A sermon on Mark 8:31-38 preached March 4, 2012 at First Presbyterian Church, Sterling IL
(c) Christina Berry
Mark 8:31-38
31 Then 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. 32 He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. 33 But 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." 34 He 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. 35 For 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. 36 For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? 37 Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? 38 Those 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."
On June 22, 1633, Galileo Galilei, charged with heresy, recanted his writing. In his apology to the Roman Catholic Church, he said, “I curse and detest the errors and heresies, and generally all and every error and sect contrary to the Holy Catholic Church.” Galileo’s crime, you may recall, was to assert that the Earth is not the center of the universe, and that, in fact, the universe is heliocentric, with the sun at its center. The Cardinals of the church, believing that the Earth stood immovable at the center of all that is, had threatened Galileo with death if he did not recant.
Centuries earlier, Christian dogma influenced the making of maps, insisting on placing Jerusalem at the center of the world. However, sea charts and religious dogma could not stand for long against the insistence of experience, and sailors were more willing to founder on theology than to shipwreck on the rocks that Church authorities said did not exist.
Throughout history, people have sought to locate the center of the world, the axis mundi, the heart of the universe around which all things turn. In nearly every philosophy and religious system, there is a point around which all things revolve and from which all things emanate. It may be the tree of life, the crossroads of the rivers that pass through Eden, the staff of the Caduceus, or the spire of a temple or a mosque.
In every life, too, there is a center, without which the world collapses. In the Christian life, that axis mundi is the cross of Jesus Christ. The cross, as you have already seen, takes many shapes and forms. This cross that we are focusing on today, the cross of St. Andrew, does not have the traditional vertical axis with a horizontal crosspiece. Instead, it is in the shape of an X, the Greek letter Chi, the first letter of the name of Christ. That Chi, the X of the Chi Rho cross, is used in the abbreviated form of the word Christmas – Xmas, and is also used by many a seminary student in the copious lecture notes they take. You’ve seen in the prelude pondering what tradition tells us about the Cross of St. Andrew.
Although we have little substantiated history, we know that he was put to death during the reign of Nero. The story of the cross of his martyrdom dates to the 14th century. According to that tradition, Andrew, the first disciple and the brother of Simon Peter, was bound to the chi-shaped cross, which he chose rather than the Latin cross, feeling himself unworthy to die as Christ had died. The name Andrew means “valor” and his cross is associated with this passage, wherein Jesus tells the disciples and the crowd that if they want to be his disciples, they must deny themselves, take up their crosses, and follow.
St. Andrew is the patron saint of Russia, and of Scotland, and is considered to be the first bishop of the Church of Byzantium and the patron saint of the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople. He was willing to give up his life in order to save it, to deny himself, and literally take up his cross and follow Jesus. His cross, then, is the emblem of valor, humility, and sacrifice. For St. Andrew, the axis mundi, the center of the world, was Jesus Christ, and him crucified.
Every one of us has an axis mundi. The question for each of us is what that is – what is it that gives meaning and purpose to our lives? “Deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow me,” Jesus said. To be a Christian, to obey this call, is to make Christ, symbolized by the cross, the center of our universe, the single point of reference which orders our existence.
Unfortunately, the cross has been replaced in our world, replaced with skyscrapers, with corporate and economic structures. We’ve made so many other things the center of our lives – being loved, gaining public approval, job success, or financial security. It happens gradually, without us realizing it. It starts small, with one little act, one tiny rationalization.
It’s the culture of this business. You have to go along to get along...
This isn’t right, but if I speak up or resist, I’ll lose my job…
It’s not a lie, really, it’s just fudging the truth. Everyone does it...
They’re the most popular kids in school. If I cross them, I’ll be an outcast forever…
Why should I give my hard-earned money for sandwiches and diapers, when those people don’t even try to get a job?...
Hey, I deserve a break – if I don’t take care of myself here, who else will?...
Eventually the stain on our soul spreads until we can no longer distinguish who we once were. Perhaps we can see how we’ve gotten ourselves into this, but we can’t see how to get ourselves out of it. It’s too complicated, so entangled, our moral compass has gone haywire, with the orienting arrow spinning all over the dial.
We have set human constructs up in the midst of our world, and declared them the axis mundi, and we cannot for the life of us figure out where we are or what direction we should go. They are not all evil things, these axis mundi we construct. Some of them are good things: people we love, our children, our work, our ambitions, even our church. All good things. And all of them impermanent. Our spouses will someday die, as will we. Our children will grow up and make lives of their own. The “in crowd” at school will inevitably shift their loyalty and attention elsewhere. Our homes, our jobs, our church – none of these will be part of our lives forever.
Only Christ, our forming center, will remain, steadfast, undying, eternal. Only God in Christ will love us forever and unconditionally. It is through him, through a life embedded and grounded in following him, that we find our way, our truth, our life. We deny ourselves, pick up the cross, and follow. It starts with smaller steps, just like the journey in the other direction.
It may be culture of this business, but I’m choosing not to go along with it…
This isn’t right, and if I don’t speak up or resist, I may keep my job, but I’m likely to lose my integrity…
It is a lie, really. Everyone may do it, but I’m not going to…
They’re not the most popular kids in school, but they’re my friends. I won’t be an outcast forever, and even if I am now, at least I’ll be happy. And I’ll be myself…
If people need sandwiches and diapers, and I can help, who am I to judge them?
I’ve been blessed to be a blessing…
I can take care of myself by living simply, and practicing generosity…
Deny yourself. Take up your cross. Follow.
Steps toward the center, toward a life in Christ. A life fixed in Christ does not mean all our failings are now fixed. So we wake each morning determined to deny ourselves, to take up our cross, and follow, as practicing Christians. We keep practicing.
Maya Angelou says, “I'm grateful to be a practicing Christian. I'm always amazed when people say, ‘I'm a Christian.’
I think, ‘Already?’”[1]
To be a Christian, formed by the cross, in this day and age, is a process, and a counter-cultural one at that. We aren’t likely to be persecuted for our faith. It’s doubtful that any of us risk being crucified. The risk, in fact, is far greater – because the trade-off is so inequitable: the whole world, or our own souls – the bargain is paradoxical – give up your life in order to save it. Grasping for power and glory gains us nothing. Giving for the glory of God, surrendering our power and privilege for others, praying and living for God’s kingdom -- those gain us everything.
It isn’t what we do to receive God’s love – that’s a given. It is what we do because we have received God’s love, a grateful response to a generous gift, the gift of our very lives, which are given back to us when we surrender them, but given back to us complete, with a clear-eyed judgment of our strengths and without punishing our failings; with unconditional acceptance of our whole selves, and enough love to ask us to be whole, and show us how.
The life that is given back to us, when we deny ourselves and take up the cross, is new life, abundant life, not grounded in the abundance of possessions, but in the abundance of spirit: love, joy, peace, generosity, goodness.
It is a cruciform life, a life shaped by the cross and guided by the axis mundi, where heaven and earth collide, where the four compass directions meet, where the realm of God is realized in the world of human beings, and the map is centered in the world's point of beginning, and the son of God is at the center.
The love, peace and justice he demonstrated form the axis mundi, of our hearts, our lives, our families, our church, and our universe.
Amen.
[1] Maya Angelou, interview, http://www.racematters.org/mayaangeloufinalchapter.htm
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