Sermon for the 20th Sunday after Pentecost

Preached at Grace and Canadochly on October 7, 2018
Preaching texts: Genesis 2:18-24, Mark 10:2-16

Last Sunday, our Old Testament lesson was one of a number of stories from the Exodus where the people of God were complaining about something (Numbers 11:4-6). They didn’t like the food. They were tired of the desert. They all wanted to go back to Egypt. They wanted to go back into bondage. Now that might seem odd. Why would anyone want to go willingly into slavery? But this is a pretty typical pattern for stories during the wilderness journey. There are very few stories from that portion of the Bible that don’t begin with the Israelites bellyaching about something and then expressing their desire to go back into slavery.

There’s a reason for that, of course, and that reason too might seem a bit odd. You see, the people didn’t really want freedom, they didn’t really want to be liberated from bondage. They thought they did, but then they realized something. Freedom brings with it certain responsibilities. They would have to take care of themselves. They would have to take care of one another. They would have to depend on their neighbors for survival, for success, and their neighbors would, in turn, have to depend on them. And it was all just too much work. Easier to be a slave where you didn’t have to worry about all that. Let the Egyptians take care of everything.

This ties into our Gospel lesson today. Jesus references an Exodus era law when he is confronted with the question of divorce, but he also adds a bit of commentary. “Because of your hardness of heart Moses wrote this commandment for you.” It was the same hardness of heart that was behind all the complaining and all the bellyaching and all the desire to go back into bondage. They didn’t want to take care of one another. They didn’t want that responsibility. Not in marriage and not in society.

And that’s a bit of a problem.

You see marriage and the family, which we see the origins of in our Old Testament lesson this week, is the fundamental building block of human society. And it is a relationship built upon the idea that these two people are pledging to care for one another, to support one another, to build each other up, to make their lives richer and better by their efforts. As human society expands outward from that family unit, the expectation from God is that these families will not only do that sort of care within themselves, but also with other families, with their neighbors. Human civilization will build itself up and thrive based on its ability for each of its component parts to support each other. We depend on one another. We support one another. We care for one another. And we thrive as a result.

Just imagine if you had to do everything yourself. You had to process the gas for your car. You had to build your car. You had to forge the metal for it and design its engine. You had to pave the road on which you drove it. The number of things we take for granted because someone else in human civilization has done them for us is mind boggling. We cannot live without one another.

And yet, we humans perpetually want a divorce from one another. We don’t want to care for each other. It’s too much work. It’s too much trouble. Besides, I don’t even like those people. I don’t want my neighbors to thrive. I hate them. They frighten me. They want too much from me. I want a divorce. And that’s when the system starts to break down.


Don’t take my word for it. Just look at the world we live in. We are divided, conflicted, hostile towards one another in countless ways. Nation vs. nation. Race vs. race. Men vs. women. Young vs. old. We perpetually seek the divorce from those we are pledged to care for and it’s just as bitter as anything that make take place between two estranged spouses. Perhaps even more so. (I can't think of any failed marriages that led to the deaths of millions like our wars often do.)

Even the story that immediately follows our OT text reflects this division and brokenness. We know that story well. Eve takes the apple, gives some to Adam, they eat in defiance of God’s command. And when God inquires as to why, all they do is blame. “You gave me this woman and she did it. The snake did it. It’s not my fault.” Once again, we refuse to take responsibility. Not for ourselves and not for one another.

This is a big part of why Jesus came. This is sin. This is how it manifests in the world. We divide. We separate. We divorce. From God and also from one another. So what does Christ do? He seeks to bind us together again. We prays to his Father in the High Priestly Prayer that we “be one.” That this language reflects the marriage covenant is not coincidental.

Nor is it coincidence that we often speak of the celebration of Christ’s return as a marriage feast. Who is getting married? Christ and the Church. And yet, Jesus himself tells us that in this world, we find him in the last, the least, and the lost. Matthew records his famous story (Matthew 25: 31-46) that Jesus is in the imprisoned, the sick, the poor, and all those we are so often eager to divide away from. Our union with God in Christ and our union with our neighbors are intertwined. We cannot be one with God unless we are one with our fellow human beings.

So what then are we to do? Christ has come. He has lived, died, and defeated death on our behalf. He has, as per his half of the marriage covenant, taken care of us. Now he calls us to do the same for others, for our neighbors. And yet look at the world we live in. In this world, we don’t treat young people right. We don’t treat people of color right. We don’t treat LGBT right. And we don’t treat women right, particularly those who are victims of sexual abuse and assault. We don’t treat the poor right. We don’t treat the aged right. We don’t treat the sick right. The list is endless. We are constantly divorcing ourselves from those God has called us to love, to care about, to take responsibility for. And that’s wrong. This is not God’s plan for our world.

We are free because Christ took our sins upon himself and died on a cross. He did this out of love for us. But like the ancient Israelites, our freedom comes with a responsibility. We are to love our neighbors, our enemies, all those who are not like us, because Christ died for them out of love just as much as he did us. We cannot cheapen his sacrifice by turning our backs upon those who need us. For we are truly one family. We are all beloved of our Father. And he wants us to act like it. Will we? I leave that question for you to answer. Amen.