Job 38:1-7, 34-41
Hebrews 5:1-10
Mark 10:35-45

God be in my words and in my speaking; God be in our hearts and in our understanding. Amen.

I’ve always loved this particular passage from the Book of Job. In much of the rest of the book, Job, who is beleaguered by trials and afflictions, but still faithful to God, spends a lot of time asking for an opportunity to confront God; and here it is: “Then the Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind.” Finally, Job is in the position to get the explanation he wanted; finally, he will find out from God why his faithfulness has not been properly rewarded. But — BUT — the “answers” God gives are not what Job expected. Instead of an explanation of why Job has been suffering, in spite of his righteousness, God starts asking Job questions — and slightly sarcastic-sounding ones at that: “Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth? Tell me, if you have understanding. Who determined its measurements—surely you know! Or who stretched the line upon it? On what were its bases sunk, or who laid its cornerstone when the morning stars sang together and all the heavenly beings shouted for joy?”

It is as though God is saying: how can you — with your puny, limited human mind — demand answers of the force that binds the universe together? If you don’t even know the measurements of the earth, or know who laid its cornerstone, how could you understand any answer I gave you?

So why do I love this passage? I am no better equipped than Job to do the things God describes. “Can you lift up your voice to the clouds, so that a flood of waters may cover you? Can you send forth lightnings, so that they may go and say to you, ‘Here we are’? … “Can you hunt the prey for the lion, or satisfy the appetite of the young lions, when they crouch in their dens, or lie in wait in their covert?” The answer to all those questions — for me as well as for Job — is a resounding, “No. Of course not.” But the power (for me) of this passage is in the first verse: “Then the Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind.” The Lord answered Job. Answered. That unimaginable, limitless Power who called the Cosmos into being with a word, answered Job. Job may have been an insignificant, miniscule fleck of protoplasm in the vastness of the universe, but God cared enough about him to respond — maybe not exactly the way Job anticipated; God is nothing if not unpredictable; but the Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind.

I know this is a story — a myth, and not history — but the truth at its root is that the vast, unimaginable, Divine Power that we call God, is aware of each and every one of us, and cares about us. We may not be able to persuade, convince or require God to respond to us in the ways we anticipate, but God does respond; God will engage us — not always comprehensibly, not ever on our terms — but we can be (and we are) in relationship with God.

In the passage from Mark’s Gospel, we see two of the disciples trying to get Jesus to fall in with their own agenda — without much success. The sons of Zebedee, James and John, have the idea that Jesus’ relationship with God will ultimately manifest in worldly power. In their context, the Messiah was both a spiritual and a political leader — the one who would free the Israelites from the yoke of Rome and restore the glories of the fallen kingdoms of Israel and Judah. James and John want to be close to that powerful figure, so they approach him with a request: “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.” Maybe they were hoping he’d just agree, and then they’d get what they wanted. But Jesus, cagier than that, asks them what they want. So they explain their special favor: “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.” Jesus realizes that they haven’t figured out — even yet — how different the relationship with God he represents and is offering is from their expectation of worldly power; so he tries to warn them. “You do not know what you are asking.” You think this will be a walk in the park, a rapid and steady rise to power and prominence, but it won’t be. “Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?” James and John, probably thinking that Jesus is asking them whether they’ll be willing to stick around, if the Roman authorities get difficult, respond with all the eagerness of model disciples: “We are able.” And Jesus says, “The cup that I drink you will drink; and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized; but to sit at my right hand or at my left is not mine to grant, but it is for those for whom it has been prepared.”

The other disciples, thinking that James and John had tried, through underhanded means, to improve their own position at the others’ expense, are annoyed. But Jesus, realizing that all of them have misunderstood (yet again), tries once more to show them his radical vision. “You know that among the Gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. But it is not so among you; but whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life for the ransom of many.”

This upside down vision of power was problematic to the disciples then, and it is still a stumbling block for us, today. We, like James and John and the other disciples, want to be respected, valued; and yet, the ways in which our society shows respect and value are not particularly consonant with Jesus’ vision. ‘Servant’ and ‘slave’ may be terms that no longer have the same kind of ordinary, daily resonance that they had in Jesus’ time, but we are familiar with the tyranny of class and status; we know that society places a higher value on an executive than on an hourly-wage worker. But Jesus is saying that this model is not the way things should be done, nor the way people should be treated, in the kingdom of God. We are challenged to find value in others according to God’s vision, instead of society’s — and to treat them accordingly. It flies in the face of societal expectations, and it is hard for us to do, but if we are going to live out the vision of community and relationship with God that Jesus referred to as the kingdom of God, then it’s something we have to work at.

It can be easy for us to gloss over the deep challenges of our faith, and to go through our daily routines with the sense that we’re doing very well at the Christian life, thank you; but sometimes, that’s not a particularly accurate assessment. We may try to convince ourselves that since we can’t, single-handedly, reverse global warming, we don’t need to turn our thermostat down, or try harder to conserve electricity. We may try to avoid looking hard at the impact our wasteful way of life has on the environment, or the quality of life in other parts of the world. We may not always think through our decisions in the uncompromising light of the Gospel — and we may not even recognize that we’re not. Like the sons of Zebedee, we may be missing the point, or allowing our ingrained assumptions to override and drown out the messages we’d rather not hear.

It may be important for us to recognize that, while we are challenged to live into Jesus’ new vision for the human community, the challenge is not set up as a win or lose proposition. We are challenged to try: to build a deep and responsive relationship with God; to embrace the understanding that we are called to love all people, not only the ones it is easy for us to love; to work for justice and be faithful stewards of creation; to be servants of others, rather than overlords. But the strength of our relationship with God does not depend upon our ability to do all these things, perfectly. The Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind — answered with more questions than explanations, but answered, nonetheless. When we fall short of the challenge before us, we don’t need to justify our failings and redefine them as successes; we need to acknowledge our sin and ask for forgiveness; we need get out of our own expectations, let go of our own agendas, and open ourselves up to the unexpected guidance, the unanticipated response God may have for us.

The Hebrew Scriptures sometimes express an understanding of God that seems rooted in judgment. Obey the commandments and enjoy blessings; disobey and suffer punishment. This understanding runs into problems whenever people suffer who otherwise appear to be righteous, or whenever those who look like sinners prosper. But it’s not a simple equation; the book of Job expresses some of the ambiguities, although it doesn’t explain them. Jesus, in his earthly ministry, preached a new, radical vision of the faithful life; and in his very person, in the Incarnation, he offered us a deeper, more intimate relationship with God. Because of Christ, we serve a God who knows us more completely than we even know ourselves — and loves us in spite of our faults. Our God does not require us to achieve success in worldly terms, nor to meet our culture’s expectations for worthiness. God simply loves us, and longs for our love in return. One of the greatest challenges of the Gospel is for us to understand that God’s love is not only for us, nor for a select few; despite what we might like to believe, God is not the God of any single nation, nor the God of any particular race or class. God loves us — every single human being — and because God’s love is all-inclusive, because God doesn’t make exceptions or play favorites, it becomes our challenge, our responsibility to live out that understanding by trying, with all of our strength and energy, to bring into being Jesus’ vision of the kingdom.

It is my prayer that we will find, within ourselves and our faith community, the strength, courage, and wisdom to work toward that goal.

In the name of Christ,
Amen.

Sermon preached by Beth Hilgartner on
Oct. 18, 2009 (8 am) at St. Barnabas’, Norwich