The Cost of Discipleship

James 3:13-4:3, 7-8a     Mark 9:30-37

Jesus and His disciples passed through Galilee. He did not want anyone to know it; for He was teaching His disciples…

In today’s short Gospel reading, Jesus has made an effort to get some time alone with His disciples.  He is passing through familiar territory, where He would be instantly recognized, but His message to His closest friends is urgent, and so He hopes not to be spotted by the crowds which are so often mentioned in Mark’s Gospel.  What can He have to say, that He goes to the trouble to remain unnoticed?

He was teaching His disciples, saying to them, “The Son of Man is to be betrayed into human hands, and they will kill him, and three days after being killed, he will rise again.” But they did not understand what He was saying and were afraid to ask Him.

As you know, Mark’s Gospel is the oldest of all the four Gospels.  It is shorter than the other three, and the language is less fluent, scholars believe this is because Mark was not fluent in Greek.  Nonetheless, it is the Gospel written closest to Jesus’ lifetime, and so we pay close attention to what Mark has to say. 

Today we are given another glimpse of how Jesus spent time explaining things to His disciples.  The disciples held a special place with Jesus, because they were His closest friends.  For much of Christian history, being identified as a “disciple of Jesus” has been considered high praise. The disciples, after all, were the handpicked group of followers who lived, learned, and labored alongside Jesus. They were commissioned to heal the sick, baptize sinners, and proclaim the Good News of God in Christ to the ends of the earth.

But if we listen closely, we can’t help but notice that the Bible does not always portray the disciples with such glamour and reverence. In today’s Gospel reading, for the second time in Mark’s Gospel, Jesus takes the disciples aside to teach them that He will soon be given over to human hands and will suffer, die, and rise again. And for the second time, the disciples don’t get it.

In fact, Mark’s Gospel tells of Jesus trying to teach the disciples this crucial lesson on three different occasions, and each and every time, the disciples don’t get it.  Instead, they’re concerned with things like which one of them is the greatest and what the folks in town thought about them and what they were going to eat for lunch. How human can you get?

But, despite their seeming thickness, or perhaps resistance to what they are being told,  the disciples weren’t stupid.  On some level they would have grasped what Jesus was telling them.  For them the problem was that what Jesus said wasn’t something they wanted to hear.  So – they “fail to understand” Jesus’ teaching about His suffering, death, and resurrection, and then they’re also too afraid to ask Jesus any questions about it!  Why not question Him?  Why not make sure?

Perhaps the disciples were afraid to ask simply because they should have been paying better attention.  Or maybe they were afraid to ask because Jesus would think they were ignorant.  But maybe the real reason they were afraid to ask Jesus a question was because somewhere deep down, they already knew the answer. We understand all of these possibilities. 

How often are we afraid to ask a question because we think we should know the answer, or because we’re afraid our question is stupid, or even because we’re afraid of the answer itself? 

Jesus said, “The Son of Man is to be betrayed into human hands, and they will kill Him, and three days after being killed, He will rise again.”

Last week, Mark told us of Peter’s reaction to the first time Jesus gave His friends this news.  This week, however, Mark doesn’t tell us the expressions on the disciples’ faces when they heard what Jesus had to say.  He doesn’t tell us about the gasps and the horrified stares and the hard gulps.  And he says nothing about the heavy hush that surely descended upon the disciples. But we know they were listening, for Mark tells us, “They were afraid…”

And we can make a good guess as to why they were afraid.  First, it is very likely they feared for the fate of their friend and leader.  But at the same time, they must have feared for themselves.  Think what they had given up to follow Jesus.  Each and every one of them had left their families and their livelihoods to take an enormous risk in becoming His disciple, and so hearing that He expects to be arrested and killed—never mind the bit about rising from the dead—all comes as quite a shock.  They knew well that if Jesus was arrested and killed, His closest associates would also come under scrutiny.  Perhaps what was at the root of the disciples’ fear is the fact that they were beginning to understand, even just a little, the true cost of discipleship.

But on the way to Galilee, they weren’t thinking about the hard lesson Jesus had already once tried to impress on them.  One tires to suppress shocking news one doesn’t want to hear is.  On the way to Galilee, they were busy being less His disciples and instead being simply human.  They had been involved in a heated conversation, and when Jesus asked them, “What were you arguing about on the way?” they were silent, for on the way they had argued with one another who was the greatest.

There is a striking contrast between what Jesus is trying to teach His closest friends, and what concerns them the most.  It is often thus in our own lives, as we struggle to live in the world and at the same time follow Jesus, doing what He has both taught us and commanded us to do. 

In our first reading this morning, James, Jesus’ brother, speaks of the inner struggles the disciples faced, the ones we all face, the very human nature that rises up and overrides our calling as Jesus/’ friends.

Those conflicts and disputes among you, where do they come from? Do they not come from your cravings that are at war within you? 

In our world wealth is good but more wealth is better; consumerism is king; and our worth is measured by what we have rather than what we give.  This is how it is, and the cost of discipleship is such that many would prefer to not accept the hard news that Jesus is teaching us again today, that, following His example, we should strive for humility, and that any suffering we endure for Him is made holy by His Passion, His suffering for us. There’s that word again, “suffering”.  It’s one that we prefer to both not experience and to suppress.

James asks us, “Who is wise and understanding among you? Show by your good life that your works are done with gentleness born of wisdom.”

We find ourselves always struggling to be kind, generous, patient, and loving, when it is so much easier to be impatient, stingy (we call it thrifty), and selfish.  Those latter words may sound like someone “having a bad day”, but while Jesus understands and forgives our bad days, they go against everything He has taught us and everything He expects from us as His friends. 

For us, those “bad days” are the times we try to avoid having to make sacrifices, avoid even the slightest form of suffering.  The Church calls these sins.  For Jesus they are a painful reminder of the many ways in which we do not love as He loves us, do not accept our own cross.

Jesus words that there will be suffering if we do His work in this world, is sobering.  Yet, each day we are called to set our hearts on Him and to do something beautiful for God.  Because we are human, we will often fail, but let us pray always for the help, strength, and courage to be faithful.  Let us do as James encourages us to do

Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you.

 Let us pray:

Lord Jesus, our friend and great Companion, lead us ever more deeply into a knowledge of Your life and ours, make us faithful, help us to be holy, fill us with Your Joy, that we may love as You love, and do as You would do.  All this we ask for Your Love and mercy’s sake. Amen.