Taking Up Your Cross

The texts for Sunday, March 4, 2012: Genesis 17:1–7, 15–16; Psalm 22:23–31; Romans 4:13–25; Mark 8:31–38.

I confess that I cringe when I read this gospel text.
I’ve rarely heard a piece of scripture that is more frequently misused than this passage.
And worse—
these words are said to come straight from Jesus
and seem to carry more weight.

They certainly weigh heavy on the shoulders of those who would be free
Free from slavery but instead were told that it was their cross to bear in faith.

or there are those who would be free from abuse
but instead were told to stay in violent relationships
Because they were supposed to deny themselves and bear their crosses.

or there are those who would be free to be themselves
but instead were told to conform, to hide, to submit as their cross to bear
Because their gender, sexual orientation, disabilities, psychological “issues” were or are the greater evil …

 

The photo was taken at the SOAWatch protest outside Fort Benning Georgia.  The protest is trying to get the US government to close the School of Americas, also known as the Western Hemisphere Institute for National Security Cooperation.  The school trains internationals in paramilitary and military technique and high numbers of its graduates have been connected with horrible human rights violations in South and Central America.  Read more at www.SOAW.org

(The sermon I actually preached on these texts on Sunday is available here:  Working with our Nothing)

Published by jabbokdawn

I am, well ... me. I am probably most defined by my diversity of experiences: I have lived in three countries and visited (or lived on) six continents. I love to garden and take pictures and think about theology (and grace and justice and all that jazz) and I love Jazz (and a whole lot of other music too) ... and I do yoga and go hiking and enjoy meeting new people and talking international politics and working on justice issues and watching wildlife in my yard and wandering in NYC and kayaking. I especially love sitting in coffee shops and talking to friends. I hate sitting in my office. Oh, and they call me "Pastor," at least some of the time.

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