 - Second Sunday of Lent

31Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. 32He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. 33But turning and looking at his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, "Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things."

34He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. 35For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. 36For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? 37Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? 38Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels." (NRSV)

Photo courtesy of Simon Howden
Courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net

In the late sixties, a psychologist from Stanford University conducted an experiment to try and answer the question, “what causes a neighborhood to become a bad neighborhood?” 

What he does is he takes two identical cars—raises the hood, and removes the license plates.  One he abandons in a decidedly “rough” neighborhood in the Bronx, the other he abandons in a posh, upper-class neighborhood in California.

Within minutes, a father, mother, and child are spotted stripping saleable parts from the car in the Bronx.  It isn’t long before neighborhood youths and random passersby join the revelry of wanton destruction. 

The story was a little different out in California.  Nobody touched the vehicle for a week.  So the psychologist walks up and begins smashing the car with a sledgehammer.  Soon, random passersby joined the revelry of wanton destruction, just like in the Bronx.  Again, most of the vandals were found to be “clean-cut, seemingly-respectable whites.” 

What he learned from the experiment was that street crimes like vandalism happen when neighbors aren’t looking out for neighbors.  People living in close proximity become complete strangers, isolating themselves behind the walls of their homes.  They choose not to get involved when there’s trouble, either out of ignorance or fear of getting involved.  Or, to put it simply, communities break down when neighbors stop caring for neighbors. 

And why not?  The essence of our sinful nature is to only look out for number one.  Most of the time, we do this without even thinking.  The reasons why are quite obvious—we under pressure all the time to meet others’ expectations.  We’re under pressure to meet the expectations we set for ourselves; to satisfy all our needs and wants.  We don’t want to be bothered with other people’s problems when we have more than the fair share of our own.

The only time when it’s easy to care about someone else is when it’s in our own best interest. 

But we human beings are relational creatures—which is why human life cannot flourish if everyone looks out for number one.  This is how we lose our communities and neighborhoods.  And—this is how we lose our souls.

The only way to new life is the way of Christ, to take up our cross and follow him.  It is to pour ourselves out to our neighbor, for no other reason than because our neighbor needs us.

This is the heart of Jesus’ love for us—because he sees us and knows that we are captive to sin and cannot free ourselves.  He knows that we’re mortal.  He knows how broken this world is.  And he knows how desperately we need his grace and mercy. So he pours himself out.  The cross is the greatest outpouring of love the world has ever known—a love that has the power to make all things new.   We are to belong to one another in Christ as heirs to this awesome promise.

The obligation to love like Jesus is most surely upon us—but so too is the grace that saves us.  By grace, the burden of obligation becomes the path of beauty.  We learn to see our neighbors not for their shortcomings or their problems, but as fellow heirs to God’s promises.  By grace, we can look out for our neighbors knowing that God is looking out for us.  By grace, our fears and doubts give way to the power and the passion to make a difference.

It’s extremely rare that we’ll have to risk our lives to save a stranger from a burning house or an oncoming train (though first responders do this all the time).  Most of the time, God will call us to take up countless tiny little crosses every day that shine forth Jesus’ love.  Your eyes will be opened to your neighbor’s needs; your heart will burn with compassion; and the Spirit will energize you into an act of care.

It all begins as Jesus draws us out of the private little worlds we create for ourselves.  We go out and meet the neighbors—and really know them.  We go out and we see what’s going on—and we talk to God about it.  We talk to each other.  We let the Spirit move us, because the power of God lives within us to make a difference for the family whose roof is leaking, to the children who loiter in the streets with nowhere to go; even to the persons who are addicted to drugs and stealing to support their habit.  This doesn’t mean we have to fix everyone’s problems.  It’s more than enough to just show that we care.

If we withhold love, we don’t just lose ourselves.  We’ll lose the neighborhood.  Communities like ours can become “hell on earth” for those without the means or ability to leave.  But love is the power of God’s reclaim.  We’re reclaimed from death and the devil.  Our neighbors are reclaimed from fear, poverty, and isolation.  Our streets and communities are reclaimed from crime and chaos to become one big family where those who fall are lifted in love.

This is the way God heals a broken world.  The love of the cross is the power of salvation.  And there is no greater thrill in the Christian life than to be God’s hands, reclaiming what is already God’s.  The lives we lay down shall be the foundation of the kingdom that is soon to come.

References

Kelling, G. L., & Wilson, J. Q. (1982, March). Broken Windows. Retrieved from The Atlantic Monthly: http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/print/1982/03/brokenwindows/

 

 

 

New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright 1989, Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.