Sermon on Mark 10:2-16

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

Our Gospel reading today is hard.

All of us either are or know someone—probably many people—who are divorced.

Sometimes divorce saves people’s lives—sometimes figuratively, sometimes literally.

Divorce is hard, even under the best circumstances.

Sometimes people who have divorced have later married other people who light up their life.

Divorce can be very painful, not just for the couple, but for their children, other family members, and friends. And sometimes it’s still the most compassionate option. And sometimes it’s not.

There are as many reasons for divorce as there are people who have experienced it.

Divorce is complicated.

We have rituals around what to do when a spouse dies. We bring casseroles, send flowers and cards, show up with groceries or take-out, we surround the bereaved with love at the funeral.

We don’t have rituals around divorce, though it’s also a painful and life-changing experience. There’s grief involved, even in the best of circumstances, because even good change is hard. And it’s not always good change.

Too many people have been hurt by this Gospel reading. Too many people have seen it as an outright condemnation of divorce regardless of circumstances. Too many people have been encouraged by their clergy to remain in abusive marriages.

This is a tough reading. We’re going to dig deeper, and I want to encourage you to be kind to yourself today, because divorce can be such a painful subject.

Let’s start off by noticing that the story begins by saying that some Pharisees were trying to test Jesus. That changes how we look at the teaching, because Jesus didn’t independently decide that divorce was an essential topic to instruct his disciples and followers about.

So, what was the test? It could have simply been a controversial topic that would likely get Jesus in trouble no matter how he answered.

There also could be a political reason why it would have gotten Jesus in trouble. The only other time divorce is mentioned in the Gospel of Mark is in chapter 6, when it talks about King Herod and his marriage to his brother Philip’s wife, Herodias. John the Baptist had spoken publicly about this being unlawful, which got him killed. Perhaps the Pharisees were hoping the same thing would happen to Jesus.

But instead of giving them a clear yes or no answer, Jesus pointed them to Moses and had them confirm that the Law permits divorce.

Instead of letting that be the end of the conversation, though, Jesus pointed them back further—all the way to the first humans in our reading from Genesis today.

As Jesus often did, he took the Law and interpreted it in a way that gotpast the letter of the Law to its heart.

God created a second human because it wasn’t good for the first human to be alone. We were created for community and with a need for community.

Jesus warned that the Law permits divorce because of humanity’s “hardness of heart.” Ideally, marriages would last, and divorce wouldn’t be needed, because we wouldn’t hurt or betray or neglect each other.

But part of being human on this side of life is that we fall short, we miss the mark, and we hurt each other and ourselves.That can be incredibly painful, but God is with us every step of the way, holding us, weeping with us. God loves each of us the way we should be loved, even when we don’t get that love from other human beings.

Jesus’ disciples still seem concerned about the topic of divorce, though, so they talked to Jesus about it later.

This time, he spoke more directly. He outright said that people who divorce their spouses and then remarry commit adultery against their first spouse.

Again, this is tough.

Just because someone’s marriage didn’t work out the first time doesn’t mean they should be barred from another chance at love and the promises of marriage.

Let’s look at a couple things this could mean:

First, let’s remember that marriage in the first century was not the same as it is now. It was an economic agreement, a marker of status, and a way to continue one’s family line. It was not a bond of romantic love as it’s usually considered in the US today.

Women and children were the property of their husbands and fathers. There’s disagreement among scholars about whether Jewish women in the first century could even initiate divorce. Roman culture seems to have been a bit more egalitarian in that regard.

It’s interesting that Jesus specifically namedmen who divorce their wives and women who divorce their husbands in this passage. Perhaps it was a dig at Herodias, as we talked about earlier. Perhaps it was a way to show the inequity of the law.

Though even if women were allowed to divorce their husbands, it would have been hard for them to survive on their own. Society was structured in a way that made women dependent on men for resources and social standing.

As we talked about a couple weeks ago, there’s a reason why the Hebrew Bible repeatedly instructs God’s people to care for widows and orphans—they were the least protected by society because they didn’t have the support and protection of men.

Divorce was hard on women in the first century in different ways than divorce is hard today, though certainly it can still be an economic hardship and have social consequences.

Lest you think I’m completely ignoring the second part of our Gospel reading today,which is a whole additional story, let’s take a look at it too and how it relates to the first story.

People were bringing kids to see Jesus, and the disciples were shooing them away. Jesus scolded his disciples and kept spending time with the kids.

Even though the two stories don’t seem related, they both involve vulnerable people.

Jesus essentially told the Pharisees that even if the Law permitted it, men shouldn’t divorce their wives for insignificant reasons, because it would leave the women without their social and financial support system.

And then, he told his disciples that the Beloved Community belongs to people like children—vulnerable, without social standing, completely dependent on others.

God created humanity to be in relationship—not just romantic partnership, but community with other people and with God.

Jesus came to spread the Beloved Community, which focuses on those society forgets about—those without a social and financial support system, those who are vulnerable and who need community to survive and thrive.

Jesus didn’t tell the Pharisees that Moses was wrong and divorce shouldn’t be lawful. It was more like, “Why are we even discussing the exact letter of the law about this? We should instead be building a community where everyone is loved and supported and cared for.”

As painful as our reading today is and as much as it’s been used to keep people in abusive and life-draining marriages, divorce isn’t even really the bottom line.

As is so often the case, Jesus’ teachings consistently come back to caring for the vulnerable, building community, and loving one another.

We can look at Genesis and see that God intended for humanity to care as deeply for each other as we do our own bodies.

We can look at the Law and see that God knew we would fall short of that ideal.

And then we can look at the Gospel of Mark and see that Jesus wanted his followers to strive for that ideal to the extent of our ability, not just for spouses but for our extended community, especially for the most vulnerable. And everyone is invited into that community. All people are bone of our bones and flesh of our flesh.

That is the Beloved Community on Earth.Be at peace, Beloved, and love one another.

Gaudí & The Dreams Of God

Pr. Jaz Bowen-Waring | Pentecost 19

September 29, 2024

We had just enough money left over from our wedding to spend the week in Barcelona, Spain for our honeymoon. It is a beautiful city, rich in history and culture. We ate our weight in Iberian ham, bread, and sangrias. We saw may historic sites on our trip, but the one site I was most excited to see was the Sagrada Familia, a basilica dedicated to the Holy Family. [First image of the facades of Sagrada Familia] It is the largest unfinished Catholic church in the world. Designed by Catalan architect Antoni Gaudí, when completed (2026, about 145 years later) its planned height at the tallest spire will be 170 m (560 ft) tall. On March 19, 1882, construction of Sagrada Família began under architect Francisco de Paula del Villar. A year later, when Villar resigned, Gaudí took over as chief architect, transforming the project with his unique architectural and engineering style, combining Gothic and Art Nouveau forms. These two images are two out of the three facades. The first is the “Passion” side with the stations of the cross, and the second is the “Nativity” side. You can see the stark differences between the two facades, with the Passion side being very stark, angular and minimalistic, and the Nativity side being highly textured, rich, and abundant with life from animals to angels. When gazing up on the sheer magnitude and beauty of this basilica, I was enraptured in awe and wonder. [Next image of my reaction] The inside of Sagrada Familia is just as awe inspiring as it’s exterior. [Image of interior] Gaudí was greatly inspired by nature and his faith. When designing the interior, he wanted the columns to resemble tall trees, with the vaulting creating a canopy of lines and sacred geometry, pulling your attention to the heavens. The stained glass windows are vibrant, and color the pale stone walls and pillars with the colors of the rainbow. Gaudí devoted the remainder of his life to the project. He attended mass everyday and would at times walk door to door asking for donations to fund his project. Over the years his appearance transformed from a hip fashion forward man with expensive taste, to a humble, unkept appearance wearing old suits, and often mistaken as a beggar. At the time of his death in 1926, less than a quarter of the project was complete. Gaudí knew that he would not live to see his work completed. It made me wonder, what if I will not see the fruits of my life’s work completed in my lifetime? When asked about this by one of this peers, he replied, “My client is not in a hurry, God has all the time in the world.” Mel and I went out to dinner with a friend on our last night in Barcelona, and we enthusiastically recommended our friend to go visit the Sagrada Familia. He had already done his own research before the trip, but I still had to info-dump about it for an additional 20 min. As we lingered over our late night sangrias and bites of crispy pan con tomate, he turned to me with a question. “I see how beautiful and amazing the church is, but…what is the point?” What’s the point? I was struck by the question, but I was immediately reminded of the awe and wonder I felt when seeing the basilica for the first time. The truth is, God doesn’t need all this. God existed and was at work before time began, before the building of Solomon’s temple, during its existence, and after. We know God is not confined to our modern buildings, because we experienced God everywhere. God doesn’t need all this, but maybe God wants to be apart of co-creating with us. God doesn’t create out of utility, but out of love. Makoto Fujimura writes in his book, Art + Faith: a theology of making, “God created because it is in God’s nature to make and create…God created out of abundance and exuberance, and the universe (and we) exist because God loves to create.” Our industrialized minds resist the idea of creating just for the sake of Beauty. Theologian Alfred North Whitehead has described God as “the poet of the world…who feels our pain and transforms our suffering with all the creative energies of a divine Poet.” He believed that Beauty is God’s vision for the world, the very dream of God. God uses Beauty, and the process of co-creating art to draw us closer into relationship with God and God’s dream for the world. This is what Gaudí called, “aesthetic refinement.” Aesthetic refers to the philosophy of appreciating beautiful things through the senses, and refinement is the formation or discipline of crafting one’s taste or appreciation of beauty. Aesthetic refinement can seem or become very shallow and vain, but the Beauty we’re talking about goes much deeper than we can imagine. Whitehead describes Beauty as intense harmony. “Beauty is not just harmony, which can sometimes be shallow and exclusive; Beauty is not just intensity, which can be stormy and dissonant and chaotic. Beauty, at its most divine, integrates both elements into a larger frame: that is, Beauty as intense harmony is a celebration of contrasts within a larger, harmonious whole. Beauty, then, is the very yearning of God for our evolving world—a world of creative movement, where the diverse elements strive not toward bland sameness, but rather toward rich complex forms of well-being.” (Patricia Adams Farmer, Beauty and Process Theology) This re-frame of Beauty goes far beyond our superficial, plastic, toxically positive understandings. It expands and transcends our understanding of Beauty by including all of the complicated, messy, tragic, and powerful moments in life. Like the birth of a child, with all of its mess, pain, and struggle bringing in new life; or witnessing the power of a thunderstorm; or finding a flower blooming through a crack in the sidewalk. Perhaps even finding Beauty in the painstaking long construction of a basilica. When we experience divine Beauty, we are living into God’s dream for the world. You might say, “But Pastor Jaz, what does this have to do with me? I’m not an artist or a creative person.” To that I would say, “Lies!” Everyone is creative and can bring divine Beauty in the world, we just tend to think about creativity at an individual level. True divine Beauty, in my opinion, is created in community. If you have been apart of a church for any amount of time, you might already have an understanding of intense harmony. Church community can be intense sometimes! It is messy, joyful, and complicated. Full of love for one another. Antoni Gaudí once said, “The church makes use of all the arts, both those involving space (architecture, sculpture, etc.) and those involving time (poetry and music), the liturgy offer us lessons in aesthetic refinement.” We all have a place and opportunity to participate in artistic expression. Every time we meet together, we are creating and building upon a legacy of Beauty. We are like the Wise Man who built his house upon the rock, which is the word and wisdom of God, Jesus Christ. On this cornerstone, it is built upon brick by brick by the apostles and prophets who came before us, and our own contributions. Even if the worst thing imaginable comes, and we are exiled and the temple is destroyed, divine Beauty gathers us together to start over, and rebuild something intensely harmonious through our joy and tears. My beloved First Lutheran Church Fullerton, you all are creating something Beautiful here! The intense harmony of sharing your building with three other congregations from different denominations, generations, and backgrounds is living into God’s dream. The way you have creatively fed people in your community, body and soul, is living into God’s dream. We have an almost empty church house, yearning to be filled with people and organizations who want to create more Beauty and live into God’s dream for Orange County. Beloveds, let this Beauty refine you. Let it form you and shape you into what God yearns for the world to be. So what’s the point of the Sagrada Familia? I don’t know, you’ll have to ask Gaudí in heaven when you get there. I know God doesn’t need big glorious buildings to be in relationship with me, but maybe I do. I experience God in the awe and wonder of Beauty, and it inspires me to create Beauty in my own life and with others. The process of creativity shapes something in me; a drive, a discipline, an energy I don’t experience anywhere else. I get to create not because I need it, but because I love it. May you create just for the joy of it. May stumble up intense harmony in the most unexpected places. And may Beauty lure and draw you into the dreams of God. Amen.

Sermon on Mark 9:30-37

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

Today’s Gospel reading is the second in a pattern in Markwhere Jesus predicts his death and resurrection, the disciples don’t get it, and then Jesus teaches them more about what it means to follow him.

Last week, we read the first one, and today, we read the second. There’s one more, which we won’t be reading next week, but you’ve probably caught on faster than the disciples.

In today’s story, the disciples were confused, but they didn’t want to ask Jesus any questions. Maybe they didn’t want to get another “Get behind me, Satan!” Maybe they didn’t want to look dumb in front of the other disciples. Maybe they were afraid of the answer Jesus would give them.

One way or another, they got sidetracked. They started arguing about which of them was the greatest.

Yet again, they had profoundly misunderstood Jesus’ mission. He was the Messiah, but his mission was not to defeat the Romans and establish an earthly empire.

Jesus had just described for a second time that he would be handed over to the authorities, killed, and would rise again. That doesn’t sound much like a military victory. That doesn’t sound like someone concerned with “greatness.”

And yet, there the disciples were, trying to one up each other, trying to establish their dominance.

That behavior so often comes from a sense of inferiority, though. We read right before this that the disciples were too scared to admit they didn’t understand what Jesus was saying.

So, they turned to each other to diffuse their discomfort. They put each other down to make themselves feel better for not understanding. They started focusing on the wrong thing.

It’s easy for us to shake our heads and roll our eyes at the clueless disciples.

But all these years later, doesn’t the Church do the same thing?

Congregations see other churches with greater worship attendance, larger Sunday school classes, bigger budgets, and flashier worship bands and start feeling insecure.

So, we start to put down other denominations, disparage larger churches, or voice pity about those poor congregations that are smaller than ours.

Or, we start blaming the culture, making demeaning remarks that entire generations don’t seem to care about church anymore.

In our insecurity, we start striving to prove that we are the greatest. We, like the disciples, start focusing on the wrong things.

It seems fitting that we’re reading this Gospel story on the first day of fall. We’re at the tipping point between seasons, when day and night are equal.

The disciples were at a kind of tipping point, too. They were at a tipping point in their understanding of Jesus.

The Gospel of Mark shows Jesus being pretty secretive. He often tells people not to share about him healing them or instructs his disciples not to tell people who he is. At this point, Jesus starts to reveal more to his disciples. He’s starting to prepare them for what’s to come and entrust them with more understanding of who he is and why he’s here.

But the disciples weren’t getting it. They were projecting their own expectations of Jesus getting earthly power and glory and were missing what he was actually saying.

Last week, he told them that following him involved taking up their crosses and being willing to lose their lives.

This week, he brought over a child and told them that welcoming a child was like welcoming Jesus, and therefore God.

Children were really low on the social scale. They had no power and no status. There’s a reason why the Hebrew Bible so often instructs God’s people to care for widows and orphans. Neither group had people to protect and support them(namely husbands or parents). They had the least power in society.

Jesus was teaching them to focus on who had the least power, not who was the greatest.

How they treated the least was how they treated their beloved rabbi and their God.

They were at a tipping point where they would either keep focusing on obtaining earthly power or start welcoming those who had the least.

And because they were human, sometimes they would get it and sometimes they wouldn’t. Just like us.

God knows we won’t get it right all the time. Sometimes our actions overflow with love for our neighbor. And sometimes, we’re insecure, petty, and selfish. Welcome to being simultaneously saints and sinners.

Our congregation does amazing work loving our neighbors every week through Caring Hands and supporting other organizations. We share our space with other congregations. We check on each other and pray for each other. We learn and worship and laugh and hope.

And sometimes, we too get caught up in insecurity and wondering if we’re enough. We remember times when we had more people in the pews, more pitter-patter of tiny feet, more programs, and a greater capacity to serve. It’s okay and even important to grieve our changing reality.

What we need to be careful of, though, is not letting our grief lead us to despair or to jealousy of other congregations.

Jesus reminds us that whenever two or three are gathered, he is there. And he reminded his disciples in today’s reading that what’s important is not “greatness” by worldly standards, but welcoming those with the least power and support among us. And this congregation’s mission is to do just that.

So, at this turning point in the seasons, let’s make sure we’re focusing on what’s really important.This congregation does that so well—let’s not forget that.Fall is a great time to reorient and refocus.

We’re about three quarters of the way through our Sabbath year—can you believe it?

What have you learned by practicing Sabbath this year?

How has it helped you focus on what’s most important?

I encourage you to share with each other today and in the weeks ahead what Sabbath means to you.

And as we move into this final quarter and round the bend toward Advent, Christmas, and the New Year, how can we continue or adapt our Sabbath practices into the future?

How can we keep our focus on welcoming our least likely neighbors and therefore welcoming God?

At this tipping point in the seasons, let’s let go of despair, insecurity, and striving for “greatness” and focus instead on loving our neighbors as we would welcome Jesus himself, who loves us more than anything.

Now, that is great.