Arguing to Cover Up the Problem

Sermon cover title showing two rock churches

Jeff Garrison
Bluemont & Mayberry Churches
September 15, 2024
Mark 9:14-29

Before reading the scripture:

We return to Mark this week. If you remember, from two weeks ago, we left Jesus along with three of the disciples—Peter, James, and John—as they headed down mountain in search for the rest of the disciples.[1]

In our passage today, we learn the remaining nine disciples weren’t slacking while Jesus and his core group were on the mountain. Instead, they did ministry, which involved healings and casting out demons. It also included arguing with the Scribes. Somethings never change. As Jesus arrives, the nine are in a heated argument. This passage contains one of the most touching expressions of human ability and faith, with the man with a possessed boy crying out, “I believe, help my unbelief.”

Shortly afterwards, Jesus performs his last exorcism in Mark.[2]

Read Mark 9:14-29

I wonder what everyone argued about. We’re not really told. Yet, everyone seems glad Jesus has arrived. “Overcome with awe,” we’re told. Perhaps, as Jesus and three of the disciples have just come down from the Mount of Transfiguration, a glow still surrounds his face. Or, more likely, they’re just glad he’s there so he can settle their differences.[3]

Jesus asks, “what’s going on.” He doesn’t get the answer we expect. I don’t know why the nine disciples who’d remained behind didn’t just lay it all out for Jesus. They could set have forth both sides of the argument and let Jesus settle the issue. Maybe they were embarrassed. 

Or, perhaps this is one of those all-too frequent occasions where the real issue is something different than what the argument was about. This happens all the time, especially in relationships. You argue about one thing when you are mad about something else.


What’s at issue here is a possessed boy driven into fits and driving his parents insane. The boy needs help. We’re told the disciples, the nine who were not with Jesus, tried to free the boy from the demon. They failed. Some scribes were also at this gathering and, we might assume, likewise, were unable to help the boy. 

I have an idea what this argument was all about. Since neither the disciples nor the scribes can heal the boy, they distract the crowd by debating theology. It keeps both sides from looking bad. They argued over the nature of God, which is an important topic I think we’ll all agree. But while they argue, this kid rolls on the ground foaming at the mouth. Compassion must trump even correct theology. 

We’ve all been created in God’s image and given a dose of compassion. However, it seems as if those gathered around this boy have lost theirs. I have a hunch why they suddenly get quiet when Jesus asks what’s up. They know Jesus will see through the fog and get to the real issue—a child in need.

While the disciples, scribes and the crowd remain silent, a man in the back speaks up. “I brought my son to your disciples. They couldn’t rid his body of the demon.” The silence of the crowd and the plea of the father focus us on the real issue. Jesus is incensed. “How much longer,” he shouts, “do I have to put up with you?” Jesus directs his anger at the disciples, in other words at the ones who should know better. And you know what, we’re a lot like the disciples. If we can’t fix something, we create a distraction and/or blame someone else. 

Jesus then asks them to bring the boy to him. When the demon inside his body sees Jesus, it goes berserk. Even demons believe and tremble, we’re told.[4] The demon throws the child into a violent fit. The healing stories of Jesus are always more than just a demonstration of brute power overcoming illness and evil. If Jesus only wanted to demonstrate his power, he would have just said, “Get gone, you bad demon,” and the freed boy would run home to his momma. Instead, Jesus uses this opportunity to teach. 

This passage also reminds us that sometimes, the worst seems to come just before the healing. Kind of like the coldest part of the night falls just before dawn. Here, the demon throws the boy into an even more violent episode knowing it will soon to be expelled. 

As the boy shakes uncontrollably, Jesus asks the father about how long the boy has been like this. The desperate father tells Jesus the boy has been like this since childhood. A demon has tried continually to destroy the boy by throwing him into the fire and into bodies of water. Evil always brings destruction and death. 

Mark is the short gospel; often brief on the details. Interestingly, here, Mark provides more details than the other two gospels which also have this story. Mark recalls the conversation between Jesus and the boy’s father.[5] We get a sense of the father’s desperation. “If you are able, do something,” the father pleads.

This request takes Jesus back. “If I am able?” he asks. “If I am able?  Sure, I’m able; all things are possible with faith.” I wonder if the man’s faith had been challenged by the disciples’ inability to help his son. After all, he had obviously heard about Jesus and the twelve and felt if he could just get his son to them, he’d be made well. But then, it didn’t happen. 

The man assumed the disciples had the powers of their master and is now down to his last straw.  “Maybe Jesus can help,” he thinks, “but maybe not. I better not set my hopes too high.” 

When Jesus tells him that all things are possible for one who believes, he cries out, “I believe, help my unbelief.” This is the climax of the passage. “I believe, help my unbelief.” It’s a cry of desperation. He believes because he has no other option.  

He believes, but he stills harbors doubts. If we are honest, most of us identify with the man’s feelings. We know Jesus is the answer, but we don’t want to trust him enough to throw on him all our concerns. 

“Consider the lilies of the field and birds of the air,”[6] Jesus tells us. We’re quick to remind Jesus that we are not flowers or birds, but people, human beings, Homo sapiens, the crown of creation. We are people with jobs and homes and mortgages and car payments and kids with whom we have a hard time relating. Like I said, we’re like this man. We believe, but only to a certain point. We believe, but not fully. Where we get in trouble is our desire to keep some control for ourselves.

“I believe; help my unbelief.” This is an honest statement of our human condition. The ability to say “I believe” comes the grace God gives us to seek him out. The cry, “help my unbelief,” is a prayer of confession that demonstrates to God our dependence upon him. To say, “I believe,” isn’t enough. We can all say, “I believe,” and still believe it is something we do by ourselves. We can say “I believe,” and believe were in control. But when we say, “Help my unbelief,” we admit our need and dependence upon God. 

“Prayer is faith turned to God,” one theologian says.[7] The boy’s father turns to the only one who can help. This story is not about the boy’s father getting his theology right or anything like that. It’s about him completely trusting the Lord of the Universe, the one also provides us with the faith we need for such trust.[8]

It’s difficult to admit; but we can’t do it alone. Here, as we’ve seen before in Mark, when Jesus gets the disciples alone inside a house, he clarifies things.[9] This type of demon can only be driven out by prayer, Jesus says. 

Oddly, Mark doesn’t spend as much time discussing prayer as the other gospels. But he wants his readers to know that strength lies in them trusting God, as seen through Jesus.[10] Overcoming the powers of evil is not something we do by ourselves. That’s why Jesus came, as we’ve seen earlier in Mark, to bind the “strong man.”[11] Only by depending upon God can we be truly successful, for only God can help us overcome to power of evil.  

This passage reminds us that we’re not God. We don’t run the company, and we’re not the CEO. Jesus is in control and we’re here to do his work. We depend on him and his power as we listen to the cries of those in pain. We listen and reach out with compassion and love, doing what we can to help and praying for help when needed. Amen.


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

[2] Douglas R. A. Hare, Westminster Bible Companion: Mark (Louisville: W/JKP, 1996), 109.

[3]Interestingly, the crowd is in awe before Jesus heals! See Morna D. Hooker, The Gospel According to Saint Mark (London: A & C Black, 1991, Hendrickson Publishing, 1997), 222-223. More likely they were in awe of Jesus’ past healings as the glow would have quickly faded and if not, why would Jesus want to keep the transfiguration a secret? See Mark 9:9 and James R. Edwards, The Gospel According to Mark (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002), 276. 

[4] James 2:19

[5] Matthew 17:14-21 and Luke 9:37-43. 

[6] Matthew 6:25-28.

[7] W. Grundmann, as quoted in Edwards, 281. 

[8] See the sermon on this passage by Fleming Rutledge in Help My Unbelief: 20th Anniversary Edition (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2000), 9.  

[9] Mark 4:1-2, 10; 7:14, 28; 10:1, 10. See Edwards 281.

[10] Mark only speaks of prayer in three other places.  Mark 1:35, 6:46, and 14:32-39. See Edwards, 281. 

[11] Mark 3:27. See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/04/07/the-unpardonable-sin-baseball-doing-the-will-of-god/  

Riding the Greenbrier River Trail with my Brother

title slide with photo of me and my brother on bikes
former railroad crossing in Clover Lick
former RR crossings in Clover Lick

In 1899, the C & O railroad began building a line running north alongside the Greenbrier River to tap into the rich timberlands of West Virginia. The next year, the railroad reached Cass, 80 miles north of the mainline which cut through White Sulfur Springs and Lewisburg. A few years later, the line continued north until it connected to the Western Maryland. The Greenbrier division consisted of a little over 100 miles, most of which was along the river. Of course, the success in cutting the timber led to the demise of the railroad.

By 1920, most of the virgin timber in the lower section had been cut and the line began to financially struggle. But it kept going, providing an outlet to the larger world for communities in Greenbrier and Pocahontas County such as Anthony, Spring Creek, Beard, Hillsboro, Seebert, Marlinton, Clover Lick, and Cass. Except for Marlinton, which is the seat of government for Pocahontas County, most of these communities today are a shell of their former selves. 

a radio telescope at Green Banks Observatory
Green Banks Observatory (one of several large antennas)

One of the more interesting pieces of freight for the railroad were sections of a large antenna for the Green Bank Observatory. This observatory has several radio telescopes, including the largest radio telescope which can track a point in space. Because of the sensitive antennas, the area is in a radio restrictive zone. This limits the height of antennas and the power of transmitters. If you visit Green Bank Observatory, you had to turn your cell phones off! Much of the area along the rail trail has no cell phone service and there is limited radio stations cover the area. The designer of the antenna had a mockup built to ensure it could be transported to near Green Bank, as it had to pass through two tunnels. 

Passenger service along this branch of the C&O ended in 1958. In the late 1970s, freight traffic, which had dwindled to a weekly run, ended and the tracks removed. As the logging company which owned Cass Railroad had done when it closed in 1960, the C&O turned 80 miles of the right of way over to the state. The Cass Railroad is operated as a tourist train state park 

A Cass railroad Shay engine
A Cass “Shay” locomotive

Today, the old railroad bed is a trail is a linear park enjoyed by hikers, bicycles, and horses. Adjacent to the trail are several other state parks: Cass Scenic Railroad, Watoga, Droop Mountain Battlefield, and Beartown. Additional land is held by both state forest and the Monongahela National Forest. These parks and forest provide ample opportunity for camping or staying in cabins, many of which were built by the Civilian Conversation Corps during the Depression. 

Cass West Virginia
Monday mornings were quiet in Cass

This past Sunday, my brother and I headed up to a cabin in Watoga State Park. We spent Monday and Tuesday riding 60 miles of the Greenbrier River Trail, from Cass to Spring Creek. We had two idea days to ride. Both mornings, we left the cabin with temperatures in the 30s, but my mid-day we were in t-shirts. 

Trestle at Sharp Tunne
Trestle at Sharp Tunnel

We started at Cass, at the northern end of the trail and road south. Highlights included the town of Clover Lick, which has one of the few remaining stations (others are in Cass and Marlinton.  14 miles south of Cass, we passed through the Sharp Tunnel, which exits on a trestle, taking us to the east side of the river. Below the trestle were ropes hanging from a river birch. I could imagine on warmer days, children swinging out into the river. Nearby were some camps with fire rings that may have seen a few hobos in earlier days. 

my brother and I at Sharp Tunnel
With my brother at Sharp Tunnel
Marlinton
My brother in Marlinton

Just before you get into Marlinton, there was an old water tower, the only one which remains on the river trail. In Marlinton, there is a bike repair stand, which allowed me to put my bike up and adjust the gear changing lever. While I had enough tools with me, the stand also had such tools attached to a cable (so they’d remain for other bikers in need of a repair). We ate our picnic lunch at a table along the trail in Marlinton. 

After Marlinton, we had about 12 more miles to ride before we arrived at Seebert. I had left my vehicle there, so we loaded up our bikes and drove back to Cass to pick up my brother’s vehicle. Afterwards, on the way back to Watoga, we stopped again in Marlinton for dinner at the Greenbrier Grille and Lodge. If I had known they had rooms, I might have stayed here. Then we could brag about staying at the Greenbrier (there is another 5-star Greenbrier in White Sulfur Springs, a place visited by 28 Presidents).  

plate of the "West Virginia Original"
West Virginia Original

We ate outside on the porch overlooking the Greenbrier and a hoard of ducks waiting to be fed scraps. They had a meal titled “The West Virginia Original” and is probably not on the menu at the other “Greenbrier.” But as we were there, we had to try it. There were lots of fried potatoes, along with kielbasa sausage, sautéed onions and mushrooms. It was served in a cast iron frying pan and included sides (I got pinto beans and cole slaw), and a slice of cornbread. I downed it with a local IPA. 

photos of cabin in Watoga State Park
Outside Droop Mt. Tunnel
me at Droop Mountain Tunnel

We decided not to try to ride the rest of the trail on Tuesday. We both had places to be on Wednesday. After shuttling cars, we rode our bikes to Spring Creek. This section passed a state prison, the Droop Mountain tunnel along with idyllic scenery of hayfields being cut and baled. The Droop Mountain tunnel runs under the site of a Civlil War battle up on the mountain . We finished up and had the cars shuttled by mid-afternoon, said our goodbyes and headed toward our respective homes. It had been a good trip and was nice to catch up with my brother in person for the first time since our father’s death.

I planned to stop at the Pearl Buck’s birthplace at Hillsboro on my way home. Buck was a missionary to China and a wonderful author. Her book on China (The Good Earth) won the Pulitzer Prize. She also wrote another good book on Korea titled The Living Reed. Sadly, the place was closed. This is the third time I have tried to stop there, and it seems to always be closed. So I drove on home. 

Lunch spot along the river
Tuesday Lunch Spot
Leaving Droop Mt. Tunnel

Mayberry’s Anniversary Service

Blog title with drawing of Mayberry Church
Sermon recorded at Mayberry on Friday, September 6, 2024

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry Presbyterian Church Anniversary Service

Acts 21:1-17
September 8, 2024

At the beginning of worship:

100 years is a long time. It was the roaring twenties. I’m sure it didn’t feel that way here along the Blue Ridge. The boom the area felt with the building of the dams along the Dan River and the Blue Ridge Parkway were still a decade away. The chestnut trees were dying, a blight which wiped out roughly 20% of the trees of the forest. The loss of chestnuts was a disaster. The nuts fed hogs and were collected as a cash crop so those living in New York City could enjoy “chestnuts roasting on an open fire.” 

Rev. Robert (Bob) Childress
The Rev. Robert (Bob) Childress as a seminary student. From “A Man Who Moved a Mountain”

100 years ago, it might not have been the best time to start a church in Mayberry. But there were those with a vision. The brush arbor, which I spoke of in my sermon last week,[1] had been used for revivals in this area since the Second Great Awakening at the beginning of the 19th Century. The Reverend Roy Smith held such services and brought along a promising ministerial student named Bob Childress. They organized a Sunday School. Then they organized a church. And twice a month, as a seminary student, Bob drove his Model T from Union Seminary in Richmond to Mayberry.[2] Just thinking about that journey makes my back ache. 

But here we are today, celebrating, and giving thanks for those who came before us. 

Before reading of scripture:

I’m not going to preach from Mark this week but will return to the gospel next week. Instead, let’s look at a passage from the Acts of the Apostles. 

Cover photo of "The Man Who Moved a Mountain"

The second half of Acts is often overlooked. The lectionary skips almost all of it, but there are memorable stories in this section, as memorable as those about Bob Childress in The Man Who Moved a Mountain. The last third of Acts is about Paul and his journeys, including his last one to Rome. 

Today, the text takes us on a long journey, from modern day Turkey to the Phoenicia shores. Luke, who in addition to writing the gospel, also wrote Acts, provides unique details. He even mentions unloading the cargo of the ship. When Paul last traveled to Jerusalem, his journey from Ephesus to Jerusalem took just two sentences.[3] Here, Luke slows down and provides detail. He shows Paul’s determination to go to Jerusalem despite the danger. 

As Paul travels, he stays with believers along the way which provide us with an insight into first century hospitality and what it means to be on a Christian journey. Such hospitality was still around in 1924, when Bob Childress made that drive from Richmond and stayed with Abe Webb, who’d wait up for him and had heated bricks and irons to toss into his bed so he might warm up from the cold trip as he slept.[4]

Read Acts 21:1-17

It seems like a long time ago. It was before COVID. In 2018. I attended the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church in St. Louis. Afterwards, I rented a car and drove to Iowa City, to attend a session on writing humor at the Iowa Summer Writing Festival. Coming back to St. Louis, to turn in the rental car and catch a flight home, I had an extra day. This allowed me the luxury of taking the backroads, catching up with a friend, and checking out sights. 

trains in Ft. Madison, Iowa
trains move through Ft. Madison, Iowa

My plan was to cross over the Mississippi, from Iowa to Illinois, at Fort Madison. A major rail town, it’s where the old the Santa Fe line, from Chicago to Los Angeles, crosses the river. Knowing I would see plenty of trains along with barges on the Mississippi, I stopped at the old Santa Fe depot, which is now a local museum. There, I talked to an old railroad passing time watching trains. Before retirement, he worked for the Santa Fe and knew something about the railroad. 

As I arrived, trains stopped. The bridge opened, so they had to wait. A large set of barges came out under the bridge. When the bridge closed, the trains began to move. But then they stopped again. And there was a large container train made its way through the other trains, just booking it. The retired railroad guy identified the fast train as a land-bridge express. This train hauls containers from Las Angeles to ports on the East Coast. There, the containers are reloaded onto ships for Europe. These containers don’t go through customs and are sealed for the entire journey. Who knew! 

One of my metaphors for the Christian journey I have used before is of a train on a transcontinental journey. Every ten hours or so, the train stops, and one crew gets off while another takes over. Each crew has their own run and responsibility. The guy at the throttle, who waved to us before he crossed the Mississippi, never saw the train being formed by the Pacific nor watched its containers loaded onto a ship on the Atlantic. His job was to move the train safely from point A, probably somewhere in Iowa, to point B in Illinois or Indiana. The engineer trusts that other engineers will see the train to its destination.

When it comes to the church, our task is to faithfully move the church a little further down the line. The church, as well as us as individuals, are on a journey. We are thankful and indebted to those in the past who help bring the church up to the present. And we must trust God to supply others to lead the church after we’re gone and have been promoted to the church triumphant. 

Journey has always been a popular theme within Christianity. From the early days, there were those who went on pilgrimages. These were journeys designed to draw people into a closer relationship with God. According to Dante, pilgrimages required “the challenge of distance and a sense of being a stranger in a strange land.”[5]

While pilgrimages fell out of favor with the early Protestant movement, the Puritan John Bunyan brought it back, at least metaphorically. 

Bunyan describes our entire lives as a pilgrimage. Pilgrim’s Progress is his allegorical tale. His protagonist, Christian (what a convenient name), dreams of a journey from this world to the next. Christian lived in the City of Destruction, but his journey takes him to the Celestial City on Mount Zion. Bunyan reminds us that our ultimate citizenship isn’t to this world, but to God’s kingdom. Like Dante said, we’re strangers to this world. In this fashion, we’re all pilgrims.

Paul, in our passage this morning, has the same sort of feelings. He makes the journey because the Spirit compiles him, even though others warn him of danger. As he makes his way from Asia-minor to Jerusalem, Paul’s encounters echo many things Luke has already told us in his gospel and in the Acts of the Apostles.[6]

In Caesarea, Paul stays with Philip, the evangelist, and one of the seven original deacons called to the task early in the book of Acts. As a deacon, Philip assignment included the task of seeing that the needs of all the members of the Way, especially the vulnerable such as widows, are fed and cared for. [7]

Interestingly, one of the other original deacons was Stephen. It was at Stephen’s stoning that we first hear of Saul, later known to us as Paul.[8] He was on the other side at this point, ready to persecute those who followed Jesus. Paul, who watched with approval the killing of Philip’s co-worker, has now become friends with Philip. Following Jesus should do this, bring together those who were enemies.  

Philip has four daughters, all prophets, which reminds us of Peter’s sermon on Pentecost when he quotes Joel about sons and daughters prophesying.[9] When Paul first set out for Damascus, his mission was to bind up the Christians in Syria and lead them back to Jerusalem for trial.[10] Now Agabus, another prophet, shows Paul how this will be reversed as Paul is bound and taken away. 

Furthermore, the warnings Paul receives are akin to the warnings Jesus gives the disciples about going to Jerusalem.[11] For Paul, like Jesus, as we’ve been seen lately in my sermons on Mark, Jerusalem is a dangerous place.[12]  

Despite the warnings, Paul feels complied by God’s Spirit to go to Jerusalem, just as Jesus felt complied to go there. It doesn’t seem as if Paul fully knows fully what’s ahead. He doesn’t die in Jerusalem, but he was prepared to die. However, Paul’s ministry takes a significant twist in Jerusalem, as he is taken from there, as a prisoner, to Rome. 

I’ve heard it said that when Christians are willing to die for the gospel, the gospel can’t be stopped. Paul knows he’s involved with a movement larger than himself. Even Bob Childress, who faced down drunks with guns, experienced danger.[13] But Bob and Paul knew their first loyalty is to Jesus Christ and to go where Jesus wants them to go.

There are three highlights from this passage I’d like to offer. First, Paul enjoys the fellowship of believers wherever he goes. When Paul enters a town, the first thing he does is to seek out Christians and he delights in their company.  And today, this congregation still enjoys being in fellowship with each other. (I should cut this sermon a bit so we can get to the waiting food). 

Second, they pray together. When Paul departs Tyre, everyone got on their knees on the beach. In the sharing of hospitality and prayer, both parties are blessed through what they give and receive. The Christian life is of both giving and receiving, of blessings and being a blessing.

The Childress family had such a blessing from prayer one of the years when Bob was in seminary. They were out of funds. It was going to be a bleak Christmas, but a physician in Danville, who had heard Bob preach, felt compelled to send him $300, a lot of money in the mid-1920s. It turned out to be a good Christmas with presents and food.[14]

The third thing: Paul knows imprisonment and perhaps death lies ahead. But he does not fear it. Paul no longer sees himself as a free man. Paul accepts his role as a prisoner of God’s Spirit. He’s a slave to Christ. Even though there are storm clouds ahead, Paul continues because he knows he’s doing what God wills. In the same way, Bob Childress forged ahead at Mayberry because he knew he was doing God’s work. 

You know, everyone has troubles. When we feel we are a part of God’s team, we can endure the pain because we know we are not alone. Our purpose is larger than ourselves. It’s no longer about Paul. It’s about what God will do.

These three highlights we can take from Paul’s journey: fellowship, prayer, and focusing on something larger than ourselves. There’s joy from fellowship with other believers. When we pray together, we connect with our Heavenly Father and one another. And finally, we realize our efforts are just a small part of what’s God’s Spirit is doing in the world. We must be faithful and trust God’s Spirit to take care of the rest. 

Remember that train rushing from one coast to another. We have our own section of rail for which we’re responsible. As the old gospel song goes, “We must keep our hand upon the throttle and our eyes upon the rail.”[15] It’s not about us, it’s about God’s mission.  Amen. 


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

[2] Richard C. Davids, The Man Who Moved a Mountain, (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1972), 71. 

[3] Acts 18:21-22, Beverly Roberts Gaventa, Acts (Nashville: Abingdon, 2003), 291.

[4] Davids, 69-70.

[5] Lisa Deam, 3000 Miles to Jesus: Pilgrimage as a Way of Life for Spiritual Seekers (Minneapolis: Broadleaf Books, 2021), 11. 

[6] Gaventa, 292. 

[7] Acts 6:1-6.

[8] Acts 7:58.

[9] Acts 2:17, Joel 2:28.

[10] Acts 9:2.

[11] Luke 9:22, 44

[12] In Mark 8:31, Jesus tells the disciples for the first of three times of his upcoming death. See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/08/25/who-do-you-say-that-i-am/

[13] Davids, 65.

[14] Davids, 72-73. 

[15] Charles Tillman, “Life is Like a Mountain Railway.”

The Box (and Sunday School discipline)

title slide showing the box and several of the books it contains

A few years ago, my father gave me a wooden box designed to hold important papers. Originally, it belonged to my father’s great-grandfather, Duncan James McKenzie. It was passed down to my great-grandfather Daniel Kenneth McKenzie, then to my grandmother, who gave it to my father. I have written about my great grandmother before: Aunt Callie’s Place and about her death when I was seven.

The box contained some old prayer books and hymnals that go back into the early 19th Century. Also in the box was my great-grandfather’s Book of Church Order from the 1940s.  My grandmother stored in the box a number of photos (see above). She also added several things relating to me including a copy of my graduation from seminary, an article of mine published in the Presbyterian Survey, and a bulletin from a time I preached at Culdee Presbyterian Church in January 1994. This is the church where I was baptized on Easter Sunday 1957 and where she was a member for ninety years. My grandmother joined the church at the unusual age of eight, and once told me about her conviction to join and meeting with the ministers and elders. 

I recently read through some of these prayer books as I looked for prayers to use for the 100th Anniversary Service at Mayberry Presbyterian Church. In Prayers Suitable for Children and Sunday Schools published in Philadelphia by the American Sunday School Union in 1831, I came across a “Sabbath-school Prayer on dismissing a Scholar for Ill-Conduct.”

While this prayer won’t make it into the service this week, I found myself wondering if Samuel Clemens (Mark Twain) may have been the recipient of such a prayer. After all, Twain supposedly credited the Presbyterian Church for teaching him to “fear God and dread Sunday School.” And this prayer book was published just before Twain’s birth in 1835.

Here’s the prayer: 

Great and holy God, who art angry with the wicked every day, we should feel sorrow for the scholar whose evil conduct has caused his being turned out of this school. Thou knowest that he has been warned and reproved; that he has been often forgiven, and kindly entreated to cease to do evil and learn to do well, but all in vain. Thou hast said to them who desire to walk in Thy ways, “come out from among the wicked, and be ye separate.” It is right then that we should be separated from this wicked boy: but, O Lord, who art acquainted with all our ways, suffer us not proudly to think that we are righteous and may despise him. May we remember that “all have sinned and come short of the glory of God.” May we feel that we have no merits of our own to boast of, and must all suffer the everlasting punishment of the wicked, unless we are saved through the righteousness of Jesus Christ. O grant that we, and this disgraced boy, may repent of all our sins, and be forgiven. May his disgrace and punishment be the means of leading him, and us, to think with fear of the threatening in Thy word that “the wicked shall be turned into hell,” and all who forget God. This is a fearful sentence; but, O merciful Lord, there are gracious promises in Thy word, as well as awful threatenings. We read there, “Let the wicked forsake his ways, and the unrighteous man his thoughts, and let him return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him, and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon.” O, by thy grace, merciful Father, soften the heart of this obstinate boy into repentance. O help him to forsake his evil ways and turn unto Thee, and to do Thou, according to Thy promises, abundantly pardon him, for the sake of Jesus Christ, and grant that he may soon, with a changed heart, return like a stray sheep to this fold again. May we all be warned by his punishment, and fear to follow his example. Let us not repay the kindness of our teachers with disobedience and ingratitude. O forbid that we should be so thankless to Thee and to them, for Sabbath-school instruction, but may we receive it gratefully and attentively, and learning more and more of Thy holy word, take it for a guide in all our conduct. We would again plead with Thee, merciful Father, for him, and grant that he may be “one sinner that repenteth.” Over whom angels in heaven rejoice. Hear our prayer, and grant it, merciful God, for the sake of Jesus Christ, who came into the world to save penitent sinners. Amen. 

Boy, that’s a long paragraph! Italics (which is loss in making this a quote) was used for the male pronoun, which I supposed could alert the prayer to change to a female pronoun if the offender was a girl. Of course, that probably seldom happened! 

Thankfully, this disclaimer was attached to the prayer: 

“The dismission of a scholar from a Sunday-school, as a matter of discipline, is to be applied only in an extreme case. The danger of driving an ill-disposed child from the influence of the school is great; perseverance in kind and affectionate treatment may reclaim him.” 

Growing up, I remember the Sunday School Superintendent (does anyone use those titles today?) had a desk in the mechanical room of the church. Mr. Howard, a pharmacist in the church, was the superintendent. I was threatened to be sent to his office (like the principal’s office), but the only time I remember going there was to drop off the attendance roll and the class offerings. Maybe the threat was enough to keep me in line. 

The box with photos of some of the books it contains
The box with some of its content. The open music book was a tutor for teaching music. The book on top without a title was the prayer book published in 1831. The red book beside it was published in 1907.

The Transfiguration

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry & Bluemont Churches
September 1, 2024
Mark 9:1-13

Sermon recorded at Mayberry Presbyterian Church on Friday, August 30, 2024.

At the beginning of worship

About the time I was baptized at Culdee Presbyterian Church on Easter Sunday 1957, a man named Thomas Scott Cadden in Stokie, Illinois crafted the theme song for Mr. Clean. The next year, the song appeared in a commercial with a beefy baldheaded man in a white t-shirt and a golden earring. Proctor and Gamble discovered a winning combination. Was Mr. Clean a sailor? Or a genie? One could make a case for both, but whatever his background, he was known for wiping away grime and making things dazzle. 

Mr. Clean gets rid of dirt and grime and grease in just a minute!
Mr. Clean will clean your whole house and everything that’s in it!
Floors, doors, walls, halls, white sidewall tires, and old golf balls!
Sinks, stoves, bathtubs he’ll do, he’ll even help clean laundry too![1]

Most of us have depended on Mr. Clean products during our lifetime, but if you really want to dazzle, baptism is the way to go. Only Jesus can really clean away the grease and grime of sin. In today’s passage, like three of the disciples, we’ll get a glimpse of the glory that comes from being made dazzling clean. 

Before reading the Scripture

I’m preaching on the Transfiguration today. When I have preached on the transfiguration in the past, it was because I was following the lectionary. This passage appears with minor differences in all three of the synoptic gospels. And it always comes up in the lectionary just before Lent. In the past, I had to force myself to preach on the passage. I’ve wondered what the big deal was about it.

But by working through Mark’s gospel, chapter by chapter, verse by verse, I find the passage to be more compelling. When it comes up in the lectionary, the passage sits out by itself.[2] But by working through the gospel, we get to see it in context. Last week, we heard Peter profess Jesus to be the Messiah. Afterwards, Jesus begins to focus on heading to Jerusalem where he will be executed. The disciples, thinking as any human, don’t like this idea. What good is a dead Messiah? Besides, as we’ll see today, they have no frame of reference to understand Jesus’ resurrection.

In today’s text, after a phrase that just seems to hang out there in verse 1, Jesus provides three of the disciples a glimpse of his glory. Of course, they are not to share this experience until after Jesus’ resurrection. 

There’s a lot of unanswered questions in this text. How did the disciples know it was Moses and Elijah with Jesus? And what does their presence mean? Let’s see if we might find out.

Read Mark 9:1-13

Jesus, in the first chapter of the gospel of Mark, proclaims the kingdom of God has come near.[3] Jesus in verse 1 of today’s text speaks about those not dying until the kingdom of God come with power. This confusing verse has created lots of debate. Some, interpreting it to mean the kingdom coming at the end of the age, wonder if Jesus didn’t get it right. After all, everyone alive in roughly 30 AM have long been dead. 

I think Jesus refers to his resurrection, not to the end of history. And many, actually most, of those who followed Jesus would still be alive for his resurrection.[4] This also fits into the upcoming story of the transfiguration. In fact, this sentence in all three gospel accounts precede the transfiguration.[5] Knowing this, we can understand the Transfiguration as a foretaste of the kingdom for those disciples closest to Jesus. 

The disciples are privy with the knowledge that Jesus is more than just a miracle worker traveling around doing good. Jesus comes with divine purposes that the disciples don’t fully understand. They don’t even seem to understand what happened on the mountain that day, but at least they know there is something special about Jesus. 

This passage follows a similar trajectory to the story of Moses on the mountain in Exodus 24. In both, there is a wait of six days. Mark doesn’t put much emphasize on numbers,[6] but for some reason mentions six days passing between their time in Caesarea Philip and their climb up the mountain. These days makes it harder to pinpoint which mountain they were on. 

Traditionally, Mount Tabor is considered the mountain of transfiguration, but it’s not a high mountain and it was inhabited in the first century. So, it wasn’t a place where they could be by themselves. But they could have walked there within a few days. Mount Hermon is another option. It dominates the landscape around Caesarea Philippi. The disciples could have waited in the mountain’s shadow for a few days. But we really don’t know which mountain this took place. 

It’s obvious Jesus takes the three disciples away privately. He has something important to show them and doesn’t want the others to catch a glimpse of the glory to be revealed. 

They head up on a high mountain. Mountains in scripture play an important role in revelation. Abraham takes Issac to the mountain where he learns much about God providing the sacrifice.[7] Moses encounters God at the burning bush, which changes the trajectory of his life.[8] Elijah, whom these disciples also meet, found solace in the mountains.[9] And now three of the disciples find themselves along with Jesus on the mountain with Moses and Elijah. 

Jesus and friends appear as if they’ve been bleached out by Mr. Clean. We don’t know how the disciples know it’s Moses and Elijah, but maybe it was from what they discussed with Jesus. Or maybe Moses had some tablets and Elijah the reins of a chariot. However they knew, the disciples are stunned.

Peter must say something. That’s his nature. He’s impulsive.[10]He immediately suggests setting up some tents. These were probably more like a brush arbor which was used even early in Mayberry’s history, than a canvas pup tent. It would be a place for the three of them to rest out of the sun. Peter, also, I think, wants to hold onto this moment. But he speaks without thinking. After all, what did Peter and the disciples have which these “spirit-like figures” need? 

Peter still doesn’t get Jesus. The idea of three identical brush arbors, like they’d build during the feast of the tabernacle,[11]shows his thinking is tied to the past. He essentially suggests Jesus is on the same level as Moses and Elijah. But that’s not the way it goes. That’s, as I said last week, putting new wine into old wineskins.[12] While Moses and Elijah are important, their importance are not equal to Christ.

Soon after Peter’s silly remarks, a cloud sweeps over the mountain. They no longer can see. I’m sure many of us upon the mountain have experience how things can go from being clear to foggy in a minute. But then the cloud blows away. Only Jesus remains. The experience is over; it’s time to hike down the mountain and rejoin the other disciples. 

Along the way down, Jesus tells them to keep this a secret until after he has risen from the dead. This led to an almost comical discussion about Elijah’s coming (or return). Not knowing what Jesus was referring, they change the subject to ask about Elijah. And Jesus speaks about his on upcoming passion, before he lets them in on a secret, Elijah has already come. Here, Jesus probably refers to John the Baptist. 

In this closing discussion, the disciples are lost because nothing has prepared them to understand that the Messiah or Elijah would have to suffer. Yet, they learn both are destined to suffer. John the Baptist has already been beheaded. In the first century, suffering wasn’t seen as redemptive for Jews. You strove to avoid suffering. And here’s Jesus telling them that the path the Messiah walks leads to the cross.[13] We’re like the disciples here. We can’t imagine suffering leading to redemption. It’s not what we think winning looks like. 

This passage leaves us with more questions than answers. Maybe that’s on purpose. After all, the future is not in our hands. We trust and put our faith in God. God is in control. We have no assurance the future will work out in a manner we desire. Certainly, the disciples didn’t think Elijah and the Messiah were destined for death in the short run. Our only hope is that in the end, God will be victorious and those who have faith in God’s Son will reign with him. The transfiguration remains as a mystery pointing to the glory to come. And with that, there’s hope. Amen. 


[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mr._Clean  

[2] The one other time I preached on the Transfiguration while at Mayberry and Bluemont was when working through the middle portion of Luke’s gospel. There, I had a little different take on the passage. See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2022/08/14/5953/

[3] Mark 1:15. 

[4] James R. Edwards, The Gospel According to Mark (Grand Rapids; Eerdmans, 2002), 260. 

[5] See also Matthew 16:28-17:8 and Luke 9:27-36. 

[6] Edwards, 262.

[7] Genesis 22:1-19.

[8] Exodus3:1-12.

[9] 1 Kings 19:8-9.

[10] We see Peter’s impulsiveness during Jesus’ passion. Peter pledges loyalty to Jesus, then denies him. See Mark 14:29-31 and 66-72. 

[11] The feasts of the tabernacle or booths is set forth in Deuteronomy 16:13-17. During this time, Jewish men would flood into the temple at Jerusalem and would build “booths” in which to shelter themselves. 

[12] https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/08/25/who-do-you-say-that-i-am/

[13] Douglas R. A. Hare, Westminster Bible Companion: Mark (Louisville, KY: W/JKP, 1996), 107.

Cloud covering Buffalo mountain early in the morning
A cloud covering Buffalo Mountain early in the morning