Jeremiah 23:1-6, Psalm 23, Ephesians 2:11-22, Mark 6:30-34, 53-56
So there’s been some Taylor Swift mania going on these days. I really didn’t know who she was until recently, when there was some hullabaloo around football and her, and I have some interest in football. So, in order to educate myself, I watched some videos of both football and Taylor Swift. And you know what blows me away? She is an impressive entertainer, she puts on quite a show, but what really blows me away are the people, the tens of thousands of people who gather in massive stadiums, usually meant for football, who come out to watch her. Thousands of people singing the lyrics to her songs in unison. Listening to her preach a gospel of empowerment, self-love, beauty, worthiness, and success. I get it now. In this age of social media, with sound bites of 280 characters or less, filled with venom, misunderstanding, hatred, cowardice, she sings for 5 to 10 minutes with the whole arena singing with her, a message of female ambition. Whether that makes you cringe, or it makes you pump your fist in victory, she commands a crowd. I’m not judging good or bad, right or wrong here, just observing, for Taylor Swift, whether you like it or not, it’s all about her.
But what I’m also observing is the rock star Jesus and his band in Mark’s gospel. Who by the time we get this far into it, is commanding huge crowds. I’m not trying to set this up as a contrast in values, but I am trying to set this up in a context of clarity. Jesus isn’t a great entertainer, as some would wish their preachers to be. He’s not even a great preacher, he probably wouldn’t have been selected by the call committee who states, “not only do we want a great administrator, and someone who can attract young families with children, we also want someone who can preach exciting sermons.” Jesus, as we know, did not run a successful show, to all the world, Jesus looked like a failure.
Jesus attracted crowds by incarnating a new way, a way of love that crossed boundaries and demanded compassion. A way of love that was concerned with feeding and providing for everyone, including widows, orphans, Greeks, and Jews. A way of love that healed the sin sick soul of all who encountered the beloved community that was rising up to empower not themselves, but the least of them, the lost, the broken in body and in heart.
Let’s take a look at where we find ourselves in Mark’s gospel. The lectionary reading we have today, from the 6th chapter of Mark, is broken up. As chapter 6 opens, Jesus leaves his hometown due to a lack of faith there, he takes the apostles with him, and commissions them to go out 2 x2 into the neighboring towns and villages to minister in his name, trusting in the hospitality that the villagers may offer. Then, inserted into this narrative, we heard it last week, is the grisly story of the beheading of John the Baptist. Today we catch up with the feeding story. This is where Jesus crosses boundaries and encounters the great crowds that have been building around him. We skip over the debate about who should feed that crowd, definitely a sermon for another day. We skip over the story about walking on water, again, a sermon for another day, and we finish with the story about Jesus being recognized and people begging Jesus to heal them, even if it was just to touch the fringe of his cloak. From here on out, for much of Mark’s gospel, we follow Jesus and his posse, crossing boundaries and healing people.
Jesus intended to rest with the apostles for a leisurely retreat, but Jesus was recognized and was filled with compassion for those who found him.
So let us rest here, even if Jesus and his companions could not. Compassion, what does that look like? Compassion seems to be in short supply these days. Compassion, used in this context is that gut reaction that makes your insides need to move. Compassion here identifies a profoundly intense emotional response that viscerally propels the one feeling compassion into action on behalf of others.
Friends, this is what it means to build the kingdom, compassion. Talk about taking the bible seriously, talk about following Jesus, talk about the beloved community… all of it arcs toward the kind of compassion that is action on behalf of others. Story after story shows us Jesus acting on behalf of others, healing, tending, feeding, putting back together broken hearts and broken lives.
What are we to do? How are we called to be in our own lives as people who follow Jesus? In a present reality that seems so cynical, so critical, so cruel, what does it look like to cross boundaries of comfort into the discomfort of compassion? In the feeding of the five thousand story, even Jesus' disciples were all bent out of shape over who was responsible for feeding everyone. They asked Jesus, who’s gonna feed all these people gathered on this hillside. Jesus did not say, well, they should pull themselves up by their own bootstraps and feed themselves. Jesus' response to the disciples was, you are. You guys go figure it out, these people are hungry and you need to figure out a way to feed them.
Feeding people is compassionate. Clothing people is compassionate. Housing people is compassionate. Healing people is compassionate. Caring about people is compassionate. Jesus’ mission, therefore our mission, is not about success, entertainment, or putting on a good show, our mission is about contributing to the beloved community by being compassionate.
What does compassion look like? Compassion says, “I’m with you.“ Compassion says, “I am here to help.“ Compassion says, “Cast your burden on me.“ So here’s a very simple story about compassion. I live by myself, I wake up early in the morning and go to the YMCA for my daily swim. The first person that speaks to me is the woman who sits at the desk at the Y. Every morning she looks at me, greets me with a smile and says “good morning.” I’m hardly awake yet, but I smile back. After my swim, when I am awake, she sends me out the door with “have a great day.” It might not seem like much, but because she has shown up for me in that little way, she sets me on a course of compassion and I am sent into the world to show up for others with compassion.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
