In my teenage years, and a little beyond, I engaged in practical jokes and sometimes had those same jokes played on me.
One of the more startling of these was mattress dumping, with the occupant still on the mattress.
It may have been just a guy thing, but the people I hung with always thought it was hilarious.
This section of Mark’s gospel has Jesus doing the equivalent of mattress dumping, except no one is laughing.
Jesus tells his followers, “The last shall be first and the first, last.”
He says that in various forms multiple times and offers illustrations of what he means by that, multiple times.
In each case his followers are startled out of their assumptions about who Jesus is and what he intends to do.
It all begins with the “Who do you say that I am?” exchange in chapter 8.
The assumptions the followers have about what kind of messiah/anointed one Jesus will be, are crushed three times by Jesus predicting his passion and death.
In between each prediction Jesus teaches his followers what to expect in the reign of God.
In each of those teaching encounters, Jesus upends expectations and assumptions, particularly about eternal life.
Today’s passage fits squarely into this pattern.
Do you believe God loves you?
This question is at the foundation of today’s passage from Mark’s gospel account.
Jesus looks at his questioner with love.
This is not an easy person to like, much less love.
He tries to flatter Jesus at the outset; and Jesus will have none of it.
He reminds me of the character, Eddie Haskell in Leave It To Beaver.
The encounter, with important variations, is also related in Matthew’s account and Luke’s account.
I have assumed from an early age to very recently that Jesus’ response instructed us followers to renounce our wealth as a matter of charity.
More recently I’ve come to see that in Mark’s account Jesus is instructing us followers to renounce wealth as a matter of justice.
Two “clues” in the passage lead me to this change of viewpoint.
Jesus’ recitation of the law of Moses includes one not found anywhere else, namely, “You must not defraud.”
That “law,” made up here by Jesus, is not included here by accident.
It is a riff on the theme of this section – the last shall be first and the first shall be last.
This man’s wealth is not a sign of God’s favor.
The other “clue” is revealed as the man goes away “sad” or “gloomy” because he has much property.
The class of persons with multiple farms or estates utilized sharecroppers and day laborers to plant and cultivate and harvest.
The love Jesus expresses for the questioner is the Greek word, agape, which followers of Jesus embraced because it lends itself perfectly to the table fellowship we call Eucharist.
It is an unconditional love.
This not very sympathetic character could be welcomed into the reign of God and eternal life.
The “go, sell what you have, and give it to the poor,” will be the restitution owed the poor so that this man can stand on the same elevated plane as the poor and weak and vulnerable in God’s eyes.
But eternal life for the follower of Christ Jesus begins not in the transition of bodily death, but rather in the moment of conversion of mind and heart.
The community of faith we form is called the Body of Christ for good reason.
We live into the reign of God in this time and in this place.
The challenge of the Gospel in this passage and others is to form a community of justice and agape where no one is a stranger and where those on the margins of society are welcomed as co-heirs with Christ in the reign of God.
The act of restitution that Jesus required of the man in our gospel account is by any measure, extreme.
But the followers say, we have left everything behind (namely, their livelihood of fishing).
What may we expect?
Their renunciation of livelihood is also extreme.
How do we in this time and place follow Christ Jesus?
I will offer two suggestions, both of which take into account a much different social and economic reality today versus Palestine in the era of Roman occupation.
The so-called global economy chugs along in large part because our nation is dedicated to consuming the goods of the world.
From cars and appliances to paper diapers and pet food; from cell phones and chrome books to Ikea furniture and hamburgers, we consume a lot of stuff without a backward glance for where and how it is made.
For those of us who are lucky enough and privileged enough to have incomes from pensions, annuities, 401Ks, 403Bs, and so on, we need to think about how those are invested, because the wealth created there is done on the backs of human beings whose lives are precarious while they make the stuff we consume.
When I think about this I am overwhelmed.
What can I possibly do to unravel this complex web that enriches some and keeps others down?
My first suggestion to myself is this.
Take the top ten percent of that yearly unearned income and give it away, not as charity, but as restitution for how wealth is created in ways that are out of any one person’s control.
My other suggestion to myself has to do with solidarity and community.
This Solidarity Sunday lifts up the persons of the LGBTQ community who have suffered extraordinary discrimination and violent reprisal in this country.
Some of the beloved members of this Sunday Assembly, like Jim Green and Dick Wagner (both of happy memory), were instrumental in lifting up and welcoming persons of all sexual orientations and identities in this place.
I think they would also be among the first to say that solidarity with others on the margins of our society and economy is essential if this Sunday Assembly is to stay true to Jesus’ call, “come follow me.”
Jesus brooks no compromise with the man, and later, with his followers.
This may be the most “squirm in your pew” passage of the bible.
Even the “With God all things are possible,” verse does not let anyone off the hook.
It just might mean, throw ourselves on God’s mercy.
In the meantime, as we grow into the Body of Christ, may we be inventive and bold in our acts of agape and in our acts of justice and restitution.
That we will seek and find in the cross of Christ the courage, the energy, and the will to lift up those who are carrying heavy burdens, we pray …
For our world, that we may rejoice in the diversity that makes up the human race. That we may find ourselves curious instead of condemning those who are different from us, and that we rejoice in the many ways God’s love flows through each of us, we pray…
For those who ever wondered if they were truly made in the image and likeness of God because of their sexual orientation or gender identity. May they know they are fearfully and wonderfully made in God’s loving image; we pray…
For those in the LGBTQIA+ community who have felt ostracized because the Word of God has been turned into a weapon and a tool of oppression. May God break through the barriers that have led to harmful interpretations; we pray…
O God, help us listen to the cries of the wounded and seek true peace and justice. Give us the strength to be instruments of healing and compassion, remembering those who suffer and working toward a future where every life is valued. Amen.