On Your Mark

As part of a discipleship initiative at our Church in Nacogdoches, FirstNac UMC, I was asked to contribute to daily devotions which are emailed to visitors and members of FirstNac, as well as posted every day on social media platforms. These devotions include a scripture passage, a teaching based on the passage by a member of the church, and a reflection and prayer written by one of several contributors, also church members. In the past nine months that I have been writing these reflections, I have found that I enjoy the challenge of being assigned scriptural passages that are, alternately, and sometimes altogether, unfamiliar, opaque, beautiful, sad, and perplexing. 

What follows is one such passage I was assigned through the course of this initiative, along with my reflection on its words and stories as they speak to me. 

Mark 9:38-50

“Teacher,” said John, “we saw someone driving out demons in your name and we told him to stop, because he was not one of us.”

“Do not stop him,” Jesus said. “For no one who does a miracle in my name can in the next moment say anything bad about me, for whoever is not against us is for us. Truly I tell you, anyone who gives you a cup of water in my name because you belong to the Messiah will certainly not lose their reward.

“If anyone causes one of these little ones—those who believe in me—to stumble, it would be better for them if a large millstone were hung around their neck and they were thrown into the sea. If your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off. It is better for you to enter life maimed than with two hands to go into hell, where the fire never goes out. And if your foot causes you to stumble, cut it off. It is better for you to enter life crippled than to have two feet and be thrown into hell. And if your eye causes you to stumble, pluck it out. It is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than to have two eyes and be thrown into hell, where,

“‘the worms that eat them do not die,
    and the fire is not quenched.’

Everyone will be salted with fire.

“Salt is good, but if it loses its saltiness, how can you make it salty again? Have salt among yourselves and be at peace with each other.”

Dreaded by the uncompetitive, highly anticipated by the athletic and coordinated, yet required for all. That time-honored tradition which, at least, got students out of the classroom for a while, even if that meant spending the day in the oven-hot sun (at least in Texas):

Field Day!

Split up into teams, a different color shirt for each, 5-gallon orange Igloo coolers full of iced-down water (or Gatorade, if you were lucky), burlap sacks and batons to pass, roped off courses with flapping ribbons marking the finish line. Field Day.

Although I have only vague memories of my own Field Days growing up (if you’re interested, I was one of those uncompetitive kids who just wanted it to end), I have attended a couple of these as a spectator for my own children, and it is fascinating to witness the shift from classmates to competitors that happens when they put on those different colored shirts and are herded toward others that are dressed like them. Purple over here, yellow over there, orange further away still. And the jeering and taunting begin.

On your marks, get set, GOOO!

And quite suddenly, it’s Us against Them. Divisions, rankings, hierarchies are born where only a bunch of ponytailed, scab-kneed, missing-front-teeth kids once existed. School spirit is trampled to dust as arms pump and friends are left behind, and now it’s “Yellow Team rules!” and “Purple Team wins!” and “Orange Team will crush you!” Nevermind that every kindergartener through fourth-grader sat in an assembly the day before, criss-cross, knee-to-knee, and were told by the principal that that they are all winners, all important to the school and each other, and should all act accordingly out on the field the following day.

On your marks, get set… open the doors of the sanctuary! Church is over! Out to the field! What is your color’s war cry? Who are you ready to beat?

Which team are you on?

Is the Principal left standing in the doorway, shaking His head as we hurry to divide ourselves? As we turn on each other, even though we will all be held accountable for our actions, our love, our hate, our indifference, when we all return to the same schoolhouse, the same classrooms, one day?

I know our traditions, doctrines, and styles differ. I know our logos clash. I know our holy details rankle each other. But one day, when the ribbons have all been broken by proud, heaving chests, the batons are dropped in the dirt and forgotten, once the sweaty, multicolored T-shirts are yanked over our heads and dropped in hampers (or, let’s be honest, in the corner of the room), whose team will we be on? Will we be able to shake tug-of-war-rope-burned hands with each other, knowing that we represented all the best of our God, of His Son, to everyone we meet? Or will we still be swatting away outstretched hands, grumpy that we couldn’t seem to get it together in the 3-legged race?

In the above Mark passage, Jesus has strong, disturbing words and images for those who fail to heed his exhortation to love and support one another, to not cause others to stumble or fall. These aren’t suggestions or guidelines. They are commands, ones that we will one day be held accountable for as his ambassadors in a broken, divided world.

Will we further break and divide, or will we cheer each other on, help each other up when our sneakers trip over the uneven turf, and high five each other at the end of the day, yelling, “Good race!” no matter what team we’re on?

God,

Our culture demands that we divide ourselves, pit you against me, all in the name of winning. God, open our eyes to realize that no one of us has a lock on your truth or love. We are all on the same team, and you desire for us to act accordingly. Bless us so we can bless others, and teach us when we need schooling.

In Christ’s holy name,

Amen.