Wednesday, June 6, 2018

Are You Crazy? (Reflections on Pentecost 3, Year B)


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“When his family heard it, they went out to restrain him, for people were saying, ‘He has gone out of his mind.’” (Mark 3:21) 

Some folks just act crazy at times. Back in the early ‘70’s, my sister Maryanne was an authentic, card-carrying Jesus Freak. You remember Jesus Freaks, right? They were a bunch of hippie-looking kids (You remember hippies, right?) who, instead of preaching sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll, were getting high on the Gospel. They met in storefront churches, sang folk rock praise tunes, carried their Bibles everywhere, and went around with shockingly joyful and peaceful attitudes. They held a certain disdain for the established church which they saw as being stuffy and irrelevant. They were as much a part of the counter-culture as their zoned-out, doobie-toking, war-protesting, anti-establishment contemporaries. 

My sis joined their ranks to the shock and horror of our parents. She started going to Bible studies and church services almost nightly. She went to the breath-bereaving extremity of getting baptized a second time—an act tantamount to sacrilege to my Lutheran mother—and began to claim that some people at our local Lutheran congregation might not be “saved.” When the Yom Kippur War broke out in 1973, she listened attentively to the radio reports, believing that this might be a sign of the End Times and the Second Coming. 

Crazy? Maybe. But even Jesus was accused of being crazy by his own family. Zeal for the things of God, for righteousness, can look pretty weird to “normal” people who don’t experience it. In the Gospel lesson in the Revised Common Lectionary appointed for Pentecost 3, Year B (Mark 3:20-35), Jesus’ mom and siblings are alarmed that he’s preaching and drawing a crowd. It just doesn’t seem right to them. The high religious muckety-mucks even claim that he’s possessed by Beelzebul! 

So how can you tell what’s “normal” and what isn’t? When does a loving religious family of fellow believers become a cult, or when does extreme piety turn into coo-coo for Coco Puffs? 

I’m going to suggest that we look at two factors: what are you willing to believe and how passionate are you about believing it?  

Here’s some examples: Some folks don’t believe anything that isn’t empirically verifiable. They are, however, extremely passionate about not believing, and they think the rest of us should join them in their unbelief. They’re sort of zealous evangelists for atheism. Then there are the ones who don’t believe anything, but don’t know they don’t believe anything because they never think about anything. (We call them teenagers.) There are also those who are all up and through supernatural mysticism—angels, faith healing, crystals, the zodiac, UFO’s, the Rapture, whatever you’ve got—but only when the subject comes up, or if they find themselves in a crisis. In times of trouble they turn to anything. They try to bargain with God. There are others who might rationally try to weigh mysticism with skepticism, but only when they’re forced to go to church on Christmas and Easter—or when the doctor tells them they have cancer. 

For my part, I try to be in dialogue between the mystery of God and my own common sense. But I don’t want to be too rational about it. I love having this mental conversation, and I want to have it all the time. I actually envy the mystics and the ancient hermits, and all of those who could live only for Christ. And maybe that’s crazy. 

I guess it’s the people whose religious fervor is so great that it keeps them from actually enjoying life who probably should seek professional help. In our Gospel story Jesus does not come to imprison people, but to set them free. He’s overpowering and tying up the “strong man”—our sense of sin and guilt, our stubbornness, our prejudice, our desire to be in control and make ourselves into God—so that all the things that are horded away—love, acceptance, joy—can be liberated. He’s here to cast out the things which make us afraid and sick and discouraged so that there’s room in our lives for the Holy Spirit. 

My crazy sister didn’t stay crazy for long. In fact, not many of the Jesus Freaks of the early ‘70’s did. Today those storefront churches are now multi-million dollar mega churches where nobody comes in bare feet, kids under twelve are not permitted, and worship is conducted with slick and glitzy sound systems and video displays. My sister traded the storefronts for fairly active participation in the Lutheran church. In later years she joined a Baptist congregation and was active there, too. She may have lost a bit of her counter-cultural zeal, but she never stopped being crazy for Jesus.

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