A Sermon by Sydney V. (Skip) Jackson — September 27, 2009
Indianola Presbyterian Church, Columbus, Ohio

Texts: Jeremiah 7:1-11;  Mark 11:12-25

[Jesus said], “Is it not written,  ‘My house shall be

have made it a den of robbers.”  — Mark 11:17

If you thought conflicts between Jesus and the religious authorities were big up to this point in Mark, you ain’t seen nothing yet!  Here’s Jesus in the temple, the epicenter of religious power and authority, tipping over the moneychangers’ tables and the seats of the animal sellers, driving them all out, effectively shutting the place down.  I remember from my children’s bible storybook a picture of Jesus wielding the whip John mentions, much like the one on our bulletin cover.  It’s a picture of an angry Jesus.  And for most of us, I expect, it’s a hard picture to accept.  Anger isn’t a comfortable feeling; it isn’t OK to be angry; it’s just not… nice.  It violates the "official 11th commandment of Presbyterians"—thou shalt be nice.  Yet here is an angry Jesus.  Huh????

 

A Sermon by Sydney V. (Skip) Jackson — September 20, 2009
First Presbyterian Church, Lebanon, Oregon
Texts: Psalm 24;  Mark 10:46 – 11:11

[Jesus] said to them, “…you will find a colt [or donkey]

say this, ‘The Lord needs it…’ ” — Mark 11:2-3

This is the point in reading our way through all of Mark’s telling of the gospel story that things get a little strange for us.  We’ve arrived at the part of the story often labeled “Jesus’ Triumphant Entry into Jerusalem,” and we’re used to hearing this read on Palm Sunday.  In fact I read Mark 11:1-11 this past Palm Sunday and preached a sermon on it titled “Stop! Look! Listen! Learn!” that focused on how hard it can be for us to get beyond our expectations and what we think we already know in order to learn something new.  We call this Jesus’ Triumphant Entry, and apparently the crowds see it so.  They cry out, “Hosanna!” which means “save us,” and then a Psalm verse that celebrates victory in battle.  In essence they proclaim Jesus a new king in the line of David who will lead them to glorious victory in battle against the Roman occupiers of Israel.  But what is actually happening is a bit of subversive street theater.  For Jesus comes riding, not on a warhorse but on a colt or a donkey, a minor agricultural beast.  As I noted on Palm Sunday, it’s as incongruous as if the Grand Martial of a 4th of July military parade refused to ride in an armored vehicle or limousine and chose instead to pedal a unicycle festooned with flowers and balloons or perhaps drive one of those little Shriners’ go-karts.

A Sermon by Sydney V. (Skip) Jackson — September 13, 2009
Indianola Presbyterian Church, Columbus, Ohio
Texts:  Mark 9:42 - 10:12;  10:13-45

Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God
as a little child will never enter it. — Mark 10:15

James and John… came forward and said to Jesus,

your left, in your glory.” — Mark 10:35, 37

Sometimes the only way we ever learn is through repetition.

Something like 30 years ago I was driving from New Mexico to Michigan.  Now, a lot of you will remember that in the 1970s most highways had a 55 mph speed limit in response to gasoline shortages.  Gas prices had skyrocketed to more than a dollar per gallon.  It was really hard to stay at 55 on the open road, so when I saw the flashing red lights in my mirror while cruising on the Oklahoma Turnpike, I looked down to see I was doing about 70.  The result was a ticket, and the practice at that time in Oklahoma was for the officer to confiscate my driver’s license, which would be returned to me when I mailed in the fine.  The officer gave me a copy of the citation, which had a section he filled in to serve as a temporary license until then.  Well it was only four or five hours later in Missouri when it happened again—flashing red lights, look down, speedometer at 70.  I pull over.  The office comes to my window, but I don’t have a driver’s license to hand him, just this slip of paper, a ticket for doing 70 in a 55 zone.  The officer looks at it, shakes his head, and says, “We’re just not getting through to you, Mr. Jackson.”

 Reading in Mark 10, I wonder if Jesus’ might have said that same thing over and over to his disciples—“Guys, we’re just not getting through to you.”  People were bringing little children for Jesus to touch, but the disciples would have none of that.  They spoke sternly, “Stop that!  Don’t go bothering Jesus with these kids!”  Didn’t they hear a few days before when Jesus took a little child in his arms and said, “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me”?  But now they’ve messed up again.  Jesus is indignant: “Guys, we’re just not getting through to you.”

 

A Sermon by Sydney V. (Skip) Jackson — September 6, 2009
Indianola Presbyterian Church, Columbus, Ohio
Text:  Psalm 131;  Mark 9:2-41

…on the way [the disciples] had argued with one another

last of all and servant of all.” — Mark 9:34-35

If there is a dominant theme in our culture, it’s about competition and success… winning… striving to be number one.  It’s there with a religious fervor in O.S.U. football.  But people don’t have to be Buckeye fans to subscribe to Vince Lombardi’s maxim, “Winning isn’t everything; it’s the only thing.”  Competition seems to drive everything.  In school, there’s competition for grades and class rankings.  It was behind the cheating scandal at Centerburg High School this past spring.  In adulthood, there’s the rat race of jobs, raises, promotions.  Each year brings a new American Idol, Academy Award winners, Nobel prizes, World Champions in all kinds of sports, and a list of the 100 richest people in the world.  So who is the greatest?

The disciples, in their usual failure to grasp what’s going on, argued about this as they headed home to Capernaum.  Who is the greatest?  And Jesus called them together and turned all traditional values upside down.  The least become greatest.  Masters are to be servants.  Last and first trade places.  And little children become examples.  Do you want to become first?  You must be last… and servant of all—even of children.  Clearly the kingdom of God is chock full of surprises.