Mark 2:1-12
Introduction
In his book “The boy, the mole, the fox, and the horse” Charlie Mackesy opens with a conversation between the boy and the mole.
“Hello” says the boy to the mole. “I’m so small” said the mole.
“Yes”, said the boy, “but you make a huge difference.”
“What do you want to be when you grow up?” asked the mole.
“Kind” said the boy.
“What do you think success is?” asked the boy. “To love” said the mole.
With the turn of the page the reader sees a picture of the mole and a cake, to which the mole says, “Well… hello.”
The boy then asks, “Do you have a favorite saying?”
“Yes” said the mole.
“What is it?”
“If at first you don’t succeed… have some cake.”
“I see. Does it work?”
“Every time.”
“I got you a delicious cake” said the mole.
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
“Where is it?”
“I ate it” said the mole.
“Oh,” said the boy.
“But I got you another.”
“Did you? Where is that one?”
“The same thing seems to have happened.”
“What do you think is the biggest waste of time?” asked the boy.
“Comparing yourself to others,” said the mole.
The boy responds saying, “I wonder if there is a school of unlearning.”
“Most of the old moles I know wish they had listened less to their fears and more to their dreams.”
“What is that over there?” asked the boy.
“It is the wild,” said the mole. “Don’t fear it.”
And the chapter ends, unnoted as to whether the boy or the mole says, “Imagine how we would be if we were less afraid.”
I was so struck by this first chapter of this simple yet unique book. Its simple wisdom is all something we’ve heard and know to be true and right, but isn’t always taken to heart.
What do you want to be when you grow up? Kind. What do you think success is? To love. What do you think is the biggest waste of time? Comparing yourself to others. What is that over there? The wild— don’t fear it. I wonder if there is a school of unlearning. And maybe the wisest wisdom of all… If at first you don’t succeed… have some cake.
Move 1
This short book—this one chapter—hit me square in the mouth this summer causing me to realize that for weeks—nay years—I have been working on, and working toward sabbatical. That’s kind of ironic isn’t it? Working on… working for…Sabbath—a time of holy rest.
And truth be told for much of that time I felt I wasn’t working hard enough on or for this Sabbath. People were asking me: What are you going to do? How are the plans coming? And it all was cultivating a fear that for a long time went unseen yet always lingering.
I knew several ministers who had taken sabbaticals and they were complete with soul searching, spirit filling, academic, thrilling, spectacular, exotic, and life changing experiences.
A good friend and colleague went on an African Safari. Another did a long silent and meditative retreat that broke him to his core, but then built him back up. Another traveled with her family to Spain and France—another to Israel. Another wrote devotionals and prepped a year-long sermon series. And each of them came back from their sabbatical renewed, rejuvenated, energized, spiritually rooted, and creatively inspired—and so were their congregations, feeling as if they too had gotten a new injection of energy and insight. Both pastor and church had a new song in their hearts—a Lily Endowment tagline question for this program: “What will make your heart sing?”
And all of this made me wonder…and it made me fear… would this sabbatical do the same for me? Would it do the same for you? What if it doesn’t? What if during sabbatical I realize I don’t want to come back? What if during sabbatical the church realizes they don’t want me to come back!? (You didn’t change the door code so I figured I was good.) What if, after all this work, all this time, all this money spent… it wasn’t successful? What if it didn’t produce renewal, rejuvenation, energy, deeper spiritual roots, and creative inspiration? What if after it was all said and done there was no song in our hearts?
I was putting a lot of pressure on myself, both before and during, to make it what I thought it had to be—what others had made theirs to be. But what I forgot—because as I said last week I was trying to be the potter and not the clay—I forgot this time could be all those life changing experiences, but they could not, nor should not be deemed successful or not successful based on what others did. I was comparing myself to other pastors and comparing this church to other churches—forgetting that such is a waste of time. I was defining success by a false and shallow metric and not by love for family, ministry, congregation, or God. I was in the wild but filled with fear. But I didn’t have to be. And when I finally realized this— that is when I finally entered the school of unlearning. And when I entered that school the first thing I did was have some cake.
Move 2
Our text for today is one of my favorite stories in the Gospels. Both Mark and Luke tell it in strikingly similar ways, Mark, however, concludes with that rich line, “We have never seen anything like this!”
It’s easy to interpret that line as the people being amazed at never having seen anyone healed in such a miraculous way. And that is certainly a faithful take away from this text. But there is more than having never seen someone healed.
The people had never before seen anything like what the friends of the paralytic had just done. They carried their friend—who knows how far—to Jesus. And when they couldn’t get to him, they carried him to the top of the house, cut and busted out a hole in the roof and lowered him down to Jesus’ feet. The people had never before seen someone speak truth to power like Jesus did to the scribes who questioned and rebuked what he had done. The people had never before seen a home owner watch his property get destroyed—his roof ripped open— and be ok with it.
They were amazed by the faith and determination of those who believed in Jesus. They were amazed that Jesus’ truth and authority were greater than those who claimed to know truth and authority. They were amazed someone would allow such drastic measures be taken—at their expense—so someone could get closer to Jesus. And because of all this amazement, because they saw what they had never seen before, they entered the school of unlearning.
They unlearned that the love of friends—true friends— is conditional or superficial, rather it is fierce and relentless and will not give up. They unlearned that healing and wholeness was not possible by seeing Jesus heal. They unlearned that truth could not be spoken to power by hearing Jesus speak truth to power. They unlearned that you can’t break expectations by seeing a home owner permit people to get closer to Jesus by any means necessary—even if it means they have to cut a hole in his roof. They unlearned fearing the wild—learning instead to be less afraid because the wild is exactly where healing, success and love thrive.
The school of unlearning energized, renewed, and rejuvenated the people around Jesus. It spiritually rooted them and creatively inspired them—all of it leaving them to say, “We have never seen anything like this!”
Move 3
When a pastor and their congregation enters the school of unlearning together they unlearn their old ways of being church. They unlearn how they’ve always done things. They unlearn what they think successful ministry is supposed to look like.
When a pastor and their congregation unlearns all these previous ways of being church they learn to be less afraid and then they learn the church should be like the homeowner where Jesus taught because that homeowner was willing to let strangers tear a hole in his roof so that someone could get closer to Jesus.
That unlearning… that lesson… that model… can become a vision for a church—a vision that, before any ministry plans are done, demands the church ask “Are we a church that is willing to let someone put a hole in our roof so someone can get closer to Jesus?”
This vision—a willingness to let someone put a hole in our roof— is in stark contrast to congregations that are failing—stories of which are legion.
A congregation won’t allow the youth to paint a room in the church because it wouldn’t fit the decor of the building. A congregation won’t nest a Korean congregation because they don’t want the smell of their food lingering in the halls. A congregation won’t consider the changing demographics of its surrounding community because to do so would mean people who don’t look like them would come in.
So it has to be asked of us… Are we a church that is willing to let someone put a hole in our roof so someone can get closer to Jesus?” because if we are not… then what are we doing here?
A vision of a church that allows the roof to be torn off is a powerful way to engage and live out the Gospel—and it presents a compelling, kind, compassionate, faithful, and loving vision for what God calls the church to be, and it causes people to be amazed and say, “We have never seen anything like this!”
Conclusion
Part of this sabbatical was about learning. Learning who we are, what we need to do as a church to be faithful to God’s call. We learned by asking hard questions, and answering them honestly. But there’s another part still to do… We need to enter into the school of unlearning.
Last week I asked “How was your sabbatical?” and invited you to put your responses on two post-it-notes—one for our tree and the other somewhere you can see it each day.
This week I’m asking, “What do we need to unlearn?” and invite you to again, put your response on the two post-it-notes in your bulletin.
What do we need to unlearn so we can be the church God is calling us to be?
Do we need to unlearn our definition of success? Do we need to unlearn comparing ourselves to others is a healthy habit? Do we need to unlearn that “someone else will do it” Do we need to unlearn the way to Jesus must never be messy, uncomfortable, or inconvenient?
By unlearning we grow to be kinder than ever, we succeed at loving deeper, we thrive in the wild without fear. By unlearning, we and others, will be saying, “We have never seen anything like this!” Amen.
Pastoral Prayer, September 25, 2022
Gracious and loving God, we come to you in times of prayer and silence and worship and in the studying of your word, seeking to learn from you, and of you; seeking to learn how to be like Jesus and walk in His ways.
We strive to learn how we can be church, and be your followers who turn people’s lives toward Jesus and not away.
We do this good and faithful work to learn from you so that we are more like you and work to make life on earth a bit more as it is in heaven.
Still, it seems so often when we go into other parts of our world, into other places of being, we are taught ways that run counter to your ways, and we learn these ways of being.
We learn to believe that our way is the best way.
We learn that you love some more than others.
We learn that Jesus’ call to love our neighbor as ourselves has conditions.
We learn to believe these false ways, and learn to forget your truth.
Help us we pray Holy God, to continue to learn of your ways, in the ways of your son our Savior Jesus. Help us to learn, again, that your way, truth, and light always leads to new life for all.
And we pray you help us to unlearn— unlearn the ways that keep us from going deeper into our relationship with you; unlearn the ways that keep us from extending life changing, never before seen kindness and love. Help us to unlearn that to be your follower’s means we will be comfortable.
For we know that when we learn in faithfulness, and unlearn in faithfulness, we will be the followers and the church that offers ministry in ways that will leave us and others saying, “We have never seen anything like this!”
Hear now O God the prayers of our hearts as we offer them in this time of Holy silence.
All this we pray in the name of Jesus the Christ, who taught us to pray saying, “Our…”