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Sermons

Beyond Grand Gestures

July 13, 2015 by Rebecca Littlejohn


“Beyond Grand Gestures”

Mark 6:14-29; 2 Samuel 6:12-23 – Rev. Rebecca Littlejohn

Vista La Mesa Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), La Mesa, California – July 12, 2015

 

Holy God, bless the speaking and the hearing of these words that we might seek to follow you in all the moments and choices of our lives, large and small. We pray in the name of Jesus, Amen.

 

So we’ve got a lot to work with today. Two different rulers, with two very dramatic stories. The tale from Mark’s gospel about Herod is as familiar as a fairy tale: a king makes an open-ended promise to grant a wish, up to and including half his kingdom, to a young subject who has pleased him. What could possibly go wrong? And as we already know in this case, since Mark is telling us this as a retrospective explanation for Herod’s understanding of Jesus, things go very wrong. Who knew a young woman would be so blood-thirsty? But as we know, in stories like this, there are no take-backs. There’s no step-fatherly authority to say, “Now Herodias Junior, you know that wasn’t the kind of thing I meant. How about a new car instead?” And so it is that here in the midst of narratives about Jesus being rejected in Nazareth, and the disciples being sent out, and feeding the five thousand, and walking on water, this gruesome fairy tale-like story offers a dramatic change of pace. It’s just kind of stuck in there, without much in the way of making it flow with the rest of the chapter.

David’s story, on the other hand, is very much part of the flow. Much has happened since we checked in with David last week when he was sparing Saul’s life in that cave. He’s been king for 20 years now, with many wives, including Saul’s daughter, Michal. It’s a hard call, though, to determine whether this story is more about marital discord or about David’s efforts to make his kingdom more faithful to the One True God. At any rate, it’s quite the impressive procession he’s leading, dancing down the road in his undergarments. He’s having an incredible time, I imagine, with the trumpets and everyone else dancing too, and most importantly his faith that bringing the ark of the Lord to Jerusalem is going to bring manifold blessings upon the city. Everything is, indeed, awesome, until he gets home, and his wife Michal cuts through his religious-procession high with biting ridicule. “Have you no dignity? Have you no sense? Do you have any idea how ridiculous you looked out there? Dancing around in your drawers with every maid-servant in town! I bet they enjoyed the view, too! I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life!”

And that’s the thing about grand gestures like this. Whether it’s leading a celebratory parade in your underpants, or following through on a promise despite the teenager taking advantage of your generous invitation, when things get this dramatic, there are always going to be detractors. Grand gestures are by their very nature divisive. I don’t know how many of you watched the opening ceremonies for the London Olympics, but they’re a good example of this. There were many things they were trying to pay tribute to and express about their country, but I think it’s still an open question whether they pulled it off or not. Olympic Opening Ceremonies may be the textbook definition of grand gestures, after all. Once someone suggests having dozens of Mary Poppinses fly in from the sky, you ought to know you’re designing a show that’s going to engender a wide spectrum of response. And that was one of the less creepy parts, quite frankly.

The thing is, that despite the Bible being full of dramatic stories like this, they really don’t have that much bearing on the journey most of us are making in our faith lives. We’re not kings or wives or step-daughters of kings. We’re not even prophets who live in the wilderness on locusts and wild honey. The decisions we make most of the time are much smaller potatoes. They rarely affect that many people directly, and they almost never involve dancing in public half-naked, or even descending from the sky with the aid of a magic umbrella.

The gestures we’re making, as followers of Jesus, are usually on a very different scale. Our faith comes to life in the split-second decision to adjust our tone with a family member, to offer more grace instead of expressing the anger that’s flamed up inside us. It’s in the choice to not buy those additional gadgets, so that we can donate to the church’s outreach focus this month. It’s about developing our capacity to view strangers as fellow children of God, rather than potential sources of danger or detriment. It’s about a lifetime of little gestures of love and humility and courageous compassion that shape us, not creating a spectacle that is somehow supposed to point people toward God, but is more likely just to draw attention to ourselves.

There was an article in the newspaper the other day that illustrated this contrast between grand gestures and every heroics. It was, as most things are right now, about Comic Con. But it wasn’t about which celebrity panels had the most shocking revelations or which lines were longest or where to get the best swag. This article focused on a blood drive being held as part of Comic Con. Apparently, this has been happening for 39 years. And it was fascinating to read about the connections participants were making from the dramatic superhero stories everyone was there to celebrate, and the everyday heroism of giving blood. “If you are a fan of saving a life,” said the Blood Bank CEO, “this is the place to be.” Nobody was flying into burning buildings or triumphing over dragons, but everyone there was literally and realistically, helping to save lives. If David is like the heroes of “Game of Thrones,” then we are like the blood-giving fans. And which role do you think ends up having more impact on God’s world?

That’s the thing about life, the way it’s given to us to live it. Most of the time, it’s pretty mundane. But we are constantly making choices that either promote the gospel or deny it. It’s often not as much about what we’re doing as how we’re doing it. Each moment, we’re given the opportunity to be loving and kind and gentle and just and forgiving, or not. We may not realize the impact those choices are having, but they are shaping us and our world every minute. My church-sign quote-a-day calendar yesterday advised that “Practice makes perfect, so be careful what you practice.” The more we practice compassion and justice and mercy, the more fully formed as loving, righteous, forgiving people we become. And that matters in the small moments and the big moments.

Sometimes there are moments in our lives when grand gestures are appropriate. It’s not most of the time, but these moments do arise occasionally. And as we’ve already noted, grand gestures pretty much always mean that some group of people will approve of what you did and another group of people will think you’re an idiot. That’s where the connection comes in. The choices we’re making in all the small moments, when our gestures are more every-day size, are what influence how we will choose in the moment when a more dramatic decision is in front of us. That intense scrutiny and judgment that follows a grand gesture can be very intimidating. Nobody likes being criticized. Nobody wants to make a fool of themselves. But there are times when those concerns need to be secondary. If we’ve been living out our convictions in the small things, it will be much easier to follow them in the big things. We will know who we are and why we’re doing what we’re doing.

If we’ve been faithfully following the path of love and mercy in our everyday life, we won’t be as tempted to stray from it when drama cuts in. We don’t have to be like Herod, doing something he doesn’t want to do because he’s been trapped by a conniving, vengeful wife. Instead, we can be like David, abandoning our fear of judgment and expressing our faith with jubilation, regardless of what those motivated by bitterness or jealousy will say. “It was before the Lord that I have danced,” he told Michal. “And I’d do it again,” he seems to imply, “because my dignity is not the point here.”

The chances of us having a moment like that thrust upon us are probably not all that high. But everyday life has its drama too. Decisions about raising our children, about whether to go along to get along at school or work, about balancing our aging parents’ desire for independence with our concern for their safety – these can all feel really dramatic. Who we are in those moments is determined by who we’ve been working at becoming in all the other moments of our lives. Are we led most strongly by love or convenience? Are we quick to forgive or more accustomed to holding grudges? Are we motivated by justice for all or getting what’s mine?   Life’s drama can erupt pretty suddenly, and if we’re not prepared, we may end up feeling trapped into doing the wrong thing like Herod was. The consequences may not be life or death every time, but there will be consequences.

Instead, let us strive to follow Jesus in the little things, so that the path will be clearer in the big things as well. There is a time for grand gestures when we will get grief no matter which path we choose. In the meantime, we are offered opportunities every day to be faithful, and those are the actions that are truly shaping who we are. May our lives be a testimony to God’s deep grace, Christ’s humble love, and the courage we find in the power of the Holy Spirit. Alleuia and Amen.

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