Following Jesus

Title slide with photo of two rock churches where the sermon will be preached

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry & Bluemont Churches
November 18, 2024
Mark 11:1-11

Sermon recorded at Mayberry on Friday, November 15, 2024.

At the beginning of worship: 

“I wish it need not have happened in my time,” said Frodo in Tolkien’s The Fellowship of the Ring.

Some of you may be feeling that way today. Listen to the wise words of Gandalf. “So do I, and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time given us.”[1]

It’s been years, decades, almost a half century, since I read Tolkien. But this passage, which was shared widely by many on social media over the past few weeks, rings true. We don’t get to choose the time in which we live. But what’s important is how we live during the time we’re given. Do we follow Jesus? Do we live the virtues and values he espoused: loving others, protecting the vulnerable, caring for those in need, and speaking the truth? 

Or do we give in to the fleeting values and flashy ideas of the present age? There are always challenges to the gospel, but our calling as followers of Jesus is to the heavenly kingdom. 

Before the reading of scripture

One of the interesting things about working through a book of scripture, chapter by chapter, is that you have little control over what comes up when. We will see this today. This will be the first time I have preached on a passage normally reserved for Palm Sunday at another time during the year. I did the same thing a few months ago. Then, I preached on the transfiguration in summer and not as the lectionary would have it, the Sunday before Lent.[2]But that’s okay. We may be better able to understand the passage without the trappings of a Palm Sunday service. 

In a way, Mark’s story of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem is anticlimactic. About half of the story focuses on acquiring the beast, which in Mark is an unbroken colt.[3] Then there is the focus on getting ready for the parade from preparing the beast and dropping cloaks and branches along the roadway. Then they entered the city singing from the 118th Psalm. For Mark, this is the first time we hear of Jesus being in Jerusalem.[4] Then Jesus and the disciples then quickly leave the city and head over to Bethany for the night. Perhaps, like today, rooms were cheaper in the suburbs than in the city center. 

While we are not given the exact time, the entry into Jerusalem could have occurred on the same day as Jesus healing Blind Bartimaeus in Jericho. It seems to be late in the day when they enter the city, for they quickly leave as evening approaches. If this is the case, they’d had time to make the 15 mile walk earlier in the day.

But another option suggested by some (and supported by the Gospel of John),[5] has Jesus in the city longer than just the week recorded in the Passion. This would allow him time to meet and get to know the owner of the animal he rode the day we’re reviewing. Furthermore, the cries of Hosanna and the recitation of Psalm 118 was more in line with the fall harvest festival than the Passover.[6] But that’s a tidbit that we can’t settle, so I’ll stick to Mark’s week timeline. 

Let’s listen to Mark’s report of this eventful day.

Read Mark 11:1-11

Something seems to be missing from this passage. We have Jesus, the disciples, a parade, and a crowd. But where are the authorities? Where are those in charge of crowd control? Where’s the chief priest wanting to know what’s up with this new fangle religious group?[7] Where are the Roman soldiers standing by to ensure things stay orderly? The other gospels, who tell this story, go into more detail. But Mark is sparse on details. 

We always image the day to be picture-perfect. The sun shines. Wind blows just enough to keep the bugs away and to cool those marching up to the city.  People pour into the Holy City for the upcoming holiday.

Jesus and his gang also come up to Jerusalem. When a few miles from town, Jesus sends his disciples into the next village to procure a colt. It sounds like Jesus had worked all this out in advance. He gives the unnamed disciples an address to find this unridden colt. And he lets them know that if challenged, they should just say, “Master needs the colt and will return it afterwards.”

The two disciples head off, find the beast, and as they are leading it back to Jesus, sure enough someone challenges them. It doesn’t sound like it’s the owner, but maybe a neighbor. And once they say, “The Master needs it,” they’re allowed to lead the animal back to the disciples’ camp. 

This whole procurement of the beast may have several meanings. Does Jesus know even trivial things about the future. Not only does he know about his upcoming death, but where to find a beast and what to say when challenged for taking it. In addition, the borrowing of a horse is a pejorative of a king… And having an unridden horse could be another subtle hint of Jesus’ royalty. King’s horses were generally off-limits for everyone else.[8]

When the two disciples get back to Jesus, they place some cloaks onto the beast to serve as a saddle. Others placed their cloaks on the ground in front of Jesus, kind of like Walter Raleigh did for the Queen to earn the title Sir. Other’s place leafy branches on the ground in front of Jesus’ path. If you want to read about palms, check out John’s gospel.[9]

Jesus must have been one brave hombre, riding an animal that hasn’t been broken. But the beast seems tame. At least we’re not told of it rearing up like a bucking bronco in a rodeo. As he makes his way toward the gates of Jerusalem, the people sing the 118thPsalm, a revolutionary Psalm for it hails a new king coming on the scene. 


But then Jesus goes into the gates of the city, looks around for a bit and visits the temple before heading off to Bethany. Supposedly, the two disciples returned the colt to where they found it. 

Since the 8th Chapter, everything has played out with Jerusalem in the background.[10] Now they have arrived at the holy city. Jesus comes in, not as a warrior, but still honored. But the disciples, like us, have heard that Jesus isn’t going to sit on David’s throne. Instead, he’s come to the city to suffer and die. Knowing this, do we stick around with Jesus? Or would we be like the disciples and scatter when things go south while the rest of the crowd cry out for Jesus’ crucifixion? 

Real transformation takes place at the cross, not in the hype of a parade.[11] Perhaps this is why Mark plays down Jesus’ entrance to Jerusalem, as compared to the other three gospels. For a religion which only stresses “feeling good” is a Palm Sunday religion and does not take seriously our human condition toward sin. Our faith must be grounded in Jesus’ death and resurrection. 

Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem is about politics. In a way, Jesus mocks other politicians who entered the city with pomp and circumstance. As Jesus enters the city, at least two other significant political figures are either already in the city or will arrive shortly after Jesus. Pilate and Herod were both in the city during the Passover. While we don’t know, we could easily imagine there would have been a parade for the two of them. Such a parade would have involved fancy horses, chariots, soldiers with shinny brass, and perhaps a band. 

Pilate and Herod’s arrival displayed the powers of the kingdom. Jesus’ entry displays the power of a mysterious kingdom, one not of this world

Would we have been lured by Jesus riding bareback on a colt or by the fancy horses decked out for Rome?  

As we have worked through the gospel of Mark, seeing how Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem comes to nothing, perhaps we should recall the seeds which fell on rocky soil. The soil received the seed with joy, but it lasted just a short period of time before the challenges arose and without root, the plants wilted.[12]

Mark warns us. Our loyalty belongs to Jesus, not to anyone or anything else. He is the only one who can forgive our sin and heal our souls. But we must accept him on his terms, not to attempt to make him into the Messiah we want. We follow him, not the other way around. And remember, his entry into Jerusalem is but the calm before the storm. Amen. 


[1] J. R. R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Rings. This quote has been reposted many times on Facebook and Twitter over the past few weeks. 

[2] See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/09/01/the-transfiguration/

[3] Matthew 21:2 speaks of a donkey and a colt. Luke 19:30, like Mark, speaks of an unridden colt.  John 12:14 and 14 speaks of a donkey and a donkey colt. 

[4] In Luke, we’re told of Jesus being at the temple on the 8th day after his birth and again when he was 12. Matthew, like Mark, only puts Jesus in Jerusalem at the end of his life. John has Jesus in Jerusalem many times before his “Triumphant Entry.” See John 2:13, 23, 4:45, and 5:1. 

[5] John 10:22, puts Jesus in Jerusalem for the Feast of Dedication (Fall festival) and then across the Jordan but still in Judea (John 10:40 and 11:54), before his entry into the city. James R. Edwards, The Gospel According to Mark (Grand Rapids, Eerdmans, 2002), 333.

[6] Edwards, 332.

[7] Matthew 21:10 speaks of the city being in turmoil after Jesus’ entry.  Luke 19:39-40 tells us the Pharisees asked Jesus to have his followers to quiet things down. John’s gospel (12:19) records Pharisees throwing up their hands in resignation with all who are following Jesus. 

[8] Morna D. Hooker, The Gospel According to Mark: Black’s New Testament Commentaries (1991, Hendrickson’s Publishing, 1997), 258, and Edwards, 336.

[9] John 12:12. 

[10] The first of three predictions of Jesus going to Jerusalem to die was in Mark 8:31-33. 

[11] This quote comes from me, which I used in a sermon on this same passage. I preached the sermon at First Presbyterian Church of Hastings, Michigan on April 13, 2014. 

[12] Edwards, 338. See also Mark 4:6, 16-17.  See also https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/04/28/the-parable-of-the-sower/

A Good Boy

Title slide with photo of Trisket and me in a canoe

I have been working on a post, but just didn’t have time to finish it. As I’m coming up this week on the 7th anniversary of Trisket’s death, I decided to pulled this post from an older blog and reposted it.

Trisket lying on the kitchen floor on the night before his death, November 2017.

Over the past year, I often watched you sleep.  At times, your legs twitched. I imagined you dreaming of when you were younger and ran with grace.  In your sleep, were you still circling the house at full speed, stopping only to chase squirrels back up into the trees? 

Over the past year, on our walks, I took the lead while you moped behind. As I slowed down to your speed, I wondered if you recalled dragging me as we headed into Hastings or up the canyon by Cedar Creek.

Over the past few months, I watched in sadness as you bumped into walls and furniture. Your cataract eyes glassed over, and I wondered if you remembered the hours we played in the kitchen. Your sharp eyes followed my hand as I tossed popcorn. You’d snap each kernel out of the air, seldom missing. And how, I could never make banana pudding without you being under my feet. While you never turned down a strip of steak, you loved banana pudding. I even tested you once, putting a dab of banana pudding on one plate and a strip of steak on another. When I let you go, you headed straight for the pudding, then the steak. Always go for dessert, first, you taught. And let’s not forget how much you loved pineapple!

When we moved to Skidaway, near Savannah, you struggled in the humidity and heat. I wondered if you recalled snow. Could you remember running through it as you scooped it up with your snout and tossed it in the air, snapping at the falling flakes as if it was popcorn.

I am thankful that to the end, when you stood beside me, pressing your neck on my lower thigh. You were atthe right height for my fingers to bury themselves in your beautiful mane. And I always loved how you stood in the wind. The tufts at the end of your ears flew back, as you sniffed and enjoyed the breeze.  Sadly, I miss our long walks around town, our hikes in the wood, and how you sat like General Washington in the middle of the canoe as we floated down river.  

You were so gentle with that little girl, the one who picked you out of the litter and named you for a cracker. You always looked out for her and for that reason alone, I am eternally grateful. The two of you grew up together, but you grew old much too fast. Seventeen years is a long time for a dog, they say, but not nearly long enough.  The house is way too big, lonely, and sad tonight. I keep listening for the sounds of your clanking tags and the tap of your toenails on the hardwood, but only hear the cold rain splattering on the deck out back. We’re all going to miss you, Trisket.  You were such a good boy, a pretty boy, a big furry fluffball!

My favorite photo of Trisket and me. On the Thornapple River in Michigan in 2007. He would have been around 7 years old at this time.

Those who see, follow

title slide with photos of the two churches

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry & Bluemont Churches
November 10, 2024
Mark 10:46-52

Sermon recorded at Bluemont on Saturday, November 9, 2024

At the beginning of worship: 

Back in the good old days (the fall of 1992, the last time the Pirates played for the National League Pennant), I meet up with friends in Pittsburgh for a game. Sadly, they lost the series in seven games to the Braves, but at least I was able to watch them win one. On this night, as it was an evening game, we carpooled together and parked in one of the many parking decks in downtown and walked across the 6th Street Bridge to Three River Stadium. We were not the only ones who decided to do this. There were hoards crossing the bridge filling not only the sidewalks but also part of the roadway. 

I was out in the edge of the road and couldn’t help but notice through the people to my left, a beggar in ratty clothes and a cup, sitting up against the bridge’s railing. I was shocked to see people just step over him. The crowd was so large there was no way they could go around. I have no idea if anyone dropped any coins into his cup. The noise was so loud I couldn’t have heard the jingle. Besides, we were all so excited to get to the game. The man was just in the way and those close to the edge of the bridge had no choice but to step over him.[1]  

As you know, we frequently see homeless people in urban areas. And when there is a crowd, it is easy to rationalize that someone else will help, or so we assume. Besides, the crowd swept everyone along toward the stadium. I hope there will be grace for the crowd because that ignored man was also a child of God.

Before the reading of scripture:

As we’ve seen over the past month, the tenth chapter of Mark is full of advice on discipleship. We had the rich young ruler, who just couldn’t leave his wealth behind to follow Jesus.[2] If you are going to follow Jesus, you must be all in. You can’t hedge your bets. And we had James and John, as we saw last week, try to use Jesus for their personal greatness. They learned that’s not what Jesus’ kingdom is about.[3] If you come to Jesus to get ahead in the world, you’re in for the wrong reason.

The 10th chapter ends with an example of a true disciple, one who was at rock bottom and is appreciative of whatever Jesus could do for him. And the man is not only healed but also follows Jesus. The word Jesus uses for Bartimaeus’ healing also means to be saved.[4]

Interestingly, Bartimaeus is the only person healed in the synoptic gospels named.[5] Maybe he’s also an example of the last being first.[6] A nobody depending on the generosity of strangers, until Jesus comes along. Now he’s a somebody with a name! He credits Jesus. We should do likewise. 

Read Mark 10:46-52

The story I told you about the beggar along the 6th Street Bridge in Pittsburgh was like what happened in Jericho some two thousand years ago. Jesus and the crowd head to Jerusalem. Excitement fills the air as pilgrims, hoping to spend the Passover in the holy city, make their way through the last major urban area, and of the oldest cities in the world, on their journey to Jerusalem. 

I imagine it’s morning. After all, they’re a good day’s hike from their destination and a steep climb ahead. There will be few places to stop, until they get to the villages surrounding Jerusalem.[7] So an early start assures their arrival before dark. And we know what happens to lone hikers in this curvy stretch through the hills. Recall the story of the Good Samaritan.[8]

So, they head out early and in a crowd. Perhaps they sing the fifteen Songs of Ascent, which we know as Psalm 120 through 134. It’s part of the Psalter sung by Pilgrims heading to Jerusalem.[9] Leaving Jericho, they look up to the hills ahead, as we hear in Psalm 121: 

I lift my eyes to the hills.

From where does my help come?
My help comes from the Lord
,

Creator of heaven and earth.

It should be noted the pagan believers around Israel often worshipped Baal or other idols on the high points of hills and mountains. But for the faithful Jew, they didn’t see the mountains as a place of worship but as an indication of the greatness of their God, the creator of all. The mountains instill awe. 

So, among the singing and the talking along the way, the multitude, like those of us going to see the Pirates play, totally ignore a blind beggar sitting on the side of the road at the edge of town. That is, until he learns Jesus is in the crowd. Bartimaeus must have heard about Jesus, who had previously given sight to the blind.[10] So, he begins to make a fuss, shouting, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.” 

But the crowd has no time for this. They tell him to hush, not to bother Jesus for he is a busy man with a long walk ahead. But the blind beggar only shouts louder. Now we have our first miracle of the story. Jesus hears the man! Over the singing and the excitement of the crowd and the hum of a busy city waking up, Jesus hears the man’s cry and stops. Imagine the crowd so thick that Jesus must ask those near the man to bring him over. 

At this point, the crowd stops their rebuke of the man. Essentially, they say, “Dude, it’s your lucky day.” A path opens for him to travel through the crowd. The man throws off his cloak and makes his way to Jesus. 

Standing in darkness before Jesus, our Savior asks the man, “What is it you want me to do for you?” We’ve heard that question before, haven’t we?  Well, yes, in our text last week, just before this passage. James and John asked Jesus to grant them a wish and he responded with this same question, “What is it you want me to do for you?”[11]

But the answer Bartimaeus gives couldn’t have been more different that the one given by the two disciples. The disciples wanted fame, honor, greatness, and all that would go with being next to the king. They could become wealthy from such a position! But this man doesn’t take Jesus for granted. Instead, he addresses him reverently and only asks to be made whole, that he be given his sight so that he could live, not as a beggar, but as productive citizen of society. 

You know, we should try to place ourselves into the position of the blind man sitting on the side of the road or even the homeless man sitting against the railing on the 6th Street Bridge in Pittsburgh. Life often beats us down. Yet, on these days, both men had a good spot. Because of the crowds, it’s the perfect place to beg. 

But is that the life we want? We really want more from life than that, don’t we? But if we’re in their places, we’re desperate. We see no way out (after all, the man in our story is blind). But then a glitter of hope arrives. We hear about Jesus. This is our opportunity. The question to ask, “are we willing to risk it? To make a fool of ourselves to catch Jesus’ attention?” 

Bartimaeus is desperate. He may have felt this was his last chance. So far down on his luck, he ignores the crowd’s insistence that he keep quiet and in his place. He cries so loudly that he makes a fool of himself. And Jesus hears. 

The good news of this story is that Jesus hears Bartimaeus and responds. Even in the turmoil and confusion of the world, God can hear our cries, our pleas. But for us to find help like Bartimaeus, we must be willing to risk it all. 

Bartimaeus tosses down his cloak, possibility his only possession of value, because he needs to quickly make his way to Jesus. He risks losing it because he has an opportunity. He trusts this man whom he’s heard so much about that he acts like a fool and then is given an opportunity. And, unlike James and John in the previous story from Mark, Bartimaeus is not greedy.  

You know, Jesus tells us to pray for our daily bread.[12] We’re not to pray for full pantries or wealth or fame, but just what we need to get by. And we’re to pray daily because that’s how we learn to trust, not in ourselves, but in the one who has created and redeemed us. 

In our journey through Mark’s gospel, the twelve disciples continually trip over themselves because they don’t yet fully trust Jesus. So here, at the end of the chapter on discipleship, we’re given an example. It’s not one of the twelve. Nor is it the rich man. It’s the blind beggar. He had hit rock bottom and calls out to the only place he can find help. And when Jesus answers, unlike the rich man, the beggar follows and I expect he continued to follow, telling others about when he met Jesus. 

When we are at wits end, we can call out to Jesus. And when he answers, when he lifts us up, we should continue to follow him, humbling giving thanks for the blessings we’ve experienced. Amen. 


[1] I told this story before, with a slightly different focus, in a sermon on November 2, 1997.

[2] Mark 10:17-31. See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/10/20/with-god-all-things-are-possible/

[3] https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/11/03/the-demands-of-discipleship/

[4] James R. Edwards, The Gospel According to Mark, (Grand Rapids, Eerdmans, 2002), 331. 

[5] Ibid.

[6] This appears a common saying of Jesus. See Matthew 19:30, 20:16; Mark. 9:35, 10:31; and Luke 13:30. 

[7] Jericho is located 840 feet below sea level and 3500 feet below Jerusalem. Edwards, 329. It’s 18 miles from Jerusalem. William L. Lane, The Gospel of Mark (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1974), 386. 

[8] Luke 10:25-37. 

[9] For insight into the Psalms of Ascent, see Eugene H. Peterson, A Long Obedience in the Same Direction: Discipleship in an Instant Society (InterVarsity, 1980).

[10] Mark 8:22-26. See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/08/18/open-our-eyes/

[11] Mark 10:36.  See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/11/03/the-demands-of-discipleship/

[12] This petition is in the Lord’s Prayer. See Matthew 6:11 and Luke 11:3

Soap Box Derby

When I was in Wilmington two weeks ago, I spent a lot of time with my sister going through my parents photos and came up with these photos of my soap box derby cars. This is the story of building and racing these cars.

I sat in my car on the starting platform. The platform had been installed at the top of what might be the tallest hill in New Hanover County. They had closed a section of 16th Street for the Saturday running of the 1971 Soap Box Derby. Gripping the wheel and leaning back as far as possible to cut the drag, I glanced over at my opponent.  His car was sleek, constructed of fiberglass, but with lots of metal inside. I knew it would be fast, but I had registered good time during the practice trials and had easily won my first race. 

The starter, holding high the flag, let it fall. The gates dropped and the cars eased down the plywood ramp and onto the pavement. I concentrated on staying low and keeping my car straight in its lane. The cars began picked up speed. I saw the other car pull slightly ahead as we shot toward the finish line. The checker flag fell. He won and my days of racing had come to an end. Later that morning, the car which beat mine became the overall winner. He got to go to Akron, Ohio, for the nationals. 

Soap Box Derby Car
I’m sitting on the “hood” of the my second car with my younger brother sitting inside the car with a friend of his on the back. My other brother stands behind the car.

This was my second year of building a soap box derby. Both years I lost in the second round of a single elimination tournament.  

The Wilmington Jaycees held the event. They provided participants with a basic kit which included wheels and axles, a steering wheel, wire, and brake assembly. The sponsors of our event cover the cost and provided a small amount of funds (I think it was $35, which wouldn’t today purchase the plywood) for everything else. I used two sheets. I cut the floorboard and the bulkheads out of ¾ inch plywood. The body I fashioned out of ¼ inch plywood. The metal axles went inside a 1-inch board. Cutting a channel half way through the boards, I chiseled out a channel for the axle. Then I planed down the front side to make the axle cover streamlined. 

Those of us who were drivers were to build our own cars with only adult supervision.  The first year, I built my car under the carport at our house with David Hunter. David’s father had recently died, so my father served as both of our supervisors. We were to build our cars ourselves, which my father ensured except for the rough cutting of the ¾ inch plywood, which required a circular saw. My father insisted we were too young but allowed us to use jig saws to cut out the bulkheads. Each of these he had us file down to make smooth. I remember lots of stokes using a half-moon file. 

The floorboard also had a wooden cutout for a brake. The pedal was made of plywood left over from the center of the bulkheads. A wire ran from pedal to the break in the back, where a wooden 2×4 with a piece of tire on the bottom served as the brake.. When pressed, the brake descended to the road and slowed the car. 

Then I attached the bulkheads with angle braces. This was in the day before power drivers, so we drilled pilot holes and used screwdrivers to fix the screws and bolts. 

The rear axle and cover were attached with bolts to the back of the floorboard. The front axle was attached with a single bolt, allowing it to move two inches. This was for safety since we were running a straight course. If we could have steered any more, there would probably be cars running into each. This was just enough movement to allow us to make minor adjustments to our path. I then installed the steering wheel between the first two bulkheads in the front. A wire wound around the steering wheel shaft, threaded through pulleys, ran out to each side of the front axle. This allowed us, when racing, to turn the axle slightly to adjust for bumps in the pavement. 

At this point, we attached ¼ inch plywood over the bulkheads. The sides were rather simple, but the top required us to use a circular saw with the blade set about 1/8 of an inch to cut strips underneath the plywood, allowing it to bend. With barely any blade showing, my father decided to let us use the saw ourselves. 

Once all the plywood was attached, we installed a seat, covered screw holes with putty, and painted the car. My first year, I chose orange with a blue racing strip. For my second year, I used purple with a white stripe.  Since we could have a professional do the sponsors lettering on the car, my father volunteered to do it. 

family and soap box derby car
My first car. I’m sitting inside, flanked by my two brothers and sister. Behind is my father, my grandparents on my father’s side and my grandmother on my mother’s side.

When the car was done, we hauled them on a flatbed trailer the day before the race to a warehouse which had been reserved on 13th Street. There, they checked our cars to make sure they weren’t too heavy, and everything was safe and to regulation.  My car the first year was about 30 pounds lighter than it had to be. When they checked us in, they kept our cars impounded until race day. 

That evening, after the race, the Jaycees threw a banquet for us. We were presented with medals and endured motivation speeches by a couple of the Jaycees.

In building my second car, I mostly worked by myself since David didn’t sign up to build another car. Moving my radio out to the carport, I remember repeatedly hearing that summer Three Dog Night sing “Joy to the World” as I worked.  

I had learned a few things from my first car. I wanted the car to be more streamlined and heavier. Trying to figure out how to add weight, my father suggested that instead of buying lightweight angle braces, we use ¼” steel angle iron. Someone he knew cut them into 2-inch-long angles. At the front and back, I used six-inch-long angle iron. This was overkill, but it added weight. Drilling through the iron was difficult, but it was worth it for the weight. I also added more ¾ plywood in the bracing and using solid pieces at the front and back. By the time I completed the car, it was only about 2 pounds under the maximum. The added weight and the sleeker design created a faster car than my first traditional design.  In the end, it didn’t matter. The fastest car knocked me out in the second heat. 

The Demands of Discipleship

Title slide with photos of the two churches

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry & Bluemont Churches
Mark 10:32-45
November 3, 2024

Sermon taped at Mayberry Church on Friday, November 1, 2024

At the beginning of worship: 

I’ve struggled what to say today as we are on the cusp of a major election. Many, on both sides, say this is the most important election of our lives. The stakes are high. I’ve heard preachers, again on both sides, say their way is the only way you must vote to be a Christian. They can’t all be right, can they.

While I don’t want to deny the importance of what will happen on Tuesday (or has already happened as so many of us have voted already), we need to remember that our most important election involves God voting for us. That vote, as we’ll be reminded of in today’s scripture, was counted when Jesus ransomed his life for ours. Regardless of what happens on Tuesday, God remains with us.

As Christians, we live in this world and are called to be good citizens of it. We’re to work for the good of all.[1] However, we must never lose focus that our true home isn’t among worldly powers, but with our Savior and Lord Jesus Christ. Furthermore, we must remember that even those with whom we disagree have been created in the image of God. Everyone has value. None of us have no right to devalue others with whom we disagree or dislike. Respect and character are important traits for us and our leaders.

“What would our Savior and Lord, the gentle and humble Jesus, want us to do?” That’s a decision you will have to decide. I have my convictions, which I have shared with some privately. But my calling is to point to Jesus Christ. That’s all I will do from the pulpit. The only other things I will do is remind you that your salvation isn’t built upon the choice you make on Tuesday. All candidates have flaws, some more than others. Only Jesus is perfect. Again, thankfully, our hope is in God’s election, not ours. 

Before reading the Scripture:

We’re back on our journey through Mark’s gospel. One of my professors in his commentary on Mark suggests the gospel is primarily a passion narrative with a very long introduction.[2] The passion has to do with Jesus’ suffering and death in Jerusalem. We’ve seen over the past two chapters Jesus dropping hints as to his upcoming suffering and death. The disciples struggle to understand. 

Our reading today, Jesus and the disciples are on the road to Jerusalem. He provides the third prediction of the passion. 

In our previous passage, Jesus reminded us of the Kingdom’s unusual economy. The first become last, and the last become first. Our passage ends with a saying which builds upon that message, one which Jesus places himself in the equation of the last being first. As Paul writes to the Philippians:

Jesus “didn’t regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave… humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death—even death on a cross.”[3]

Read Mark 10:32-45

Three strikes and you’re out. We won’t hear those words for a few months as the World Series ended this week with a Dodger’s win. By March, Spring Training will be in full swing and maybe you can catch a game and maybe the Pirates will play consistently better. 

Today, it’s the disciples who strike out. Three times they swing for the fence and fail to connect. Each strike was right after Jesus predicted his coming passion. It’s not something the disciples want to hear. 

Peter took the first swing when he challenged Jesus’ prediction of his suffering and death. This can’t happen to the Messiah, Peter insists. Jesus calls Peter Satan and tells him to get back in line. Peter is a follower, he’s not to be making the rules.[4]

The second time when Jesus shares with them about his upcoming passion, the disciples not understanding, argue about who’s the greatest. Jesus again sets them straight.[5]

In today’s text, it’s James and John who takes the strike. Amazing, isn’t it. Jesus tells the disciples all that’s going to happen once they reach Jerusalem, and the disciples are still worried over what they can get from following Jesus. 

Sadly, we’re also like that, I think. We look out for ourselves. The Jesus, whom we are called to follow, wants us to trust him and look out for others. Jesus, building on our text from two weeks ago, where he told the disciples about the last being first, places himself in his game. He came to serve, to give us life for the life of many.[6]

This all took place while Jesus and the disciples are on their way to Jerusalem. We’re given a picture of Jesus, out in front, leading the way, while those who followed him lag, afraid of what’s ahead. While the text doesn’t give us a number of those following Jesus, it sounds as if there are more than just the twelve, as Jesus must cull the twelve out from the crowd to teach. 

Jesus provides his third prediction of his death. When something is repeated three times, you should realize it’s important. It’s like the old saying, “Tell them what you want to say, tell them, and then tell them what you said.”  Jesus makes sure it’s clear. Here, in his third prediction, he provides more details. He’ll be betrayed to the religious leaders and sentenced to death, then handed over to the gentiles (the Romans) who will mockingly carry out the punishment. But, as Jesus has also reminded them, on the third day, he will rise. 

Jesus couldn’t have been clearer. He’s not raising an army and conquering Rome. He lays down his life for the world. This makes me shake my head at James and John. Afterwards, they ask Jesus for a favor. Perhaps they ask for the favor without telling Jesus what’s involved to trap Jesus. “Oh, I’ll do anything for you,” they hope Jesus will say. But Jesus is clever and asks what it they want.

We should note that James and John are in the inner core. They, along with Peter, were the three in attendance at the transfiguration.[7] So perhaps they think they have a right to be given key positions in the kingdom, even though they slight Peter. But they also don’t understand what Jesus’ glory will entail. Jesus tries to straighten them out, speaking of the cup or the baptism he’s to endure. Let’s pause to consider the meaning of the cup and baptism.

The cup—in the Old Testament—was something provided by God. It could be joy or prosperity (as in “my cup runneth over” in the 23rd Psalm). But, more often, cup means judgment as in Psalm 11, which speaks of the scorching winds as the cup of the wicked.[8] Jesus also refers to the cup as woe, when he prays in the garden before his arrest.[9] Jesus’ cup contains our sins.

As for baptism, it might be pointed out that Jesus has already been baptized as we’ve seen in the first chapter of Mark’s gospel. But baptism symbolizes both death and resurrection. Descending into the water suggests death; being lifted out of the water symbolizes resurrection. Paul makes this point in Romans; in a passage I recite at almost every funeral at which I officiate: 

Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? 4We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, so that as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life. For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.[10]

It’s clear that the cup and baptism of which Jesus speaks has to do with his death and resurrection. Are James and John really willing to go through such? They say they are, but even then, Jesus can’t promise them the coveted seats because that’s not what his kingdom is about. 

As we might suspect, the remaining ten of the disciples are not very happy with James and John going behind their back to obtain special favors. Mark, however, doesn’t identity their problems with the two. After all, it’s quite possible they are upset that James and John got a jump start on them, for they all seem self-centered. They haven’t learned the key to the gospel any better than most people today. 

So, Jesus gathers the 12 back around him to discuss things out. He points out how the gentile rulers are tyrants over others. We’ve not changed too much, have we, considering the rhetoric of our current election. Nor has the world changed much if you consider how Putin can invade another country and have the blessing of the Russian Orthodox Church. Our world, and our nation, seems only to understand might and power. The virtues of service service and gentleness remain hidden. 

But in God’s kingdom, our values are turned on their head. What’s important is serving others. Jesus identities service with himself, the one willing to give his life to save us.  

The last verse in our passage helps us understand Jesus’ nature. The ramson for many doesn’t mean a limited number. According to one scholar, in “Semitic grammar the many normally stands for totality,” for all.[11] The phrase in the Orthodox communion liturgy rings out, “Jesus Christ gave his life “for the life of the world.”[12]Jesus’ willingness to pay the price opens all the world to God’s kingdom, to a new way of living and of being. 

This passage reminds us to be careful of our egos. We shouldn’t let the powers of the world tempt us or draw us away from our focus on the cross and the realization of all it entails. Jesus died that we might live. That’s the good news. And he calls us to be willing to put our own wellbeing behind that of others, so that his glory might be revealed. Are we up to it? Amen.


[1] See Romans 13 and Jeremiah 29:7.

[2] Douglas R. A. Hare, Westminster Bible Commentary: Mark (Louisville, KY: WJKP, 1996), 127.

[3] Philippians 2:6-7. 

[4] Mark 8:31-9:2. See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/08/25/who-do-you-say-that-i-am/

[5] Mark 9:30-37.  See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/09/22/welcoming-the-vulnerable/

[6] Mark 10:31. See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/10/20/with-god-all-things-are-possible/

[7] Mark 9:2-8. See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/09/01/the-transfiguration/

[8] James R. Edwards, The Gospel According to Mark (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2002), 322-333. 

[9] Mark 14:36. See also Matthew 26:29 and Luke 22:42. 

[10] Romans 6:3-5, RSV. 

[11] Edwards, 327.

[12] See Alexander Schneemann, For the Life of the World: Sacraments and Orthodoxy (St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1975).  

A Reformation Day Sermon

Title slide with photo of the two churches in which this sermon is to be preached.

Jeff Garrison
Reformation Day Sermon for Mayberry and Bluemont Churches[1]
Hebrews 4:14-5:10
October 27, 2024

I was to be on vacation this week, and an elder was going to read this sermon which I first preached on Skidaway Island in 2017. But things changed that required me to remain at home. Next week, God willing, I’ll return to working through the Gospel of Mark.

Sermon recorded on Friday, October 25, 2024

At the beginning of worship: 

Today is Reformation Sunday, when we look back at our glorious history… so let me begin with a cautionary note. Scripture warns us not to look back. It’s what turned Lot’s wife into a clump of salt. Jesus warns that one who puts his hands to the plow and then looks back is not fit to enter the kingdom.[2]

Of course, there are good reasons to look back. When the Jews look back at Passover, they don’t long for the past when they were slaves in Egypt. They remember God’s faithfulness. That’s the good reason to look back, for it does show us how God has led us to the present. We don’t look back with nostalgia, but with thankfulness. 

One of the questions which bothered Martin Luther and got the Reformation rolling was “How can I be saved?”  It sounds self-centered (how can I?), but the focus didn’t stay internal. Martin Luther’s study of the New Testament led him to have faith in a gracious God. The focus quickly moved from Marty’s concern with his soul to God as revealed in Jesus Christ. 

Today we’ll looking at one of the five themes (or solos) of the Reformation, “Christ Alone.” It is in Jesus Christ that we have hope; it is in him that we find salvation. And one day, before him, all will bow.[3] The others themes are faith alone, scripture alone, grace alone, and to God be the glory. 

Before reading the Scripture:

As today is Reformation Sunday, I am going to take a break from working through the Book of Mark and preach from Hebrews, on the theme of Christ Alone. 

One of the historical ways of looking at the role Christ plays in our lives and world is through his three-fold offices: Prophet, Priest and King.[4] As a prophet, Christ brings God’s word to us. As Priest, Christ stands between us and God Almighty. And as King, which is his eternal position, Jesus Christ rules over all creation. As prophet and priest, Jesus redeems the creation he rules. Today, as we consider Christ Alone, we’re look at the second office, that of the Priest. Of course, these three are co-mingled, so we can’t really consider one without the others. 

Now let me say a bit about the Book of Hebrews. As you may have remembered when I preached through this book in 2021, the best way to describe Hebrews is as a sermon (or a series of sermons).[5] These sermons were delivered by an unknown preacher addressing a tired and wore-out congregation. 

Many of those who listened or read this sermon wondered if following Jesus was worth it. Some of you may wonder the same thing. Perhaps, they think, they should go back to their former ways, as Jews or Pagans. Hebrews encourages the congregation to remain faithful and in doing so provides the most complex understanding of the nature of Christ. Who is this man and what does he have to do with us? Well, when we read Hebrews, we understand and are called to keep the faith and to trust in Jesus Christ, who came to bring us life.

 Read Hebrews 4:14-5:10 

The Hunger Games is set in a post-apocalyptic North America, in a dark future. (How many of you have seen the movie? Read the book?) 

Most people in this dystopian world live in fear and without hope. But those who reside in the capitol, live in luxury. Those in the twelve districts suffer and toil, making a rich life possible for those in those in power. Each year, there is a gladiator-like contest where twelve teenagers get to fight to the death in a televised reality program. Only one will survive and this one will live out their lives in luxury. The cruelty of this event serves as entertainment for those in the capitol. It also serves as a reminder to those in the districts of the capitol’s power and of their need to toe the line.

The movie begins with the selection of the participants for the 74thannual Hunger Games. Everyone listens as the names are called. There are shrieks and tears in District 12 when Primrose Everdeen, a sweet young child barely old enough to participate in the lottery, is chosen. But then there’s a cry from the crowd and her older sister, Katniss, who’s 16, steps forward and volunteers in her place. Katniss stands between the officials and her sister. She is a mediator, offering her own life to save her sister.[6]

In ancient Israel, at the temple, the high priest was the mediator. Just as Katniss stood between her sister and the soldiers of the capitol, the high priest stood between the people and God. It was too dangerous for an ordinary individual to go before God. It was risky enough for the high priest, who only stepped into the Holy of Holies once a year to bring forth the sin offerings of the people. But the priest took the risk to benefit the people.  

We have a great high priest, the author of Hebrews proclaims, Jesus Christ! Jesus has benefits as high priest that others did not have. He came from heaven and is the Son of God. However, he is also able to relate to us. Not only is he from heaven, but he has also lived as we live. He has experienced temptation. He knows the trials and tribulations (as well as the joy) of life on earth. 

When we bring our concerns to Christ, he understands. He’s not aloof. Jesus is not a leader who lives locked behind walls and gates with protection all around to keep people away. He’s not like the most wonderful Wizard of Oz hiding behind a façade. 

Jesus is like Katniss, who grew up in District 12 and knows the hardships of the people. The author of Hebrews wants us to understand two things: Jesus not only mediates our sins, but he can also relate to us and to our need.

The ending of the 4th chapter is a call for us to take our burdens to the high priest in prayer. To approach his throne of grace with boldness!  For us, this might not seem a big deal. But it is.

As one Biblical scholar sarcastically noted, contemporary Christians often “engage in prayer with all the casual nonchalance of ordering at a fast-food restaurant. ‘God, I would like this and that,’” we say, as if we had every right to speak to God in this manner. Furthermore, we say it “as if God had an obligation to fill the order.” “But true prayer is prefaced by awe.”[7]  Christians and Jews in the first century knew this. God is holy and dangerous. Jesus came to provide a safe access to God.

Jesus Christ is a high priest who came from heaven; this elevates him above all other high priest. So, there is reason for awe, yet Jesus is also approachable because he came down to our level.

As our passage moves into the 5th Chapter of Hebrews, we are given a job description of the High Priest and evidence that Jesus not only meets but exceeds the requirement. The high priest is chosen from mortals (Jesus was born of Mary). He can deal with the people’s wayward ways (although Jesus wasn’t sinful, he didn’t mind hanging out with those considered sinful). Finally, he must be called by God (again Jesus exceeds in this category). Jesus, who did not brag about being a high priest, had been chosen by God. The writer of Hebrews refers to a mysterious person in the Old Testament, a priest in whom Abraham met, Melchizedek.[8] Jesus is such a priest, an eternal priest. 

Starting in verse 7, we’re reminded of Jesus’ life, and how he prayed when he was on earth. On earth, he was submissive to God his Father, through whom he was made perfect and became the source of Salvation. So not only is Christ the priest, the one standing between us and God, he is also the sacrifice. He is the Lamb of God.[9] He pays the price for our sin and brings us back into relationship with God the Father.[10]  In other words, he’s the one who will, when our life on this earth is all over and done with, usher us into a homecoming unlike one we’ve ever known.  

When the Reformers shouted, “Christ Alone,” they were saying that there was no one else they trusted to stand between them and God. This is why most Protestant Churches did away with priestly offices. We have pastors and preachers and teachers. Our role is to point to Jesus Christ, the one who is the great high priest. Put your trust in him—approach his throne of grace with boldness—for in Christ alone we find salvation.  Let us pray:

Almighty God, we bow and shield our eyes for you are too awesome.  We thank you for coming as Jesus, for coming in a way we can understand and relate. Accept us as his followers and guide us as we strive to keep up with him as he leads us home to you.  Amen.  


[1] I preached this sermon first at Skidaway Island Presbyterian Church in October 2017, as part of a five part series on the “Solas” of the Reformation. 

[2] Genesis 19:26, Luke 9:62.  See M. Craig Barnes, Searching for Home: Spirituality for Restless Souls (Grand Rapids: Brazos Press, 2003), 111.

[3] Romans 14:11, Philippians 2:10.

[4] See Westminster Larger Catechism, Questions 43-45. 

[5] For a different sermon on this passage, see https://fromarockyhillside.com/2021/01/31/jesus-the-high-priest/  

[6] My appreciation to Stan Mast for the idea of using “The Hunger Games” as an illustration.  See https://cepreaching.org/commentary/2015-10-05/hebrews-411-16/

[7] Long, 64.

[8] Genesis 14:17ff.  See also Psalm 110:4.

[9] See Revelation 5. 

[10] John 14:6..

With God, All Things are Possible

Title slide with photos of Mayberry and Bluemont Churches

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry and Bluemont Churches
Mark 10:17-31
October 20, 2024

“With God, All Things are Possible.” Sermon recorded at Mayberry on Friday, October 18, 2024


At the beginning of worship:

One of my favorite C. S. Lewis books, which I have spoken about before, is The Great Divorce.[1] This isn’t a divorce between a man and woman, such as what Jesus discussed early in the 10thchapter of Mark.[2] Lewis divorces heaven and hell. In the 18thCentury, William Blake wrote the epic poem, The Marriage of Heaven and Hell. Two centuries later, Lewis decided a divorce was in order. 

In the book, hell is a gray drab place. But from hell, there is a bus that takes the residents up above the clouds to the outskirts of heaven. And those who travel on the bus are free to make their way on to the glorious eternal city. But they must leave everything behind as they are clothed properly for heaven. In Lewis’ allegory, most of those who get to where they can see heaven are like the rich man in our gospel story today. They just can’t do it. The blinding light of glory reveals their hollowness. They want to hold on to what they have, including their self-esteem and dreams, grudges and hatred. If we want to follow Jesus, we must realize he places a demand on our entire lives.

Before the reading of scripture:

As I pointed out a few weeks ago, Jesus and the disciples are now on a journey to Jerusalem. And we know what will happen there. But there are still times for ministry, which often happens along the road, as we see in today’s passage. 

One of these times for ministry is a man often referred to as the rich young ruler. Mark only tells us he’s a man of wealth. Matthew tells us he’s young and Luke identifies him as a ruler.[3] Let’s hear the passage.

Read Mark 10:17-31

We like being in control. We want to manage everything, even our salvation. Yet, I suggest, that’s a dangerous idea. The Presbyterian and Reformed concept of election (or predestination) acknowledges not only God’s sovereignty, but that it’s much better to let God be in charge. We tend to screw things up. 

In our text, a man approaches Jesus. The man shows reverence toward Jesus, calling him “Good Teacher,” and asking what’s required for eternal life. At first, Jesus seems to play with the man. 

“Why do you call me good?” Jesus asks. In the first century, those who were serious about the commandments only reserved the adjective “Good” or “Great” for God, not for individuals.[4] And while Mark makes this case that Jesus is God, this hasn’t been revealed to this man.[5]

Jesus then recalls the commandments which have to do with our relationships with others: don’t murder, commit adultery, steal, lie, or cheat, and honor your parents.

And the man, without irony, readily admits he has obeyed these commandments since his youth. I say without irony because Jesus appears to accept his answer as the truth, and he loves the man. He wants the man as a disciple. Let’s have a baker’s dozen, 13 disciples. 

But there’s just one more thing Jesus says he needs to do… sell everything and follow him. 

I don’t know why Jesus didn’t ask him to double or even triple his tithe. Well, I do know the reason, but think how much his doubling his tithe would increase the pot of money available to the disciples for mission. But Jesus doesn’t want a fraction of us. Jesus wants our total devotion, and the man couldn’t do it. There was something else he loved more.

Reading behind the text, we can see how this rich man essentially asks, “how much more do I need to do.” In other words, he asks, “What’s the minimum for me to get into heaven?” He obeys the commandments out of self-interest, not the love of God.[6] That’s his problem. He looks out for himself. Even his love for God has to do with what is good for him.

Augustine of Hippo, the great theologian of the early church, suggested we either first love God or ourselves.[7] Obviously, this man loved himself. It’s our love of God which allows us to properly love ourselves and others.

The last we hear from the man are his footsteps as he sulks away with a heavy heart. A very rich man, he just couldn’t do what Jesus asked. 

Jesus turns to the disciples who have witnessed this encounter. He asks them twice if they understand how difficult it is to get into the kingdom of God… Eyes opened wide in response. They stand aghast, desiring reassurance, not barriers. 

Jesus then tells the infamous camel and the eye of a needle parable.

From what we know, none of the disciples were rich. But maybe they saw riches as a sign of God’s favor. Unfortunately, there are still some people like that today, proclaiming a prosperity gospel. But this story undercuts the idea that wealth equals God’s favor. 

What does this story mean to us? Can I get into heaven a little easier by not being too rich? Like maybe for a middle-class person, it’d be like a dog or cat getting through the eye of the needle.  

It shouldn’t take us long to conclude, we don’t stand a chance. That’s the point Jesus drives at. Eternal life isn’t anything we can do on our own.[8] So they ask, “Who has a chance for salvation?”

Jesus agrees that if we try to obtain salvation on our own, we’ll fail. But with God, everything is possible. 

Peter then reminds Jesus that he and the others have bet all they had on Jesus. 

Finally, Peter finds reassurance. Jesus says they’ll get it all back, many times more. But even here, Jesus doesn’t promise pie-in-the-sky. For he also acknowledges they’ll also be persecutions. This world in which we follow Jesus is not a utopia.[9] But the “bonus” at the end is the kingdom, eternal life. 

Jesus concludes this section with a reminder of how God’s economy works. This is a phrase we hear over and over in the synoptic gospels.[10] Many who are great, who are on the top in this world will end up last. And those on the bottom will be first. Do you want to be first or last now or later? It’s a paradox. 

Now, I want to go back to this camel going through an eye of a needle. I have vague memories of discussing this parable in a Junior High Sunday School class a few years ago. And I think we got it wrong. We discussed how molecules and atoms could be broken apart, slid through the needles’ eye, and reassembled. Obviously, we’d seen too much Star Trek. We were too serious to figure out how it was possible to get that camel through the eye as if our salvation depended on it. It doesn’t. 

What Jesus says is that trying to earn our own salvation is like a camel trying to get through the eye of a needle, not that we or God must get the camel through to obtain salvation. 

This is an example of Jesus using hyperbole for humor while making a serious point.[11] One way to make a joke is to take an idea and blow it out of portion. That’s what Jesus does here, as he drives home the idea of our dependence upon God. 

Just try to image how silly this word picture looks—a camel, one of the larger animals in that part of the world, compared to such a minute opening, one I’d have to put on my glasses to see. This is funny, in a “Far Side” kind of fashion. You probably never considered The Far Side as a source of theology, have you? You should. 

Sadly, instead of seeing humor in the parable, people look for loopholes. It’s been going on for a long time. Older texts speak of rope instead of camel. Obviously, the scribes could accept the absurdity. But you can’t thread a rope through a needle’s eye. And then there are those who, instead of a needle, point to a camel’s gate in Jerusalem. This was the gate where the beasts had to get on their knees to pass through. There’s just one problem. In Jesus’ day, there wasn’t a “Camel’s Gate” in Jerusalem. That gate came about roughly 900 years later.[12]

Consider the rich man of our story as an example. He can be any of us. Even the poor cling to our old dying world, to what they have, and are not willing to let go.[13] Just think about those who ignore warnings to get out of the way from a hurricane because they want to protect their stuff. 

In this passage, Jesus reminds us that the call to discipleship, which I hope you all answer, requires priority over all other allegiances. We must shed our old baggage. Yes, wealth is a danger, but only one of many dangers. Anything we place between us and God is spiritually dangerous. 

It’s not by chance that this story comes on the heels of Jesus telling the disciples they must come to the kingdom like a child. Children are totally dependent on their parents, on adults. We must trust Jesus just as a child trusts his or her parents. 

Think about children and how they laugh. They laugh at the silliest of things. We adults think we must be more serious. I wonder if, when Jesus said that if we want to enter the kingdom of God we must come like a child, he meant that we must come laughing at his joke like a child?[14] The great mid-20th Century Theologian Karl Barth suggests that “laughter is the closest thing to the grace of God.”[15] It’s something to ponder. 

So don’t worry about threading that needle. Instead, place your trust in God’s hands and follow his Son. This is the message of the church and the reason this congregation was established, 100 years ago. Things change, but our message remains the same. With God, all things are possible. It’s our job to continue to proclaim it. Amen


[1] C. S. Lewis, The Great Divorce (1945). 

[2] Mark 10:1-13. See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/10/06/jesus-and-divorce/   

[3] Matthew 19:16 and Luke 18:18. 

[4] James R. Edwards, The Gospel According to Mark (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2002), 310.

[5] Mark’s early miracles from healing, raising the dead, controlling the weather, and driving out demons, along with his forgiving of sins,  builds to where an observer must acknowledge only God can do these things. 

[6] Morna D. Hooker, The Gospel According to Saint Mark (1991, Hendrickson Publishing, 1997), 242

[7] Han-Lven Kantzer Komile, “The Augustine Insights on the Law of Double Love” a lecture at the Theology Matter’s Conference, Providence Presbyterian Church, October 9, 2024. 

[8] Jesus challenges a false sense of security here.  See William L. Lane, The New International Commentary on the New Testament:  Gospel of Mark (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1971), 369.

[9] Edwards, 316.

[10] See also Matthew 19:30; 20:16; Luke 13:30. It is also found in the Epistle of Barnabas and the Gospel of Thomas. See Edwards, 217, n42. 

[11] Hooker, 243

[12] Edwards, 314.  The idea of a camel’s gate appears to have come about in the 9th Century.  

[13] Douglas R. A. Hare, Westminster Bible Companion: Mark (Louisville, KY: WJKP, 1996), 126.

[14] See Mark 10:14.  See also Matthew 19:14 and Luke 18:16.

[15] https://www.spiritualityandpractice.com/practices/features/view/20120

Women Making a Difference: Two Memoirs

Title slide with photos of books reviewed

These two books provide examples of women making a difference in a changing world.  If interested in such books, check out a recent post in which I reviewed Beth Moore’s memoir, All My Knotted Up Life

Stephanie Stuckey, Unstuck: Rebirth of an American Icon 

Cover shot of "Unstuck"

(Dallas, TX: Matt Holt Books, 2024), 220 pages, some photos.  

Stuckey’s used to dot the highways of America, especially in the Southeast. As a kid, I remember passing them as we drove to Baltimore for my father’s company annual summer picnic. And then there were the long road trips we took to St. Louis and to Atlanta, passing Stuckey’s at many of the interstate exits. Of course, we seldom stopped. Instead, we  ate peanut butter or bologna sandwiches made from the cooler in the trailer my father pulled. But Stuckey’s, like Howard Johnson’s, was an icon of the road trip. 

I picked up this book after following Stephanie Stuckey on Twitter, a connection I made through a pecan farmerfrom Georgia. Her post focused on her road trips as she strove to rebuilt Stuckey’s, her family business. I have to admit a bit of envy as she able to spend a lot of time traveling and, like me, enjoys the backroads. 

After years of working as an attorney and a Democratic State Legislator in Georgia, Stephanie Stuckey decides to save her family’s business. Her grandfather had started Stuckey’s in the 1930s, with a $50 loan from his mother. The nation was in a depression, but “Big Daddy” went to work buying pecans from local farmers and selling them along with candies his wife made from the nut. He set up shop along the highways which ran to Florida.  World War II could have been a disaster with the decline in travel and rationing of gas and sugar, but he continued. He served truckers and soldiers. When the war was over and America returned to the roads, his business grew. Toward the end of his life, he sold the company for a fortune. 

Stuckey’s father, having learned from working at Stuckey’s, made his own mark on the travel scene. He started a company that established Dairy Queens along the interstates of America. He also spent a decade in congress, and Stuckey grew up in Washington, DC, traveling in the family’s station wagon back and forth to Georgia. Now in her 50s, having served as an attorney and running nonprofits, Stephanie Stuckey brought back the company which bears her family’s name. 

This book is more than just the story of Stuckey attempting to resurrect her family’s business. She provides a history of the company and her family’s involvement within the business. As a Southerner, she also deals with the issues of race, acknowledging the help her grandfather received from African Americans. While Stuckey’s was a southern business, it was never segregated. Stuckey’s even appeared in the “Green Books,” which told Black travelers safe places to eat and buy gas as they traveled across the Jim Crow South.  

This is a delightful read of a brave woman setting her own path in the world. 

Clare Frank, Burnt: A Memoir of Fighting Fire 

(Audible 2024) 11 hours and 43 minutes, narrated by the author.

I always shop the 2-for-1 sales on Audible. Generally, there is at least one book I’ve been wanting to read, and I will have to shop around for the second (free) book. That’s how I came across this book by Clare Frank. She’s the first (and so far, only) woman to serve as Chief of Cal Fire, the largest firefighting organization in the nation. Cal Fire handles large wildfires as well as providing fire protection in more urban parts of the state. 

Frank followed her brother into the fire service. She was only 17! Emancipated from her parents, she left her birthday blank on her application since the minimum age was 18. After doing well in her training, they offered her a seasonal position. From there, she rose up the ranks. Starting in 1982, just as women were beginning to become firefighters, she retired without ever having served under another woman. 

Her track is a little unusual. While working as a firefighter, she pieces together course work to obtain an associate degree. It takes her a longtime to finish her bachelor’s degree because of being deployed around the state. But she does. She also obtains a law degree, which becomes easier as she has infection in her feet after a fire along the Mexican border. She had to take a five-year break from firefighting because she couldn’t wear boots. When her feet recover, she resumes her career. With a law degree, she rises even higher in the ranks, leading the fight to recoup cost from utilities and others who have caused fires. 


The fire along the Mexican border is interesting. It’s the first time that the fire map only half covers the fire, as it was burning on both sides of the border. The fire also requires cooperation with the border patrol. Sadly, there were deaths within the fire of those trying to illegally enter the United States. 

I appreciated how Frank broke up her story. She jumps back and forth, from her last 22 months as chief of Fire Cal to her beginnings. This kept the book from being just a linear line of stories and built anticipation as she advanced through the ranks. Along the way, we learn about the tradition and the requirements of fire service. She tells of a few harrowing experiences, such a large multi-vehicle accident which killed several people and left one woman blind. This is one of the scenes she speaks of being engraved in her memory and she wonders about it being the last thing the woman saw before her world became blind. 

The stress which came from the horror sometimes experienced by first responders takes a toll on the relationships among firefighters. Many of the firefighters have gone through multiple divorces. The departments are not above scandal. She recalls wearing her dress uniform too many times at funerals for fellow firefighters. The last being a pilot of an air tanker which crashed around Yosemite a few months before she retired. Running such a large organization, she acknowledges that she had never met the pilot. Others she didn’t know also bothered her, such as the 19 Granite Mountain Hotshots killed on a fire in Arizona. This was a bit personal for me as one of those firefighters was a member of my church’s youth group when I was in Utah. 

While Frank mostly focuses on her work in firefighting, she also provides background to her personal life, from growing up, to her husband and dogs. This helped humanize her for in much of the book she came across as a “bad ass” who got things done.  But there are things left out such as how she became interested in writing, which she speaks of perusing in retirement. Her talent with words comes through in this book. 

Her story within the book ends with her and her husband retiring to Genoa, Nevada, where they experience the other side of the fire as they had to evacuate their new home. Thankfully, they didn’t lose their home, but the experience gives her the opportunity to close with a warning about how fire, as a part of nature, will continue to be a challenge. 

I enjoyed this book and recommended it. 

Jesus and divorce

Title slide showing Mayberry and Bluemont Churches in the fall

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry and Bluemont Churches
October 6, 2024
Mark 10:1-16

Sermon recorded at Bluemont on Friday, October 4, 2024

At the beginning of worship: 

We’ll begin this morning with an exercise. If able, stand up. I want you to greet those around you like this: “Good morning. My name is ________.  I’m a sinner. I’m a part of the problem. Thankfully, Jesus loves me and offers grace and forgiveness.” 

I had you do this exercise of admitting you’re a sinner and a part of the problem for a reason. It’s not to make you feel guilty, but to prepare you for the sermon. There are probably some of you here who don’t want to hear what I have to say. Because of my past, I’m not excited about preaching this sermon. But I committed myself to preaching through Mark’s gospel and here we are…  


Also, one thing setting Christianity apart from other faiths is our admittance that we’re a part of the problem. Only Jesus is sinless. The rest of us fall short, but because God is gracious, we have hope.[1] Ours is a faith of hope, not of casting blame on others for the problems in our lives and world. 

Before reading the Scripture:

There are a couple of things happening in the opening of Mark 10, which we’ll explore today. First, Jesus begins his journey toward Jerusalem. We’ve seen over the past few weeks Jesus twice tell the disciples that he’s heading to Jerusalem to die and to be raised from the dead.[2] The disciples don’t understand and are not overly receptive to what Jesus says.  

Next, Jesus teaches them about relationships. In verses 3 through 15, Jesus reminds us marriage is a blessing from God, and lifts children as a gift from God and worthy of his and our attention.   

Read Mark 10:1-16

Whenever someone tries to trick Jesus, we know to watch out. Jesus is quick and able to turn the table on those who use clever questions to discredit him. This happens here. Asking Jesus if it is lawful is essentially asking him if it is Biblical. The law was found in the Torah, in the opening books of our Old Testament.[3]

Divorce is addressed in the 24th chapter of Deuteronomy. The text speaks of a man giving his wife a certificate of divorce “because she does not please him because he has found something objectionable about her.” Obviously, at this time, there were no considerations given to women filing for divorce, only men. Since men taught the Torah, the law, it’s regrettable but understandable they interpreted things favorable to them. 

In Jesus’ day, there were several rabbinical schools of thought concerning marriage and divorce. Let me introduce three:

  1. The disciples of Shammai maintained a strict interpretation of the divorce law, emphasizing the objectionable clause and suggesting divorce could only be granted under the most serious circumstances, generally adultery. I think Jesus’ interpretation falls closest to this camp. 
  • A second interpretation was presented by Rabbi Hillel, one of the leading rabbis during the years right before Jesus’ coming. His followers were more liberal in their interpretation; emphasizing the idea of a woman not pleasing the man was reason enough for divorce. They suggested even minor indiscretions such as burning dinner could be grounds. Obviously, their interpretation failed to provide protection for a woman. But it got even worse.  
  • The followers of Rabbi Akibe suggested any reason could be used for a divorce, including finding a more attractive wife. In his thought, the woman doesn’t have to be at fault at all. The question asked by the Pharisees falls into this last interpretation of the law, “can a man divorce his wife for any reason.”[4]

Jesus asks them what Moses said and they quote from Deuteronomy 24: 1. Interestingly, Jesus exposes that this law doesn’t reflect God’s intention. Instead, God provided this law because of hardened hearts. 

Then Jesus recalls the account of creation from Genesis. There, the man and woman are created in the image of God as “male and female.”[5] Jesus affirms the God’s intention within God’s good creation. Men and women have been created to support of one another. 

Then Jesus moves to the second chapter of Genesis. There, marriage is interpreted in this manner, “For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife the two shall become one flesh.”[6] This is one place where I like the older translations better. The King James Version here reads that the man shall “cleave” to his wife. Cleaving implies an embrace or yoking together of two into one. Husband and wife work together as a team for common goals and ideals, both taking on a load and both encouraging the other. 

Finally, Jesus, tells his audience in verse 9, they must be careful not to separate what God has brought together.  

As we have seen before in Mark’s gospel, once Jesus and the disciples are back in the house where they were staying, the disciples ask for clarification.[7] Jesus interprets divorce and remarriage as adultery, whether done by the man or woman. In other words, divorce goes against God’s intention in creation. We should also remember that in the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus equates lust with adultery of the heart, which forces most all of us to acknowledge our sinfulness and to depend upon God’s mercy.[8]

Afterwards, it appears Jesus and the disciples are back outside with the crowd, with people bringing children to Jesus. The disciples don’t like this. Remember how I told you a few weeks ago, children in the first century didn’t have the same status as today. Jesus, however, elevates children and encouraged the disciples to welcome them, for in doing so they welcome him and the one who sent him.[9]

It doesn’t appear the disciples learned their lesson about what Jesus taught there, for now they stop people from bringing their children to Jesus. Perhaps the disciples rationalize their decision on the ongoing “adult conversation” on divorce. Jesus, however, intervenes and demands the children be invited in, reminding them one more time that the kingdom belongs to the likes of them, the children.

Children, as an example of what it takes to be received into the kingdom is the perfect wrap up to the divorce question. Children are totally dependent on others, just as we are totally dependent on Jesus.

In this passage, we see that the Pharisees want Jesus to draw a line, to interpret the law in a strict manner. Jesus responds first by recalling God’s intention for marriage. He recalls God’s grand plan as an ideal. The Pharisees, whose minds are so caught up in the letter and interpretation of the law, are unable to see what our Savior says. 

So, what is Jesus’ position on divorce? It’s safe to say, he doesn’t like it. However, as we know, marriages often end in divorce. If Jesus were here in person right now, would he be throwing stones?[10] I don’t think so. I think he’d be compassionate yet broken hearted at the way we treat relationships.

However, I also think he would be totally against the idea that men should control women as property, as was the case in the first century. With his teachings on divorce, Jesus raises the position of women for the time. He abolishes the double standard which existed and makes a case against polygamy.[11]

You know, happy marriages don’t often make the headlines.” We hear more about unhappy marriages, but at the same time we all know of marriages which are solid. Such examples provide an example for us. The key is commitment; to be committed and devoted to one’s spouse. Of course, that doesn’t mean it’s always going to be easy. 

Another tidbit of wisdom I’ve learned is that if there are never any struggles within a marriage, there’s probably just a lot of indifference…” It’s the commitment which helps us move beyond the struggles.

This passage shows us our need of God’s grace. According to Jesus, divorce and remarriage is a sin. But then, all of us have sinned and we will all sin again. Being divorced isn’t going to bar us from salvation, but it also doesn’t mean we can take divorce lightly. It’s a serious decision, for marriage is from God and who are we, mere mortals, to break such a bond? Yet, if we have broken such bonds, we can still rejoice for redemption available for those who are willing to confess their sinfulness and depend upon the mercy of Jesus Christ.

In this passage, we learn God desires for us to be in relationships. Marriage is a holy relationship, in which God plays a role by bringing together the couple. And children, who are also God’s blessings to parents, are precious to the community. They show us how we should approach our faith. 

In closing, let me quote from Doug Hare, one of my professors, who addresses Jesus’ intention for marriage this way: 

With Jesus, we affirm the Creator’s intention that marriage remains a lifelong commitment despite its inevitable frustrations. We acknowledge that in a sinful world this ideal, despite our prayers for grace, may often fail to attain. The ideal remains our lodestar.[12]   

Lifelong companionship of one man and one woman is God’s plan for us. That’s our loadstar, the ideal to which we’re to strive. However, just because we fail doesn’t mean we’re doomed. For all our life is covered by our Savior compassion. Amen.


[1] Romans 3:21-25. 

[2] Mark 8:31-32 and Mark 9:30-32. See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/08/25/who-do-you-say-that-i-am/ and https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/09/22/welcoming-the-vulnerable/

[3] Frederick Dale Bruner, The Churchbook: Matthew 13-28 (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2004), 249.

[4] This breakdown on views of divorce in 1st Century Palestine comes from Bruner, 249-250.

[5] Genesis 1:26-27.

[6] Genesis 2:24

[7] See Mark 4:10-11, 7:24, 9:28-29 and 33-35..

[8] Matthew 5:27-28

[9][9] Mark 9:37.  See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/09/22/welcoming-the-vulnerable/

[10] Death was the punishment for divorce and was carried out by stoning, but it appears to have been seldom carried out. See Leviticus 20:1, John 8ff, 2 Samuel 11ff. 

[11] Douglas R. A. Hare: Westminster Bible Commentary: Mark (Louisville, KY: WJKP, 1996), 120. 

[12]  Douglas R. A. Hare, Matthew: Interpretation, a Biblical Commentary for Teaching and Preaching, (Louisville: John Knox Press, 1992), 223.

Difficult Sayings of Jesus

Title slide with photo of two rock churches

I am supposed to be on vacation. The plan was to be in Pittsburgh, spending time at the Heinz museum, botanical gardens, the trolley museum in Washington, PA, Frank Lloyd Wright’s “Falling Waters,” and the Flight 93 monument. Hurricane Helene wasn’t in the plan. But that all changed. My replacement preacher for the morning lives along the New River, which is at a near record flood. She can’t leave her house and called me on Friday.

The storm changed tracks. We had high wind and lots of rain and the power was out for 36 hours, just coming back on yesterday evening. Many people are still without power. Thankfully, we’re all a lot better than those along the coast and in Western North Carolina and Eastern Tennessee. Our prayers go out for them.

So much for traveling. I sent word to JoAnn (the preacher who now lives on an inaccessible island), that I would pull out an old sermon and dust it off, since we weren’t going anywhere anyway… I first preached this sermon at First Presbyterian Church in Hastings, MI in 2006. Because of power failures, I do not have a video of the sermon, so you’ll just have to read it!

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry and Bluemont Churches
September 29, 2024
Mark 9:38-50

Comments at the beginning of worship:

Philip Gulley, a Quaker pastor, has a delightful book titled Front Porch Tales. In one story, tells about Doc Foster, a man in the town in which he was raised. Doc wasn’t a physician. He was the trash collector and the only black man in Gulley’s hometown.  

For a dollar a week, he pulled up at our curb in his pickup truck, climbed out, threw our trash in the back, and drove away.  If we forgot to set our trash out, he’d drive back to our barn and get it himself.  When he had a truck full, he’d drive out to the town dump on Twin Bridges Road, unload, wet his finger, and put it in the air; if the wind wasn’t blowing toward town, he’d commence to burning…  

Gulley goes on to tell of other “good deeds” done by Doc Foster such as helping college kids with their tuition so that there could be more teachers in the community.  He sums up Doc’s work this way:

When out-of-town visitors would compliment us on our town’s cleanliness, we would swell with pride as if we ourselves had swept up the trash the dogs had scattered. Doc did what all good people do—made the rest of us look better than we really were.[1]

I like Gulley’s definition of a good person, one who makes everyone else look better. That’s what we as Christians are to be about. 

Comments before reading the Scriptures:

We’re going to be looking at a couple of Jesus’ more difficult sayings this morning as we examine Mark 9:38-50.  Jesus has just intervened into the disciples’ dispute over just who was going to be greatest; remember Jesus was always saying that if they wanted to be great, they’d have to first become a servant. Then, holding a child, he tells them that in welcoming a child, they welcome him. It’s a message the disciples obviously have a hard time grasping, as we’ll see by what happens next.  

This is a difficult passage. It is the only passage in Mark’s gospel where Jesus mentions hellfire.[2] It’s important to note that hell isn’t for the unbeliever but the one who causes another to stumble. The passage appears to contain a patchwork of sayings, but the theme of the passage centers around humility and suffering demonstrated by word and deed.[3]

Read Mark 9:38-50

Twenty years ago, you may remember the shocking news out of Canyonlands National Park in Utah. A young solo hiker, Aron Ralston, whose arm had been trapped by a fallen boulder, saved himself by amputating his arm with his own pocketknife. He’d spent five days trapped in a three-foot slot canyon. With no hope of rescue and having run out of water; he felt he had no other option. Aron applied a tourniquet to this arm and performed the act. Then, with his good arm rigged up anchors and fixed a rope, he rappelled to the bottom of the canyon and hiked out. 

Aron was not the first to perform such drastic measures to survive. In 1993 a fisherman in Colorado cut off his leg at the knee after being trapped by two large boulders while fishing alone in a remote canyon stream. Yelling for hours, no one heard his cries. With the weather deteriorating, he used hemostats from his fishing kit. He closed the severed arteries and veins and crawled half a mile back to his truck.[4]  

Such incidents may cause us to wonder if we could do the same thing if in similar circumstances. Not long after Aron’s self-amputation, I was out visiting in Utah and went on an overnight backpack with Bruce, a friend through Ashdown Gorge Wilderness. My friend, an internal medicine physician, brought the topic up. Both of us have done a fair amount of solo hiking. “I don’t think I could do it,” Bruce said. I agreed, but then we both acknowledged such a position required drastic action. If you want to live, there may be no other choice.

And maybe that’s what Jesus is saying here. Sin, which leads to death, requires drastic action. Now I don’t think he means that we’re to cut off our hands or pluck out our eyes. After all, if you use such logic, that will mean that if your sin begins as a thought in your head, you should chop it off or at least sign up for a lobotomy. Obviously, Jesus’ intention isn’t to create a bunch of handicapped, self-mutilated Christians. That goes against Scripture’s teachings that our body is a temple in which we’re to invite God to dwell.[5]

Instead of taking this passage literally, we should figure out Jesus’ intention and what he’s trying to say.

Jesus uses outrageous examples to get his disciples attention and to force them to deal with their own sin and shortcomings. If we look at this passage, we’ll see Jesus extending charity to those considered “outsiders.” At the same time, he places a heavier burden on the “inside.”   Another way of getting at this comes from another of Jesus’ saying. Take the log out of your own eyes before you try to get a speck out of someone’s else’s.[6] Let me explain.

Our passage starts with the disciples trying to look good.  “Jesus,” John says, “we stopped this guy from using your name to expel demons. We knew he wasn’t one of us and he shouldn’t be doing that.” 

The disciples expect a pat on the back from Jesus. “Well done good and faithful servants,” they hope to hear, “you’ve saved my good name.” But that’s not what they hear. Instead, Jesus tells them not to stop the guy. The rationalization is that someone who does good in his name ain’t likely to start badmouthing him. “He’s an ally,” Jesus essentially says.

Then Jesus gives two examples. If someone gives you a cup of water in my name, you’ll know they’re on our side and that God will notice their good deed. But if you give a hard time to one of these believers, or as the more familiar translation has it, “if you put a stumbling block in front of a little one who believes in me,” it’d be better that a millstone be fashioned to your neck, and you be thrown into the sea. Such a dreadful experience might have been on the disciples’ minds, for we know that the Romans used millstones to drown their enemies.[7]

The resulting consequences of these two actions seem out of portion.  A cup of water gets a nod from God while tripping someone up (we’re not told that they fall, we’re just told that they are tripped) is so serious that we’d be better off dead.  Again, Jesus extends charity to those outside his inner circle while setting a tougher standard for those close to him.

Then Jesus gives a series of hyperbolic demands. These commands are outrageous. They’re given not as an absolute requirement, but to make a point that we need to be concerned with our sin. “If your hand or foot causes you trouble, cut it off.  If your eye distracts you, pluck it out.”  

In other words, sin requires serious attention. Don’t be worrying about who’s in and who’s out, Jesus says.  Don’t spend all your time worrying about the sins of others. Worry about yourself and what you can do to avoid sin. We can only change ourselves, we can’t change other folks, a lesson those of us who are married should have all learned by now, but the lesson doesn’t seem to sink in.  

Then Jesus closes this section reminding us that everyone will be going through the “refiner’s fire.” Take actions to preserve yourself and, interestingly, as verse 50 ends, “Preserve the peace.” Preserve yourself and preserve peace! And interesting way to end this set of troubling teachings, don’t you think?

Salt in the ancient world was one of the few preservatives available. Fire, on the other hand, as used by the prophets, purifies. The impurities burn away. Jesus says that we’ll be preserved, but our impurities (or sin) will be burned away. Jesus may have thought back on the temple sacrifice which required both salt and fire. Applying this to the disciples, the two symbolize the trials and cost of discipleship. [8]

There are two sides to this passage and if we consider both, we see that Jesus urges his followers to go easy on others and to be hard on ourselves. If we do that, we’ll avoid being hypocritical, a problem that all who strive to be religious are infected with at one point or another in our spiritual development. 

Let’s face it, churches must deal with hypocrisy. Sadly, you find it in our beloved rock churches. And every other church I know faces it. The problem extends, I believe, across the religious spectrum. When someone comes up with examples of hypocrisy in another church or even another religion, sometimes I want to laugh and ask, “Are we any better?”  

If we’re harder on ourselves than on others, we’ll less likely take a hypocritical stance. Then not only will we be humble, but the church will also look more like what it’s supposed to look like. In church, people should care for one another and strive, like old Doc Foster, to make others look good. 

Karl Barth, the great Swiss theologian, had a favorite story about a horseman who got lost in a snowstorm. Spurring his horse on, they galloped across a frozen lake.  Later, in the comfort and warmth and safety of a home, he learns of his fool-hearted actions, of how he ran across thin ice. The man breaks down in horror and fright. In a way, we’re like that. Only after we’re saved do we recognize our peril.[9]   

We should know the dangers. Maybe this is why Jesus presses harder on those close to him. We should know that sin leads to death, and that we’re all called to let our sins die on the cross as we accept God’s grace and love and forgiveness. 

So, when you sit down to examine sin, go harder on yourselves than on others. But in the end, remember that we have a Savior who died that we might live. That’s the good news. Amen.


[1] Philip Gulley, Front Porch Tales (HarperSanFrancisco, 2001), 31-33.

[2] Douglas R. A. Hare, Westminster Bible Companion: Mark (Louisville, KY: WJK, 1996), 116. Hare points out that there are other passages which speak of punishment (8:38), but only here does he speak of hel. 

[3] James R. Edwards, The Gospel of Mark (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2002), 282. 

[4] Information on these two stories from http://hike.mountainzone.com/2003/news/html/030502_amputate-arm.html.

[5] 1 Corinthians 6:19

[6] Matthew 7:3-5 and Luke 6:41-42.

[7] William L. Lane, The New International Commentary on the New Testament: The Gospel of Mark (Grand Rapids, Eerdmans, 1974), 346.

[8] Edwards, 295-6

[9] Story told by Ralph Wood in Flannery O’Connor and the Christ-haunted South (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2004), 152.