Today's Sermon

 

“Following Upward"

 

 “Following Upward - On the Road Series”

            Lately, we have been embedding the scripture reading in the sermon in order to provide some context. Today, I want you simply to listen with fresh ears. When you hear this short account of Jesus, what do you think it is trying to communicate?

Mark 2:13-17
            13 Jesus went out again beside the lake; the whole crowd gathered around him, and he taught them. ¹⁴As he was walking along, he saw Levi son of Alphaeus sitting at the tax booth, and he said to him, ‘Follow me.’ And he got up and followed him.

            15 And as he sat at dinner in Levi’s house, many tax-collectors and sinners were also sitting with Jesus and his disciples—for there were many who followed him. ¹⁶When the scribes of the Pharisees saw that he was eating with sinners and tax-collectors, they said to his disciples, ‘Why does he eat with tax-collectors and sinners?’ ¹⁷When Jesus heard this, he said to them, ‘Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick; I have come to call not the righteous but sinners.’

            I suspect some zoomed in on this idea that Jesus came for sinners not the righteous. It’s an important point. His message is for those who have lost their way not those who’ve got it all figured out. This is why anyone who turns Christianity into some kind of purity test misses Jesus’ point entirely. We are here to grow, not show off how perfect we are. As Franciscan Richard Rohr puts it, “Jesus is never upset at sinners (check it out!); he is only upset with people who do not think they are sinners!” [but are][1]

            One of Rohr’s classic works gets at the heart of this passage. The book is titled Falling Upward. It’s about the two halves of life, though the halves aren’t as much about chronology as they are about consciousness. Aging may play a part, but it’s more about growth and maturity. Rohr’s formulation is similar to what David Brooks writes about in his work The Second Mountain, if you are familiar. The two halves represent two ways of inhabiting the world and moving through life. Rohr likens the first half to building a container for our lives, a framework—work, titles, roles, reputation, security, fitting into and mastering systems, excelling within the rules written and maybe even more unwritten, succeeding in a traditional sense. Levi at the tax booth is an example. The second half of life is less about traditional success, less about conformity, climbing within a system. It’s not about being a rebel without a cause either. It’s about tapping into a deeper sense of direction, values, and wisdom. It doesn’t require the same approval mechanisms of the first half. Levi who gets up and leaves the tax booth is an example of this.  

            The first half is not inherently bad—it has its place—but Rohr argues we are invited to move into the second act at some point. It’s a little like learning the rules of poetry before going onto write something beautiful that betrays them. It’s like learning stories and teachings in Sunday school only to push the boundaries of love even wider as you grow up. The problem, says Rohr, is that many don’t ever grow out of the first half. This is why we find ourselves looking around and wondering, “Where are the adults?”  

            Sometimes the move from first half consciousness to second comes through intention and choice and other times we’re thrust into it by circumstance. A big life change that forces us to reevaluate—we’re laid off, a tragedy befalls us, something in our life falls apart. We start to reevaluate what we’ve made our lives about, and we feel the desire for something more.

            When we fail to move from the first to the second, we stunt the growth of our soul, and fail to develop the necessary internal compass to steer us toward true compassionate living, sacrificial love, caring about the needs of the other and the whole. We fall back into and fall for black and white thinking and top-down only instruction. We fixate one what or who is a threat to the order as established. Rohr says this explains the attraction to so many authoritative figures. He writes, “Most wars, genocides, and tragedies in history have been waged by unquestioning followers of dominating leaders.”[2] The problem is not being a follower, but following those who like to dominate others, swapping healthy structure—think a responsible parent—for violent order—think an abusive one. We see it in business, politics, religion, society, and our relationships.

            Jesus is interested in people who want to evolve not those who think they already have. Either they’re right and they don’t need him or they’re wrong and therefore not ready. His primary question is not, “Are you bad?” but “Do you want to grow?” I am amazed at how many people come to a place of spiritual teaching intent on showing how right they have it. Why bother? This is the way of the Pharisees and scribes he challenges, which isn’t to say all of them. They have the answers and are happy to impose it on others. That is not why we’re here. We take this journey, to lean into the metaphor in a way we didn’t last week, in order to get somewhere we aren’t yet. Jesus came for those who know their need to grow.

            There are dramatic accounts of people moving from the first to second half of life. In the aftermath of the fall of the Soviet Union, Yevgeny Pushenko opened a clothing factory and built a booming business. Then one day, he pulled his friends together, shared some vodka, and handed over the keys to his factory. It shocked everyone. Even though prior he hadn’t practiced his orthodox faith much, he set out on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land…on foot, 15,000 kilometers away. It took him three years. He renamed himself Athanassios and retired to a monastery in Greece.[3] By first-half thinking he was insane, by second-half enlightened, free.

            Do we all need to abandon our jobs to make prayer our vocation? Sometimes life makes it hard to live out even our best impulses. I had a friend who after being a teacher for a couple of years, went back to law school so he could work to better public schools. After graduation, he interviewed and told an urban school district he needed to earn $40,000 in order to make it. They offered him $32,000. He went corporate and never looked back. He also died young and unwell and I can’t help but wonder if part of it had to do with the fact he couldn’t find a way to step into the second half his soul knew he needed.

            We don’t all need to become monks. We can all, however, grow up. Rohr says “no one can keep you from the second half of your own life except yourself. Nothing can inhibit your second journey except your own lack of courage, patience, and imagination…Pain is part of the deal. If you don't walk into the second half of your own life, it is you who do not want it. God will always give you exactly what you truly want and desire.”[4] Those words feel harsh to me. They also may be true.  

            Rohr’s book is called Falling Upward, because it reveals a so-called downward move is actually an upward one. Maybe we should call this leg of the journey, following upward, for it involves actively choosing to follow a greater way that we graduate to second half being. “As he was walking along, he saw Levi, son of Alphaeus sitting at the tax booth, and he said to him, ‘Follow me.’ And he got up and followed him.”

            Amen.

[1] Richard Rohr, Falling Upward.

[2] Ibid.

[3] https://www.ekathimerini.com/news/27085/the-amazing-pilgrimage-of-russian-businessman-turned-monk-athanassios/

[4] Rohr, Falling Upward.