In the name of God ☩ Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
You all have seen the footage of the landing crafts, full of infantry, landing on the beaches of Normandy on June 6, 1944. This invasion by the Allied forces began the decisive victory over Nazi Germany and changed the course of world history. Though the war did not end that day, the tide of the war changed and D-Day began the process of the liberation of Europe. Many of you can probably recall one of the famous photographs of that day taken from inside a landing craft showing cloudy skies, a beach lined with artillery, and hundreds of troops. And though these troops were all individual men, the photos generally show them only from the back, obscuring their identity and portraying them as the collective savior of Western democracy. The reason why I’m beginning this sermon by helping you to imagine the D-Day landing is that image is precisely the one that will help us to understand what Mark is saying as he introduces us to Jesus.
The world, as Mark sees it, very much hangs in the balance, just as it did on the eve of the Normandy landing. The forces of evil, armed with the weapons of doubt, fear, and hatred, were threatening to overtake the world with their darkness. Certainly, there were some living holy lives. But the religious institution of the day had become morally bankrupt and devoid of authentic authority. The people were living under Roman occupation of the Holy Land, which was corrupting true religion. Reminding people about the Torah wasn’t leading to the needed repentance. The prophets had not been able to summon the people to holiness. The forces of sin and death were making too many advances. Something had to be done to change the trajectory of this struggle between evil and love. An invasion was needed to turn the tide of history.
This image of the invasion of God’s grace into our tortured world is seen in verse 10 which reads “And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him.” The key word in this passage is “torn apart,” which is the Greek word schizo. It is a violent word that really does mean ripped apart. Matthew and Luke, when they record this event, use a gentler word that means “opened.” But that word doesn’t work for Mark. It isn’t strong enough, so he uses the more forceful “tear apart.” Mark likely has the words of Isaiah in mind, which say “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down.” Jesus has come as God’s promise of mercy and justice, as the invasion of grace to defeat the forces of sin and death. God has ripped apart the heavens, the very created order that we heard about in Genesis this morning, in order to come and save us. That is how cataclysmic this Jesus-event is. It is a new beginning as pivotal and important as the act of Creation itself.
Today’s passage from Mark comes at the very start of the Gospel. Whereas Matthew, Luke, and John all present some sort of origin story or birth narrative, Mark has no need for such as story. For Mark, it doesn’t matter if Jesus was born in Bethlehem to fulfill a prophecy, what matters is that God has ripped apart the heavens to bring salvation to the world in an unprecedented invasion of grace. God is now on the loose and is seen and known in Jesus. Jesus is God’s incursion into the world to free us from the forces that were holding us captive. This is about God’s revelation, not our ability to deduce who Jesus is from clues and signs.
And so the tenor of all of Mark’s gospel is apocalyptic. For this liturgical year, which began in Advent, Mark will be the Gospel that is read. There are a few occasions on which the lectionary appoints Gospel readings from John, but this year is all about Mark. So as we go through this year, always keep this apocalyptic foundation in mind; when you read Mark, have D-Day in your mind. Apocalypse does not mean “end of the world,” rather it means “uncovering.” What Mark is seeking to do is to show us how there is a narrative that runs counter to the one that Rome is peddling. It is a narrative that refutes corrupt religious systems and their seeking to control salvation. Mark seeks to show us that this invasion has begun.
This is obvious from how Mark begins his writing – the very first verse is “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ.” I know that we don’t hear it that way, but this is an extremely confrontational and politically charged statement. The word “good news” is the exact same word that Rome used when they issued a royal decree. If Mark wrote today, it would read “The State of the Union of Jesus Christ.” The announcement of a new kingdom is a threat to those with stock in earthly kingdoms. Jesus’ incursion is very threatening to those with power.
Jesus has come to reveal the truth of God, but this truth is in conflict with the truths of religious leaders, with the truths of the market, with the truths of empire. And so there is always tension in the Gospel. God has torn through the heavens to proclaim a message of radical mercy, inclusion, and grace. But this message inaugurates an entirely new era, a new Kingdom, and a new way of thinking. That is why John the Baptizer announces this divine arrival by calling us to repentance. The word “repent” is not primarily about apologies or remorse, but rather means “to change your mind.” Change your mind about who is really in charge.
Those with power, those with privilege, those with influence rather like things as they are. The message of Christ is radically subversive – the least shall be the greatest, it is more blessed to give than to receive, take up your cross and follow me, he has cast down the mighty and lifted up the lowly – these are “fighting words” as they challenge all of our presuppositions about how things are supposed to work. The powers of the world resist this apocalypse, this revealing, of God. Jesus’ way of mercy, grace, and peace reveal that the ways of violence and domination are predators and pretenders. When God comes, light is shined on the darkness, the invisible is made visible, our complicity is exposed. Changing our minds is difficult, especially so when we are enjoying what the world would call a successful life. And so like the D-Day analogy, the coming of God really is a conflict, which we will see most fully at the Cross.
There’s a trap that we could easily fall into though if we stopped reading here and just ran with the warlike imagery, and many Christians have done that. We must not lose sight of God’s declaration at the Baptism of Jesus – “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” Jesus does not violently resist Rome, he has no body count associated with his ministry (other than his own body, of course). Jesus’ ministry is an invasion of love, and Jesus rejects the idea of a violent revolution against worldly powers or timid compliance with them. Rather, Jesus presents a third option to resistance or submission – he gives us the option of discipleship. The world deals with problems by assimilation or extermination – this is how Rome operated, and how religion can be perverted: join us or die. Jesus though, in the greatest coup of all time, overthrew the mighty Roman Empire, not by acquiescing or revolting, but by dying on a Cross.
Jesus’ followers are made up of people who believe that they have all the time in the world, made possible by God’s patience and persistence, to challenge the violent ways of the world. The hymn “A Mighty Fortress” captures well this sentiment: The body they may kill: God’s truth abideth still, His Kingdom is forever.” Because of Jesus’ Crucifixion and Resurrection, death is not final and love is never conquered. This means we can live differently and resiliently, which is what discipleship is all about. Our discipleship, which begins with our own Baptisms, allows us to participate in God’s counter-narrative. Just as God is overthrowing the false rulers of this world, so too can we reject them as idols. Because God has torn a gash in the heavens and the Spirit comes through it, the Spirit flows freely, not only to certain people, but to us all.
This rejection of a violent uprising and a different way of being is seen at the end of Mark, in chapter 15. After Jesus is Crucified, Mark records “Then Jesus gave a loud cry and breathed his last. And the curtain of the temple was torn in two.” Mark uses that same word, schizo, to describe this event. The only time that word is used at the beginning at Jesus’ Baptism and at the end at his Crucifixion. It is unequivocally clear that what Mark has in mind is not an armed uprising or resistance, but rather embracing the power revealed in Jesus on the Cross. Scholars tell us that the outer veil of the Temple, which is likely what was torn, was a large tapestry that had a panorama of the heavens depicted on it. So both at the beginning and the end, the heavens are torn apart, giving an apocalyptic vision of God’s reality. At the beginning of Mark, it is a vision of God’s incursion into our world to do battle with the forces of evil, and at the end of Mark, it is a vision that shows that God’s victory is not found in the sword, but in the unexpected and revolutionary power of the Cross.
Baptism, then, is our immersion into this struggle in which God shines grace upon us. While I absolutely think that Baptism is valid regardless of how much water is used, my preference really would be for us to have an immersion font that is cross-shaped. For one, that’s what was used in the early Church. But the imagery is richer. Early Baptismal fonts looked like a cross-shaped coffin to make it clear that we are dying to self and to the rulers of this world and being born anew in Christ. It’s the ultimate way of understanding repentance – it’s a clean break with the old order and priorities and changing our minds about what power looks like and who is in charge. Baptism in our initiation into this new way of being as followers of the Crucified Messiah, which is the biggest oxymoron imaginable. It’s not the salvation we would have ever come up with, and so God rends apart the heavens to reveal this victory to us.
At stake for Mark is nothing less than the fate of all Creation. In Jesus, God has decisively invaded our world to make known God’s grace, love, and mercy. So at the outset, the heavens are torn as Mark delivers the war bulletin reporting the good news from the front lines of this cosmic battle that our salvation has come. Baptism is the sign that you are made a part of this new Creation. It apocalyptically reveals to you that you are covered with God’s grace and love, and enables you to grow and participate in the victory of Christ over the powers of sin and death.
In Jesus, God launched a divine D-Day to liberate us and open to us the way of peace. Just a few verse later in Mark, Jesus will utter his first words in this Gospel – just as they were then, may they be our battle cry today: “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.”
