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.

Welcoming the vulnerable

sermon. title cover

Jeff Garrison
Bluemont and Mayberry Church
September 22, 2024
Mark 9:30-37

Sermon taped at Mayberry on Friday, September 20, 2024

At the beginning of worship: 

Ever been caught by an embarrassing question? The type that, if answered honestly, is incriminating? 

In the ninth grade, I fell asleep one afternoon. It was after lunch and was warm in a building without air conditioned. In the middle of a dream, somewhere in the twilight zone, I heard the teacher call on me. This teacher knew the tricks. She asked her question first, then called my name. When I jumped to attention it was too late. “I don’t understand what you’re asking,” I replied, reaching for a reprieve. She was on to me. “Admit it, Mr. Garrison,” she said in an accusatory voice, “You were sleeping.” Yes madam, I’m sorry.” I tried to sound contrite. 

Have you ever been there? Put on a spot. Maybe your parents asked if you completed your homework before you went out to play. Or, with the blue lights flashing, a police officer asked how fast you were going. Of your boss asked if you’ve finished a job that should have completed hours earlier. We’ve all have had embarrassing questions. And it was no different for the disciples. 

But we shouldn’t forget, there may be embarrassing questions coming at the final judgment. Will we be asked about mistreating others who we perceive as different or below us? Or, will we be asked to justify snide remarks we made or an offensive meme we’re dropped onto social media? Such behavior should call forth not just confession, but also repentance. Jesus, as we’ll see today, has a higher expectation of us. 

Before the reading of Scripture: 

In our reading today, we hear for the second time Jesus predict his death and resurrection. There are three such predictions in Mark’s gospel. All three follow a predictable pattern. As soon as Jesus makes the prediction, the disciples go off on a tangent showing their lack of understanding. At the first prediction, Peter challenges Jesus’ idea of the Messiah suffering.[1] Here, all the disciples seem complicit. In the last prediction, James and John beg for an honored place.[2]

Read Mark 9:30-37

Jesus and his disciples head south, through Galilee, toward Capernaum. Along the dusty road, Jesus again talks about his upcoming passion—his betrayal, suffering, death, and resurrection. The confused disciples don’t know what to say. 

Imagine them walking, kicking up stones. Soon they change the conversation and focus on their dreams. This was their first mistake. They’re to be following Jesus, not their own goals. 

In their dreams, they see themselves in the limelight as Jesus takes his rightful place on the throne of David. They envision riding in chariots, wonderful homecomings, and standing beside Jesus in his glory. And then it hits them… not all of them could be in seated at Jesus’ right side. There could only be one prime minister, one foreign minister, and so on. 

Or maybe they ponder who will take over when Jesus travels. Who’ll be assigned as “vice-messiah’? Who will Jesus choose as his right-hand man? Who’s done the best work and thereby earned a place of honor? The disciples seem to have included a bunch of type A personalities, guys who believe in themselves. Or at least they believe in themselves when there are no challenges. After all, all of them are a bit shaky in their faith. Here, safe on the path, an argument ensues as they each advance accolades as to why they are so good. They all want to be king of the hill, or at least right next to King Jesus on his hill.

I wonder where Jesus was during this conversation. Perhaps he was walking behind, chuckling with amusements, as adults often do when listening to kids trying to outshine each other. Or maybe he was up ahead, leading the way and could hear the disturbance behind him. Wherever he was, he waits till they reached their destination before commenting. 

Arriving at Capernaum, they entered the house. If you remember, the house in Capernaum served as a home base for Jesus. This will be his last time we’re told of him being there.[3] Also, remember how in Mark, Jesus private teachings are often inside.[4] This way, the disciples are away from the public. It’s a good trait, for they won’t be embarrassed. Jesus asks about their argument. 

Silence. No one answers. Perhaps they fear Jesus’ wrath. Jesus, however, knows the details of their argument and proceeds to teach. 

“Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all,” he begins. Sounds familiar? It should, this is one of Jesus’ most favorite lines. With slight modification it appears six times in the synoptic gospels—that’s twice each—Matthew, Mark, and Luke.[5] Repetition, like this, implies importance.  

Certainly, we all know this teaching from Jesus, yet it’s one we probably ignore because we don’t know what to do with it. After all, shouldn’t we honor those who strive to be the best and not a servant? 

Most people don’t harbor desires of being a servant. Neither did the disciples. They wanted to be great. The Twelve weren’t interested in being a servant nor becoming a martyr, even though they’ll all get the chance to serve, and several ended up dying for Jesus. 

Jesus then employs an object lesson. He calls over a kid. Holding the child in his arms, he tells the disciples they must be able to welcome a child, for in doing so they welcome him, and by doing that they welcome the one who sent Jesus, our Father in heaven.

There is a different understanding of and appreciation for children in our society than there was in the first century. Children today aren’t only loved. They often become the focal point for the parents. They’re doted on. Think about it. If you have kids, what percentage of your conversations with your spouse focuses on your children. I bet it’s significant. The adage that children are to be seen and not heard went out the window generations ago. Today, we see and hear children. But it wasn’t that way in Jesus’ day.[6]

In the first century, children had a lesser role. They were seen as property, as slaves. Paul reminds us of this in Galatians.[7] I know some of us thought we were slaves when we had to mow the lawn, but that’s beside the point. 

In another way, children were the parent’s social security system. The reason to have a mess of kids was to have someone to look after you. Another reason was the infant mortality rate. One estimate is that ½ of the children died before they reached their 16th birthday. Such a statistic discouraged parents from becoming overly attached. If you had a bunch of kids, you can’t worry too much about the sick one…

Now, Jesus’ teachings here aren’t anything new. The Hebrew Scriptures contain similar concerns. They were to take special care of the widows, orphans, and foreigners—in other worlds, those who didn’t have the means to care for themselves.[8]

Somewhere I read that one good way to judge a nation, or a group of people, is by how they treat the lowest members of their society. If they are honored and cared for, it’s probably a good place to live. On the other hand, if the poor and defenseless find themselves trampled upon, it’s a society everyone will have to watch their backs. If we evaluated our nation by such standards, what grade would we receive?

Jesus models servanthood. He informs his disciples that, like him, they must be servants in the world. We must show hospitality to all, even to children who at the time would have had no status. Yet the disciples have a hard time understanding Jesus’ message. 

In the next chapter, we’ll see that children brought to Jesus were being sent away. Our Savior doubled down, telling the disciples that if they couldn’t be like a child, they couldn’t enter the kingdom.[9] In other words, the disciples must be childlike, a humbling proposition to a society where children were not afformed much protection. 

The disciples argued over who was the greatest and we, in our own way, may argue the same. But let’s be clear, striving to be our best doesn’t upset Jesus. It’s the concern with being the greatest, as if we’re in some kind of competition with others for the position of honor. Such competition of leads to a willingness to walk over others. It’ll get us in trouble. 

Such an attitude causes us to see the world not as a gift for all to enjoy but as something solely for our own profit. The book of James tells us such desires lead to conflicts and disputes.[10] Certainly, a few people excel in such an environment. Those who do are often bullies and become steamrollers. They make few real friends. But if we set our sights on being a faithful disciple, willing to serve others, we might surprise ourselves as we rise toward the top. 

Successful businesses know this. They focus on serving their customers. The customer comes first. Christians are to be no different. We’re called by God into the church to serve God’s customers, the people of the world. There’s a lot of hurting people out there, and they need to be loved, to feel important, and to know someone cares for them. 

The last point I’d like to make this morning is that being a servant doesn’t just apply to our personal lives. It also applies to the church. When we, as a Christian community, are hospitable, caring for folks and reaching out to others, we will become more attractive to the community. Hospitality is contagious and needed in our world today.

Have you fulfilled Jesus’ calling to be a servant. It’s not too late to start. Begin now. Look around. Find someone who needs a friend. Seek out people different from you, especially those others marginalize. Try to meet them. Greet them in a manner which they feel cared for. Advocate for their needs. 

Remember, our faith is based on relationships. Because of the relationship we have with God, showing us his love through his Son, we can respond by being in relationship with others. In doing so, we share and model our Father’s love. Amen.  


[1] Mark 8:27-33.  See also https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/08/25/who-do-you-say-that-i-am/

[2] Mark 10:32-38.

[3] After this passage, Mark doesn’t even mention Galilee until after the resurrection. James R. Edwards, The Gospel According to Mark (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2002), 283. 

[4] Edwards, 285. 

[5] Matthew 20:26-27, 23:11-12; Mark  9:35, 10:43-44; and Luke 9:48 and 22:26. 

[6] See Edwards, 287-288. 

[7] See Galatians 4:1. 

[8] See Deuteronomy 10:17-19, 14:29, 24:19-22, and 27:19. 

[9] Mark 10:13-16.

[10] James 4:1.

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/  

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

Who do you say that I am?

title slide with photo of two churches

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry & Bluemont Presbyterian Churches
August 28, 2024
Mark 8:27-38

Sermon recorded at Bluemont on Friday, August 23, 2024

At the beginning of worship: 

Do you recall the old bumper sticker which read, “God is my copilot”? Did any of you have one on your car? Well, I hate to tell you this, it’s wrong. God, through Christ, should be our pilot. At best, we get to serve as a flight attendant. By the way, someone later corrected the theology of that bumper sticker with another one which read, “If God is your co-pilot, switch seats.”

Here’s the question for us to ponder this morning. Are we willing to get out of the pilot seat and turn the cockpit over to Jesus? 

Before Reading the Scriptures:

As we’ve seen, the first half of Mark’s gospel focuses on Jesus’ preaching and teaching, his healings and exorcisms as he travels the countryside. Anticipation builds as to Jesus’ identity. While Mark identifies Jesus at the very beginning of his gospel, this was information for the reader to tuck away.[1] The disciples are not privy to it. 

There have been those who have hinted of Jesus’ identity throughout the first half of the gospel, but not the disciples, nor do the religious leaders of the day understand.[2] Jarius with his dead daughter, the unclean woman who touched Jesus’ robe, and the Syrophoenician woman have a sense of Jesus’ powers. But do they even know his identity? The only ones who seem to get it are the demons, whom Jesus quickly quietens.[3]

In this passage, the major turning point of Mark’s gospel, Peter confesses Jesus is the Messiah. Our passage shows both sides of Peter. He gets it right and then finds himself rebuked. For Peter, this is personal and a little embarrassing. Some scholars think Peter served as one of Mark’s sources.[4] If so, it’s to Peter’s credit for in these verses we see both the honor and shame of the Apostle. 

From this point on in Mark’s gospel, Jesus focuses on his upcoming passion, his suffering and death. Peter, however, doesn’t want to hear any such talk. Jesus shatters his image of the Messiah. Yet, despite this, Jesus sticks with Peter. Let’s listen. 

Read Mark 8:27-9:1

We all want to be like Jesus, right? We’re in church so I expect your answer to be in the affirmative. But do we really want to be like Jesus? And if we’re sincere, do we have what it takes? Peter must have thought he had what it took. After all, he’s the one who hits the nail on the head, boldly proclaiming that Jesus is the Messiah. This is the apex of Jesus’ ministry in Mark’s gospel. Peter reveals Jesus’ true identity. 

Jesus and the disciples take a long walk north of Bethsaida.[5] As they enter Gentile territory, Jesus asks who people say he is. Leaders should ask such questions to understand their effectiveness. It’s part of being emotionally intelligent. We need such input. It helps us fine tune our way of relating with others.[6]  

And the disciples give Jesus some wonderful news. People have a high opinion of Jesus. Some say he’s John the Baptist (which would require a resurrection as Herod had him beheaded). Or Elijah or another prophet of old. Elijah seems to have been popular in First Century Judaism since he didn’t die but was swept away in a chariot of fire.[7] The Jews hoped he’d come back and set wrongs right.[8]

People think highly of Jesus, it appears. But being ranked up there with great men of the past denies Jesus’ uniqueness. He’s being placed into old categories, or to use one of Jesus’ parables, they put the new into old wineskins.[9]

Jesus then turns the table on the disciples, by asking them who they say he is. Ultimately, the gospel turns on our decision as to Jesus’ identity. Peter nails it. “You are the Messiah.” 

As he’s done many times in Mark’s story, Jesus tells them not to tell anyone. Jesus wants people to come to this conclusion themselves. Then he begins to talk about what’s ahead. And Peter, who wants Jesus to be a tough superhero, can’t bear it. Peter envisions the Messiah restoring Israel to her rightful prominence. He can’t handle this talk of death. 

Jesus then does something that catches everyone off guard. Turning to Peter, he rebukes him, “Get behind me, Satan.” In a matter of minutes, Peter goes from being on Cloud Nine to having his parade rained out. Jesus calls Peter, the guy who has been beside Jesus for some time, Satan. Jesus goes on to show Peter his fault. The Rock, as his name implies,[10] thinks like any other man. His thought process is no different than yours and mine or any other human.

Jesus’ plans don’t make sense to our way of thinking. We understand power. Like Peter, we could understand if Jesus picked up a sword and lead a campaign again the Romans. But that doesn’t happen. God’s ways are not our ways. With God, the weak and the meek inherit the earth.[11] But face it, that’s not the way things generally work out. 

At least Peter’s rebuke was in a semi-private setting with just the disciples and there off in Gentile territory. After these words, Jesus calls the crowd over and continues to teach. “If you want to be my followers,” he says, “you’re going to have to pick up your cross.” 

I envision those following Jesus being a troubled by what they heard. These are the hardcore supporters, who followed Jesus to Caesarea Philippi, a long day hike from where Jesus had set off.[12] These are the groupies who’ve taken off work to follow Jesus for a few days and now they’re in a town named after the Roman Emperor (who they hope to overthrow). Hearing Jesus talk some kind of nonsense about picking up a cross, I’m sure, caused some of them to say, “I’m out of here.” They know what it means; they’d seen those who had taken up arms against Rome wither on the cross.   

The late Will Campbell, an ordained Southern Baptist who referred to himself as a bootleg preacher, criticized the American church for teaching essentially, “Pick up you cross and relax.”[13]We’ve sanitized the cross to the point that it is safe to wear as jewelry. 

When Jesus says, “Pick up your cross,” he provides a vivid analogy. Rome freely employed the cross to terrorize slaves and residents of conquered lands. The cross was the ultimate deterrent—you challenge Rome, and you pay dearly. Those Galileans following Jesus may have seen it in action. They lived in a brutal world. When Jesus talks about crosses, they don’t have any romantic allusions to some fashion accessory.  

Bearing our cross is often used to express the difficulties we experience in life. But even here, we must be careful not to trivialize the cross. Jesus doesn’t refer the troubles we all experience. Instead, picking up the cross refers to the shame we may experience by placing Jesus above all our loyalties.[14] The cross was considered shameful. Loving the unloved of the world may also be considered shameful to those in power. But we must love because God, through Jesus, first loved us.

Jesus then continues with one of his paradoxical proverbs: “Those who want to save their life will lose it and those who lose their life for my sake and for the sake of the gospel will save it.” One commentator puts it this way: “To lose one’s life is to lose one’s physical existence, but to lose one’s soul has eternal consequences.”[15]

Where are our commitments? Are we committed first and foremost to our Savior Jesus Christ? Do we love him and those he loves?

This passage implies the possibility of martyrdom, not an option any of us would willingly choose. Yet, when we accept Christ’s call, according to Paul, our old-selves die as we receive new life in Christ.[16] In a spiritual sense, we all die as we leave our past behind and seek to become more Christ-like.    

Is Christ calling us to face martyrdom as this passage is sometimes interpreted? We don’t think about martyrs much anymore, do we? 

Brian Blount, a New Testament scholar, dedicated a good portion of his academic life to Mark’s gospel of Mark. Brian suggests that martyrdom isn’t exactly what our Lord calls us to. Instead, he’s calling us to be his followers. We’re to join him on “the way” as outlined in Jesus’ teachings. It’s the way of healing, of confronting the demons of the world, of being merciful and proclaiming God’s kingdom. All disciples are called to share in this work. 

We’re to follow Jesus, doing what he commands, which doesn’t necessarily mean death (even though it’s always a remote possibility). After all, aligning ourselves with Christ means we shun the values of the world.[17] This can be threatening. However, the most any worldly power can do is to kill us. However, as disciples, we don’t live for today.[18] We live for eternity. In the everlasting realms, the powers on earth are weak.

This understanding of picking up your cross as a call to follow Christ helps us make sense out of Jesus’ rebuke of Peter. “Get behind me, Satan,” is a command for Peter to take his rightful place as a follower. Peter, here, tempts Christ to deviate from his mission. As a tempter, Peter does the work of Satan, hence the reference. 

Do we want to be like Jesus? Then we must follow him, which requires love and commitment. We dedicate ourselves to something bigger than us. We put away our worldly ways of thinking. Unlike Peter, we conform our mind to the mind of Christ. We can’t try to change Christ mind to reflect our values. That’s playing the role of Satan, the tempter. Instead, we put Jesus and his kingdom first in our lives. 

Do we want to be like Jesus?  It is a difficult road. Love can be demanding. But remember, the rewards are eternal. Amen.


[1] Mark identifies Jesus as “the Son of God” in Mark 1:1. In 1:11, God also calls Jesus “my Son, the Beloved.” 

[2] Several of those whom Jesus helps understands Jesus’ power (and possibility) such as Jairus, the unclean woman, and the Syrophoenician woman

[3] Mark 1:25, 3:11, and 5:7.  See James R. Edwards, The Gospel According to Mark (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002), 245. 

[4] Edwards, 255. 

[5] We last saw Jesus in Bethsaida, Mark 8:22.  See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/08/18/open-our-eyes/

[6] Daniel Goleman has written extensively on Emotional Intelligence and the need for “360 Feedback”.  See Daniel Goleman, Emotional Intelligence: Why it can Matter More than IQ (1995). 

[7] 2 Kings 2:1-12.

[8][8] Edwards, 247.

[9] Mark 2:21-22.  See Edwards 257-248. 

[10] Matthew 16:18.

[11] Matthew 5:5

[12] Jesus was last at Bethsaida (Mark 8:22), roughly 25 miles due south of Caesarea Philippi, where he healed the blind man. See Edwards, 245 and https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/08/18/open-our-eyes/

[13] Will D. Campbell, Souls among Lions (Louisville; Westminster/John Knox press, 1999), 37.

[14] Douglas R. A. Hare, Westminster Bible Companion: Mark (Louisville: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1996), 102. 

[15][15] Edwards, 257.

[16] Romans 6:1-6.

[17] Brian K. Blount, Go Preach!  Mark’s Kingdom Message and the Black Church Today (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, 1998).  See especially Chapter 9.

[18] Matthew 10:18, Luke 12:4.

Open Our Eyes

Title slide with photos of the two churches

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry and Bluemont Churches
August 18, 2024
Mark 8:22-25

At the beginning of worship: 

How do you see the world? Are you an optimist who sees this glass as half full?  Or are you a pessimistic who sees it as half empty? 

As Christians, we should see the world differently. We have hope. Sadly, there is much in our world to fear. And if someone can make us afraid, we’ll often do things we’d never do in a rational world. This is the foundation of our consumer society and of most political campaigns. We do things or support candidates because we think they’re the answer to our problems. 

This even true in the church. From some pulpits, you’ll hear more about the problems of society and how the cultural war is out to destroy the church that the teachings of Jesus.[1] It’s a call to fight back. But those of us who follow Jesus know he has our back. The Jesus we know from Scripture doesn’t issue such calls.  

Using fear to motivate misses the good news of the gospel. One of the most heard passages in scripture is “Fear not!” We shouldn’t fear for we know where our treasure resides. We shouldn’t fear because we know who is in charge. We shouldn’t fear for we know how the story will end!

Jesus proclaimed the gates of hell won’t prevail against his church.[2] Jesus is the one who protects his church, not us. Now that doesn’t mean we can do what we want, but it does mean our loyalty is to him and we need to keep our focus not on the world but on him. The world, we’re told, is going to always have problems until it is brought into full redemption. Wars and rumors of wars, Jesus says.[3] We know how the story ends. The ending provides the foundation for our hope. 

We need new eyes, hopeful eyes. And Jesus has the power to restore our sight in such a manner, as we’ll see this morning. 

Before reading the Scriptures:

Last Sunday, if you remember, Jesus was a bit upset with the disciples. “Do you have eyes and fail to see?” He asked. They were all concerned with not having lunch as they sailed, once again, on the lake. We can imagine them almost pointing fingers at one another, blaming others for their lack of bread. And when Jesus began to talk metaphorically about yeast, they assumed it had to do with their argument about the lack of bread. Because you need yeast to make bread, they put the two together.

Today, we’ll see that following this discussion about their “blindness,” a blind man’s sight is restored. This is not a haphazard healing. Jesus makes a deeper point than just healing a man. He shows that he is the one who can, as the old hymn goes, “open our eyes, that we might see.”[4]

Our story today has a parallel healing which we’ve already explored. In the 7th Chapter, Jesus heals a man who was deaf and dumb, giving him back his hearing and his speech.[5] There are many similarities between these two passages. First, these are the only two miracles we find only in Mark and not in Matthew and/or Luke. Another similarity are the phrases used. The suffering man is “brought” to Jesus. His friends “beg” Jesus to lay on his hands or touch him. He takes both men away from the crowds to a private place. 

This passage ends the first half of Mark’s gospel. We’ve seen how Jesus is God with power over evil and the forces of nature, along with the ability to heal, raise the dead, and cast out demons. We also see that Jesus is the Messiah, the one who does things like feeding the hungry, giving sight to the blind and hearing to the deaf. Next week, we’ll see the disciples begin to understand Jesus. As they do, Jesus sets his face toward Jerusalem where he will go to die and to be raised on the third day. 

Read Mark 8:22-25

We’ve last seen Jesus and the disciples in a boat, sailing across the Sea of Galilee. In today’s story, we’ve learned they have sailed to the north end of the Sea, at the point the Jordan River enters the top of the sea, at Bethsaida. There, a blind man is brought to Jesus. His friends beg Jesus to touch the man, obviously seeking his healing. 

Let me point out one thing here. If we are not in need of having our vision corrected by Jesus, we should be the friends of the blindman. We can’t save anyone, but we can bring those in need of salvation to Jesus Christ, as the friends of his man did. 


Now, for some reason, Jesus decides to heal in private. He leads the man outside the village. As it was with the healing of the deaf man, Jesus uses salvia on his eyes, before touching them. When he removes his hands, he asks the man if he can see. 

The man gives what I can a most interesting response. “I see people like walking trees.” Obviously, this man wasn’t born blind, if he could differentiate between trees and people. But he still isn’t seeing clearly. 

Jesus then lays his hands again on the man, then asking again if he can see. How he sees perfectly.  Jesus sends him away, telling him to go home and not through the village. Jesus obviously doesn’t want the word to get out that he’s in town. 

There are a few unique things about this miracle which may help us better interpret the passage. First, nothing gets said about the man’s faith. The woman who reached out in faith to touch Jesus’ garment in to be healed is told by our Savior, “Woman, your faith has made you well.”[6] When he heals the Syrophoenician’s daughter, it was because of the mother’s faith.[7] But with this man, we’re told nothing about of his faith. He’s just a man in need and Jesus heals him. 

Second, this is the only miracle in which Jesus heals in stages. Other healings occur in an instant. But not here. It’s almost as if Jesus was an optometrist. You know, you’re looking into the machine. The eye doctor asks, “How’s that?” And from your answer, the doctor manipulates the lens on the machine a bit and asks again. In the optometrist’s office, this exchange continues until the doctor gets the prescription for the glasses just right. 

A lot has been made as to why Jesus didn’t get it right the first time. Maybe Jesus shows we’ll gradually gain sight. Our eyes, when it comes to faith, increasingly open. None of us are like Paul with a Damascus Road experience. Outside of a very few, like Paul and Moses, that’s not how God works even in scripture. As we come to faith, our eyes gradually open more and more to what God is doing in our lives and in our world. 

Cover of "Pilgrim at Tinker Creek"

When I set out to complete the Appalachian Trail, hiking from Virginia to Maine in one summer, I carried one book for each section of the trail. The first book was Annie Dillard’s, Pilgrim at Tinkers Creek. It was the perfect book, as Dillard writes about discovering nature by looking, not at the larger vistas, but at the small things. Insects, bugs, frogs, things often overlooked. Dillard showed their amazing lives and how they fit into the larger world. When I’d break by a stream or a spring, I’d be on the lookout to the wonders Dillard described.

As a follower of Jesus, we need that same kind of wonder. When we look at a problem in society, we shouldn’t just complain and shake our heads. We should look for those who survive despite the difficulties, those who help others, those who show the light of Christ. As Mr. Rogers said when discussing disasters such as 911, look for the heroes, those who run toward the danger to help others. Those are the ones who have faith and who demonstrate a Christ-like obedience. 

And if we truly believe, when we see a problem in which we can help, we should jump forward. For we know that whatever happens to us, God is in control. While the present may look bleak, the future will be bright. Our eyes will be fully open, and we will see God, face to face. 

So next time you look at a glass like this, consider it half full. Have faith, for in the end, things will work out. 

We’re called to follow Jesus. As followers, we’re not to get too down about the things of the world. Instead, we’re to store up our treasure in heaven.[8] After all, we are only temporary citizens of this world. Our kingdom is of another world, an eternal one. And that should give us hope. Amen. 

Commentaries Consulted:

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

Hare, Douglas R. A., Westminster Bible Companion:      Mark (Louisville, KY: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1996).

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

Lane, William L., The Gospel of Mark (Grand Rapids, Eerdmans, 1972). 


[1] I was reminded of this recently while reading Tim Alberta, The Kingdom, the Power, and the Glory: American Evangelicals in an Age of Extremism ((Harper, 2024).  See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/08/15/two-book-reviews/

[2] Matthew 16:18. Many translations, including the NRSV and NIV, use hades instead of hell. Most paraphrase translations including the Message and the New Living Bible use hell.  

[3] Matthew 24:6, Mark 13:7

[4] This popular hymn is found in over 200 hymnals. Clara H. Scott (1841-1897) wrote the lyrics and the music for “Open My Eyes” 

[5] Mark 7:31-37.  See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/07/28/open-our-ears-that-we-might-hear/

[6] Mark 5:25-34. See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/06/09/7247/

[7] Mark 7:24-30. See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/07/21/crumbs-for-the-dogs/

[8] Matthew 6:20.

Faith requires understanding

Title slide with photos of Mayberry and Bluemont Churches

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry and Bluemont Churches
August 11, 2024
Mark 8:11-21

Sermon recorded at Bluemont on Friday, August 9, 2024

At the beginning of worship: 

When I worked in the bakery, Sunday was a day of production. We made the bread, starting right after midnight Saturday and throughout the day. This was so the bread could be delivered to our trucks on Sunday night and then into the stores first thing on Monday. 

When I was a young supervisor, we had a problem one Sunday afternoon. The bread rose nicely in the proof box, where some 4,000 loaves waited for the oven. But then, as the pans left the proof box and moved across a conveyor to the oven, the dough dropped. This wasn’t good. I started checking everything and having my mixer operator test and record even more frequently than normal. My first thought was something happened to a brew, which would mean we’d lose 3,000 loaves of bread.

But nothing seemed out of normal. At first, I assumed the mixer operator left out something. I watched the clock, waiting for things to return to normal. After 45 minutes, I stood by the proof box, waiting. But things didn’t improve. At this point, I called the plant manager and the maintenance engineer in on their days off. They came in and alerted the general manager and the bakery owners. Soon, we were having a pow-wow, trying to figure out what was going on. Hour after hour, we produced loaves barely an inch tall. It all ended up wasted. 

We tried everything and nothing worked. Finally, we tried setting up new brews in the fermentation tanks and pulled all new ingredients from a different batch of materials. After tossing roughly six hours of production out the door, 24,000 loaves, things returned to normal. I was scared that I might be fired, as I had no idea what was wrong. But then, neither did anyone else. 

We collected samples to be sent to a lab. A few days later, we got the report back. I and the mixer operator were vindicated. The salt we used, which included the enrichment for the flour, had three times the amount of iron than required.[1] The overly machined bread couldn’t handle the excess iron. The enrichment, which we went back to adding ourselves, was to blame. 

When we added the enrichment ourselves, the mixer operator took a half dozen capsules and dissolve them in a two-cup container of water. Then he poured it into the brew base that went into 3,000 loaves. Think about how small of an amount—six capsules, weighing maybe 2 ounces, could ruin so much dough. [2]

Jesus warns us to watch out for evil. It doesn’t take much (like a bit of yeast to make a loaf or a little too much enrichment to flatten one), to send us down the wrong road. We must be careful. 

Before reading the Scripture: 

In our passage today, Mark doesn’t provide us much context except that it occurs at the stop after the feeding of the 4,000 which we explored last Sunday. And the conversation with the disciples builds upon the topic of bread. But first, there’s an exchange between Jesus and the Pharisees.

We have already seen conflicts between Jesus and the Pharisees. Our passage begins with another one. But we’re not just shown how those in opposition to Jesus are on the other side, they also include those following Jesus. No one seems to “understand” who Jesus is. Mark builds up to the climax of his book, which-God willing-I plan for us to explore in two weeks.[3]


Let me say a bit about yeast. It comes up in this story and is essential for bread. Yeast in a Biblical sense was mostly used as a metaphor for evil. That is certainly seen in the Old Testament, but also in Jesus’ teachings.[4] However, Jesus also refers to yeast in a positive manner—as an example of the kingdom—in Matthew’s gospel.[5] But here, Jesus speaks of the corruption effect of yeast. 

Read Mark 8:11-21

Our text begins with the Pharisees again trying to test Jesus. The word used for test isn’t about discovering Jesus’ competency. This isn’t an IQ test or the SAT. Instead, it means they’re trying to trip Jesus up, to get him to say something they can use against him. 

Today, this seems to be the strategy of politicians on both sides of the aisle. If you can get a sound clip of your opponent saying something you can use against them, you have a winning strategy. 

The word used here for “test” implies a stumbling block or an obstacle that they are laying down before Jesus. Mark uses this same word to describe the devil tempting Jesus in the wilderness.[6]

As a part of their test, or their attempt to trick Jesus, they demand a sign from heaven. Essentially, they want insight into Jesus’ authority.[7] It’s not a miracle they’re asking for. There’s been plenty of miracles and it would be odd that they wouldn’t have heard about the feeding of the 5,000 and the 4,000. In addition, most likely they have heard the reports of Jesus’ healings and other miracles. Is Jesus’ power from God or from a more sinister source?

In a way, this passage picks up the argument Jesus had with the scribes from Jerusalem back in Mark 3, where they accused his powers to be from Beelzebul or the ruler of the demons.[8] If you remember back that far, Jesus speaks of the one plundering the “strong man’s house,” must first “tie him up.” By confronting evil powers in the world, that’s what Jesus is doing. He binds the “strong man,” Satan, so that he can rescue us. 

But Jesus, who comes in weakness, requires those who desire freedom to accept him by faith. But that’s hard. The Pharisees can’t seem to accept it, nor can the disciples as we’ll see in a minute. I also suggest that we, too, have a problem with accepting such grace. We want to be in control of our destinies, and along comes Jesus who says, “Follow me,” “Trust me,” “Believe in me.” It all goes against our grain. 


I am looking forward to reading a book that has just been published this past week. Daniel Silliman has written a religious biography of Richard Nixon, titled One Lost Soul: Richard Nixon’s Search for Salvation. I have read several reviews of the book, which sounds interesting.[9]

My friend, Robert, in Utah, who’s read almost every biography of Nixon, is also interested. We have agreed to read the book at the same time and discuss it. I’m still waiting on my copy to arrive. Robert lives in Salt Lake City. His copy arrived this past week, the day the book was released. Living in a rural setting, my copy won’t arrive until the middle of next week. But it’ll get here.  

From the reviews I’ve read, Silliman interprets Nixon as a man who tries to justify himself. Nixon is unable to accept grace. He feels he must earn approval. This idea of just trusting Jesus is hard. The Pharisees had a difficult time with it, as did the disciples, as did Nixon, and as do most of us. As I said, such trust goes against our grain. We feel we should be able to do whatever required to save ourselves, but that’s not the case. 

Jesus cuts the Pharisees off by saying that his generation will not be given any signs. Then he gets in the boat with the disciples, and they sail away, leaving the Pharisees to ponder what it all means. 

On the boat, and if you have noticed, sailing and rowing seems to be a major way of transportation in Mark’s gospel, we get into the second half of our story. The disciples now realize someone forgot to pack lunch! There’s only one loaf (and back then loaves weren’t that large). They’re blaming each other when Jesus steps in an warns them about the yeast of the Pharisees and of Herod. 

As we’ve seen throughout Mark’s gospel, the disciples are clueless. Jesus obviously refers to his recent encounter with the Pharisee’s, warning the disciples about how they and Herod could corrupt them. But they think Jesus mentioning yeast because of their comments on the lack of bread. 

The disciples are a lot like us. They think everything is about them. Jesus speaks of yeast, they immediately think “it’s because we’re talking about bread!” Jesus nips this conversation in the bud, as he asks if they still don’t understand despite all they’ve seen. Jesus recalls the two feeding stories and asks them how much food was left over. The disciples remember correctly, but still don’t seem to get Jesus. 

I don’t think the point of this passage is that Jesus can divide the bread and feed everyone, which obviously he could do. Instead, it’s more about their trust of Jesus. Do they know who he is, what he can do. Or are they still lost. Or, as Jesus asks at the end of this passage, do they still not understand? Faith, as we see here, isn’t done blindly. It requires understanding.

There is a parallel between this sailing trip up the lake and the Hebrew people in the Wilderness. Despite all God did for them, they Israelites had a hard time trusting God. It’s why they spent so much of the time in the wilderness.[10] God wanted to teach them to trust in his providence, but they kept forgetting about God’s gracious care. 

When difficulties arise in our lives, are we not the same way? Do we not worry, thinking that we’re in over our head, not trusting God’s presence to get us through? If we can control things, we don’t have a need for faith. But we also don’t have a need for God. However, Jesus came to show the Father and invites us to trust him, through the good and the bad. Such faith requires us to have our eyes opened, which will be further explored in next week’s sermon. 

Jesus is the Savior. We should place our faith in him. He is the one we should trust. If you don’t know him, ask him to open your eyes and ears, that you might believe. Amen.


[1] This is because most bakeries figure one pound of salt for every hundred pounds of flour. Adding the enrichment with the salt was supposed to be easier on the operators.

[2] I told this story earlier in my blog. See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2021/07/01/another-bakery-story-the-perils-of-working-on-the-christian-sabbath/

[3] Mark’s climax is generally understood to be Peter’s Confession in Mark 8:29.

[4] Morna D. Hooker, The Gospel According to Saint Mark (1991, Hendrickson Publishing, 1997), 194.

[5] Matthew 13:33. 

[6] Mark 1:13. See James R. Edwards, The Gospel According to Mark (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2002), 235. 

[7] Hooker, 191.

[8] Mark 3:20-27.  See also https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/04/07/the-unpardonable-sin-baseball-doing-the-will-of-god/

[9] See https://currentpub.com/2024/08/08/review-richard-nixons-graceless-religion/ or https://chartable.com/podcasts/signposts-with-russell-moore/episodes/174677472-nixons-politics-as-a-substitute-for-god   

[10] In addition to the Exodus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy passages, see Psalm 95:8-11. 

Feeding the 4,000 East of Galilee

Sermon title slide showing the two rock churches along the Parkway

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry & Bluemont Churches
August 4, 2024
Mark 8:1-10

Sermon recorded at Mayberry on Friday, August 2, 2024

At the Beginning of Worship:

cover of "White Bread: A Social History of the Store-Brought Loaf"

About a month ago, I read an article where the author referred to this book: White Bread: A Social History of the Store-Brought Loaf.[1] I’m sure most of you might not have found it interesting, but I immediately ordered the book. Of course, I spent three of my college years and about a year and a half afterwards working in a wholesale bakery.[2]

Bread has been the foundation of life for humans in the western world. In the eastern world, it’s rice, of which there are some similarities especially when comparing white rice and white bread. In the west, there have been times in our history where we have received up to half of our calories from bread.

I was shocked to learn that for years white bread was considered the bread of the elite. Not everyone could afford the bleaching and extra processing it took to produce such flour. And, while doing such processing, much of the nutrition found in the wheat grain was lost. But the refined flour was easier to work on an industrial scale.  

To dominate the market for bread, industrial bakers had to both compete with homemade bread and bread made, often by immigrants, in dirty hovels within cities. The bakers attacked mom’s homemade bread as not being as soft and fresh as the heavily conditioned dough used in factories. And they were able to create the impression that their bread was more sanitary than that produced in small bakeries.  

Drawing on American’s distrust of immigrants, the battle against small bakeries was easily won. It’s ironic to think about how bread was used as a weapon in the anti-immigrant wars of the early 20thCentury.[3] Bread divided people!

Jesus uses bread to bring people together. In our passage today, Jesus draws people of different backgrounds together to be fed as he ministers to them. In communion, the common table represents a coming together of those who love him. 

Before the Reading of Scriptures

Ever had a feeling of Déjà vu? As if you’ve heard or experienced something before? Well today, when I read the passage, you might wonder if I’m repeating a sermon from five weeks ago. After all, didn’t Jesus just feed the multitude with five loaves and two fishes? Well, yes, he did. And he’s back at it today. And I admit, I wish Mark hadn’t placed these two stories so close together, because I must come up with something fresh to say… 

In the first story, Jesus fed five thousand. Today’s its four thousand. At this time, as we saw last week, Jesus is on the side of the Sea of Galilee which has a lot of Gentiles. Some scholars want us to think this is the same story.[4] But there are minor differences to the story, including locations[5] which indicate that these are different stories. 

But before I read and get into the sermon, let me tell you an interpretation of the passage popular in the early church. Theologians back then interpreted these events in this manner. The 5,000 were Jews, with five loaves representing the Torah, the first five books of the Bible. This passage speaks of 4,000 being fed with seven loaves. This could represent either the seven nations in Deuteronomy,[6] or the four of 4000 representing the four corners of the earth. By this, Jesus foreshadows what will happen to the church. 

In the earlier story, they collect 12 baskets of leftovers, one for each tribe of Israel. In today’s story, they collect 7 baskets which point to the seventy nations thought to exist in the world at this time, or the seven nations mentioned in Deuteronomy.[7] While using numeric symbolism in interpretation of scripture is valid in some books, it doesn’t go with the rest of Mark’s gospel. Mark isn’t writing Revelation, or Daniel.[8]

Also, numeric symbolism has often been abused. Think of all those who someone has found a way to make their name to equal 666, the number of the beast. I’ve seen it worked out to represent Ronald Reagan, Barack Obama, a handful of Popes, along with several lesser-known folks. 

I don’t necessarily agree with trying to interpret passages by the symbolism of numbers. However, I do think Jesus makes a point by feeding both those Jewish Galilee and in the mixed religious areas of the Decapolis. Jesus is for all people. 

Let’s listen to God’s word. 

Read Mark 8:1-10

The disciples in Mark’s gospel are always clueless. They’ve already seen Jesus take care of the needs of the crowd. Yet, a few weeks later, they ask their Master where they are going to get bread in the desert, in the wilderness. They don’t learn.

While bread was the staff of life for those in the western world for thousands of years before Jesus, it requires civilization to produce. It’s not something that an individual can whip up on their own in any great quantity. Perhaps a homesteader could grow a little wheat or barley and grind it and bake it to feed a family. But to make enough bread for 4,000 people requires a lot more effort. Someone needs to grow the grain, someone else needs to mill it. Another group needs to collect firewood. Then there are those who knead the dough while another tends the fire in the oven. 

In the 1970s, when I was working in the bakery, to make enough bread to satisfy 4000 people would have still taken a team of eight, six hours. Yet, that would only be half hour of production, but the production process takes longer. And that’s with all kinds of modern machinery running on three phase electrical power and supported by a large natural gas line. On top of this, it involved buying flour, shortening, and sweetener by the truck or railcar load. 

So, they are in the desert with a bunch of hungry people. In the feeding of the 5,000, Jesus was so into teaching that he didn’t notice the sun dropping and stomachs growling. The disciples had to clue Jesus in. Here, Jesus realizes the problem. Not only that, but he also has compassion on the people. The word for compassion implies a gut-wrenching turn of one’s stomach.[9]Jesus identifies their hunger, which can be gut-wrenching. And since they’ve come from such distances (the Decapolis wasn’t highly populated), he’s afraid they’ll faint as they make their way home. 

Notice that Jesus’ indicates that many have traveled a great distance to be here. If this is a mostly Gentile crowd (which I think it was), this means that even though they have far to travel, even the Gentiles are not beyond God’s grace. Of course, this is good news to us. 

The disciples immediately ask Jesus what he wants them to do, reminding Jesus there’s no Food Lions or bakeries in sight. 

As he’d done before, Jesus asks how many loaves of bread they have.

Seven, they said. Taking the bread, he asks the crowd to sit down.[10] Then, using language like the words of institution during Communion, he breaks the bread and has the disciples to distribute it. And everyone is filled. 

In this story, unlike the first feeding of a multitude, the fish almost becomes an afterthought. Also, the word here for fish imply small fish such as sardines.[11] They were truly a snack, with the bread serving as the main course. 

After they were fed, we’re told there were 4,000 of them. In the previous story, Mark said there were 5,000 men (as in male) fed. Here, the word implies “people.”[12] We can assume these included men and women, which again points to the early church welcoming all into the fellowship of believers.  As Paul reminds us, we’re all one in Christ whether man or woman, Jew or Greek, slave or free.

Jesus has the disciples collect the leftovers, which results in seven baskets. Then he sends the crowd away, and they headed to a boat and goes to the district of Dalmanutha. We are not sure of its location, and it seems to have been a town lost in history, as even the early church writers debated over its location.[13]

What lesson might we take from this passage? First, we see an example of Jesus’ compassion. He is concerned that some within the crowd had travelled long distances and wanted to make sure they were able to make it home. Jesus is concerned for those who seek him out, and that includes us. We can rest assured that Jesus wants what is best for us. As the 23rd Psalm reminds us, God is with us even when we must walk the valley of the shadow of death.[14]

We also learn of Jesus’ concern for us is more than for the eternal welfare of our soul. Jesus wanted to assure the crowd had enough food to eat. We can assume this is the case even for us. Jesus wants us to have our daily bread. He wants us to succeed in life. 

Because of the image we have of Jesus in scripture, we should we at peace. We may face difficulties in this world, but we know we’re watched over by a loving God. Amen. 


[1] Aaron Bobrow-Strain, White Bread: A Social History of the Store-Brought Loaf (Boston: Beacon Press, 2012). For my review of the book, see https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/07/31/baking-memories-and-a-book-review/

[2] To read my baking stories, begin here: https://fromarockyhillside.com/2021/04/08/coming-of-age-at-the-bakery/

[3] The author goes into detail about the role bread played in World War II and in the Cold War. 

[4] For a review and critique of this idea, see James R. Edwards, The Gospel According to Mark (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2002), 227.

[5] It is pointed out that we are not sure where this feeding took place. However, since Jesus has been in the Decapolis, and we’re not told of Jesus leaving at this point (and Mark has been giving us a rough travelogue, I think it is fair to assume he’s still on the east side of the Sea of Galilee. For another opinion, see Morna D. Hooker, The Gospel According to Saint Mark, (1991, Hendrickson Publishing, 1997), 187-188.  See also Edwards, 229. 

[6] Deuteronomy 7:1. See Edwards, 231. 

[7] Douglas R. A. Hare, Westminster Bible Companion: Mark (Louisville, KY: Westminster, 1996), 89.  Also see Hooker, 188. 

[8] Edwards, 231. 

[9] Andrew Purves, The Search for Compassion: Spirituality and Ministry (1989). See also Edwards, 230.

[10] In the feeding of the 5,000, Jesus has the disciples to order the crowd to sit down into groups of 50 to 100. Here, Jesus does the directing of the crowds. 

[11] Edwards, 228.

[12] Edwards, 231. 

[13] This place must have been renamed or deserted for it wasn’t known even in early Christian history. Hooker, 190. Edwards, 234 makes the case that it could be the fishing village of “Magadan.” 

[14] Psalm 23:4.

Open our ears, that we might hear…

Jeff Garrison
Mayberry & Bluemont Churches
July 28, 2024
Mark 7:31-37

At the beginning of worship:  

This Wednesday, at Bluemont, there will be a revival service. It’s at 7 PM, followed by a time of fellowship with cobbler and ice cream. We invite you to come and to bring friends. I promise, we won’t draw-out the hymns while we encourage people to come forward during an altar call or any such emotional string pulling. Emotional string pulling isn’t for us to do, that’s the work of the Holy Spirit.

But we do have work to do when it comes to making converts for Jesus. We tell his story. And we set the stage by making people feel welcomed and loved, which sets the stage for the Holy Spirit to move in our midst. Borrowing from another pastor, this morning I offer four suggestions on how we might do this: 

The Ten Feet Rule:  If you come within ten feet of another person, make eye contact, smile, and say “hello” (whether you know the person or not).

The Three Minute Rule: Immediately following the worship service, use the first three minutes to seek out someone you do not know and introduce yourself. 

The Two Person Rule:  No one should be left standing or sitting alone. If you see someone like this, sit on the same aisle or stand and talk with them. 

And then, item #4, probably the hardest suggestion to adopt. 

The Front and Center Rule: Regular long-term members should sit in the center of a pew and toward the front. This leaves room at the ends of the pews and in the back for our guest. Instead of things being what makes us most comfortable, it should be what makes our guest feels comfortable.[1]

It all boils’ downs to this; it’s not about us. Church is not about us. We are here because we are followers of Jesus. As in our story today, Jesus has opened our ears to his word and our tongues to praise him. We’re to do is for his glory and to draw other people to him. So instead of focusing on ourselves, Jesus calls us to focus on others. What do they want and need? What will make them comfortable enough to seek Jesus? 

Before Reading the Scriptures:

Last week we saw that Jesus had left the area around the Sea of Galilee, which is after all just a big lake. He traveled overland to a real sea, the Mediterranean. This territory is beyond the traditional boundaries of Israel. The people are Gentiles and pagans. But even here, Jesus’ reputation precedes his arrival. People want to see him such as the woman we met last week. 

In this section of Mark, Jesus wears his walking sandals. After having walked from Galilee to the Mediterranean Sea, in our reading today, he heads to the Decapolis, the region of the ten cities which is on the Gentile side of the Sea of Galilee. But instead of taking the direct route, which would have cut across Galilee, Jesus travels a circular route, heading north and then across the land, before heading south. It’s approximately 120 miles.[2]

Mark doesn’t give us a reason why Jesus took this route. But we can speculate. Maybe Jesus was still looking for a break from the crowds who had hounded him in Galilee. Or maybe he wanted to avoid a premature encounter with Herod, the ruler of the region whom we learned a couple weeks ago, has Jesus on his radar.[3]

Whatever the reason, in our reading today, we find Jesus back in the territory in which he’d been shooed away from after giving release to the man with a legion of demons.[4] While he helped the man, allowing him to live a normal life, most people were frightened by his power and wanted nothing to do with him. This time, however, Jesus seems to be welcomed for they bring a man who has lost the ability to hear and speak. Let’s listen: 

Read Mark 7:31-37

This is one of two miracle stories found in Mark’s gospel that’s not found in either Matthew or Luke.  The second miracle story is in the next chapter, so we’ll look at it in a few weeks. There, Jesus heals a blind man. Mark has told us stories of Jesus healing and freeing people from demons, as well as raising the dead and controlling the weather. While I have suggested over and over in our journey through his gospel that Mark wants to establish the divinity of Jesus, here he establishes key criteria of Jesus’ Messiahship.  

In Matthew’s gospel, we’re told that when John the Baptist was in prison, he began to wonder and doubt. Maybe he became discouraged. So, he sends his disciples to Jesus to see if Jesus is the Messiah. Drawing on the prophets, Jesus tells John’s disciples: “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them.”[5] Jesus fulfills part of that call in this passage. 

We also should ponder if those who have brought this man to Jesus thought he’d be healed. Instead of asking for a healing, they ask Jesus to lay his hands on the man. While laying on of hands may resort in healing, it was also something done as a blessing.[6]

After all, there have been many times when everyone knew someone was about to die that I would anoint them with oil and then have elders and family lay hands on them as we pray. In other words, you lift them up and place them into God’s hands. 

Instead of oil, Jesus uses spit. For us, that might seem nasty or weird. I’ve certainly never used spit. Even in the Old Testament, such fluids were to be avoided. But in Jesus’ day, it appears to have been common for some healers to use such bodily fluids. It seems odd that Jesus, who in the previous story freed the young girl from a demon without even saying something or seeing her, employs such theoretics. However, as we’re told in the text, Jesus doesn’t do this in front of the crowd, but in private.[7] Also, here, Jesus appears to call upon heaven for help. And the man’s ears open and his tongue is freed. He can communicate again. 

While Jesus tells them to tell no one, they proclaim Jesus’ greatness. That last line is a winner. “He has done everything well; he even makes the deaf to hear and the mute to speak. 

This passage is one that we can all place ourselves into, at least metaphorically.[8] We need our ears opened, so that we might hear and understand the words of Jesus. For unless the Holy Spirit, often through another person, opens scripture for us, we are lost. 

We need to have our ears opened (or maybe the wax cleaned from them, so that we might hear what Jesus has to say to the world. And once we hear, our tongues need to be freed so that we might be a witness to Christ. 

No longer does Jesus have to worry about keeping himself secret. The powers of this world have done all they can to him, and he still lives and reigns in power. We, his church, are to follow him, showing his love and proclaiming his grace. Like the man in the story, pray that we might hear what Jesus wants us to hear and that our tongues might be freed so we can share with others what Jesus has done for us. Amen. 


[1] This came from the Reverend James Gerling. I don’t remember where I found it. 

[2] James R. Edwards, The Gospel According to Mark (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2002), 223-224.

[3] Mark 6:14-15, see https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/06/23/the-death-of-john-the-baptist/

[4] Mark 5:1-20. See https://fromarockyhillside.com/2024/06/02/jesus-and-the-man-living-in-the-tombs/

[5] Matthew 11:4-5. 

[6] William L. Lane, The Gospel of Mark, (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1974), 266.

[7] Jesus may have done this privately in order not to be seen as a miracle worker in front of the crowds. Lane, 268. 

[8] See Douglas R. A. Hare, Westminster Bible Companion: Mark (Louisville, KY: WJKKP, 1996), 88.