Preached at First Presbyterian Church, Hallock, Minn.

First Presbyterian Church

Hallock, Minn.

Adam J. Copeland

More Rigorous Still

Mark 10:2-16

Run your hand across a Bible text, says Barbara Brown Taylor, and see what’s rough. What sticks out? What verses give a splinter? What stings? What would you rather just ignore? That’s what God is calling you to explore. Don’t take the easy way out. Take out the tweezers and magnifying glass, and dig right in.

I don’t know about you, but I got a rather big splinter when I read from Mark this morning. I was planning to celebrate World Communion Sunday in peace, but Mark came along — or Jesus, really, came along — to complicate matters entirely.

You see, in this time of high divorce rates, when many of us are divorced, when everyone loves someone who has been divorced, it hits a bit too close to home to actually talk about marriage and divorce — in church, no less.

When red states are amending their state Constitution to strictly define marriage between a man and a woman, and blue states are opening marriage to gay and lesbian couples, it’s probably easier just not to bother about all that in church (we don’t want to end up like those Lutherans and cause such a ruckus.)

When questions challenge us, when the changing times push us, when Jesus raises a tough issue and a splinter sticks out, it’s so much easier, so much nicer to just look the other way and pretend it didn’t happen.

But, I’m afraid, it did. On a perfectly nice World Communion Sunday Jesus had to bring up marriage and divorce. I’m afraid we’re stuck with it. So let’s puzzle this out together.

The Pharisees, sort of like the first century church-etiquette police ask Jesus: “Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife?”

Jesus points them, quite sensibly, to the etiquette they already know by heart — the law of Moses in Deuteronomy. Moses’ law allowed a man to divorce his wife. Case closed, right? Let’s all move on and have a happy Sunday and watch the Twins game (or head to the first Sioux Hockey game)… but, then Jesus went on.

“Moses wrote that because you couldn’t make the grade, but from the beginning of creation, ‘God made them male and female’ (Jesus is quoting from Genesis here). “For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh. So they are no longer two, but one flesh. Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate.”

I bet that last line is familiar. It’s said by the pastor at most weddings. “What God has joined together, let no one separate.” And we all mean it, don’t we–what God has done, what blessing has occurred at the wedding, we do not want separated by anything (not death or hardship, abuse or neglect). Let nothing separate: that is the holy ideal, that is our promise, our prayer, our hope.

And yet, we all know that not all marriages work. Some are beset by abuse so bad that nobody in their right mind would say they are God’s will. Others are perfectly congenial, but just don’t work. Each party seeking with all their might to love God and one another, but for whatever conflux of reasons, they can’t quite pull it off. If we’re being honest, this reality shouldn’t be a great surprise. Even as we make covenants before God and one another, we know that all human commitments are flawed, since sin clouds our eyes and ruins our ways. Only God can uphold a covenant with perfection, and only with God can we hope to get anywhere close.

So, for these reasons and more, divorce is a reality that was present in Moses’ time, in Jesus’ time, in our time, and — short of the kingdom coming — will continue to be present with future generations.

In fact, cultures all over the world struggle with this reality. In Ireland today, it’s actually pretty difficult to obtain a divorce. Couples must be separated for four out of five years before a divorce will be granted. In Sweden, on the other hand, a party can file alone for divorce and it can go through in six months. In Brazil that’s nothing: for a no contest divorce, if the couple presents their national IDs and pay a small fee, it’s all wrapped up in two weeks. While in many Muslim societies, divorce rules vary widely according to local religious interpretation. And three nations in the world: Malta, the Philippines, and Vatican City don’t allow divorce at all. And of course, even each state in the US has different laws concerning both marriage and divorce.

But why all these world facts about divorce? Well, it’s good to remember our struggle in the US does not make us unique. Entirely the opposite, in fact: all of us, no matter our country of origin, struggle with how to live out public covenants to love one another. Covenants that we all, in our imperfection, are apt to break.

So now, back to that splinter. What does Jesus have to say about divorce? Well, when we read carefully, Jesus — in his usual tricky way — reframes the question. When the Pharisees ask about divorce, he dodges that question and instead talks about God’s intention for marriage. The pharisees try to ask about special cases, about divorce and Jesus only talks about what is ideally normative; about the perfect relationship.

It sort of like, if in my interview with the pastor nominating committee for this congregation I asked: “How does First Pres Hallock deal with conflict?” And the committee answered: “God intended for us to live together with unity in the midst of our diversity, to always bear one another’s burden, and outdo one another in generosity.” Right, but how do you deal with conflict?

Jesus didn’t really answer the question, he rather called them to a new standard. It’s sort of like what Jesus was up to in last week’s passage, setting incredibly high expectations: if your hand causes you to stumble and not welcome the lease of these, cut if off. As soon as the pharisees or disciples try to get an exception approved, Jesus tightens the ratchet further and makes the call to follow him more rigorous still.

And, by the way, notice that Jesus was not saying everyone should be married — he himself, after all, lived the perfect life and there’s no evidence he was ever in any type of relationship. Jesus was asked a question about marriage, and he called those married to a higher standard.

And Jesus is certainly not addressing contemporary questions of gay and lesbian relationships. No, he’s responding to a specific question about rules governing a first century Jewish understanding of marriage between a man and a woman.

But, as usual, Jesus doesn’t just tell us, he shows us. That’s what ultimately makes him a great teacher, not just his words, his actions.

After all this legal wrangling what does Jesus do but, again, tighten that screw further. Or, looking at in another way, Jesus widens his embrace even more.

What follows is the scene Leanna is painting in the nursery. The crowds were bringing their children forward in order that Jesus might touch the kids, but the disciples were holding them back. So Jesus says, rather indignantly Mark adds, “Let the little children come to me; don’t you dare stop them, for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs.”

Such as these weak little children. Such as the least valuable and most vulnerable of society. Theirs is the kingdom. After Jesus told those married how to live together perfectly, he shows us all how to put love into action.

I was on a sugar beet field last week learning as much as I could about the campaign, and at one point, I got off the tractor and picked up a little sugar beet that had fallen through the cracks of the harvester. “I asked, so what happens to this little one?” “It’s just left on the field,” I was told. It was too small. Underdeveloped. Worth too little. Too insignificant to matter.

But nobody is too small, too broken, too much of an outsider to be welcomed into Jesus’ arms. No one is beyond God’s forgiveness. No one can escape the love which passes all understanding.

And so we gather around this table, aching for that kingdom in which all are welcome. We gather as farmers and widows; married, divorced, single, whatever. We gather as the powerful and the powerless, the young and the old, and join in celebrating Jesus’ love which is perfect, Jesus’ hopes which are ideal, Jesus’ embrace which is both warm and earth shattering.

So, maybe, this text isn’t a splinter after all, but just a tough call to be the loving people God intended us to be. Praise be to God who expects our best. Praise be to Christ who welcomes with open arms us nonetheless.