Some time ago, while I was working for an insurance company, I came up with many conclusions about human nature, one of which is this: two people can witness the same accident but describe two totally different events. The mind can do funny things when forced to remember a traumatic occasion. One such account from a female client I remember indicated that the vehicle that backed into hers had to have been upside-down to match the physical damage. When asked by the adjuster, “Ma'am, was the vehicle that struck yours upside-down?” the claimant replied, “Of course not.” But she stuck to her account, anyway. I do not mean to suggest she was lying; no, she was simply retelling the accident as she recalled it.
The three-year Lectionary schedule changes now from reading the Gospel According to Matthew to Mark. So, we are saying good-bye to Matthew and “hello” to Mark. There is at least one big difference between these two Gospels. The narrative of salvation history (Christ was born, Christ died, Christ has risen and will return again) remains the same. But the stories are told a little differently from each other. Matthew is wordy and goes to great lengths to explain. Mark is concise and to the point. Matthew recalls in depth Jesus’ birth through the life of Joseph. Mark doesn’t even mention the nativity. Matthew describes how Jesus made appearances after death, ascended into heaven, and commissioned the disciples to teach and baptize to the ends of the earth. Mark’s version more or less ends with the tomb. For those who are familiar with poetry, Matthew wrote an epic poem about Jesus while Mark wrote a Haiku. You can read Mark’s Gospel in one sitting. It’s fast paced, riveting, and, well, short. It would be a mistake, however, to judge Mark by size alone. He employs a writing technique that I call missional interruption. It fits the life of Jesus because he was always on the move and got interrupted along the way. Each interruption ends up being a key educational point. For example, in Chapter 5, Jesus arrived on the shore to find a crowd assembled to hear him. As he began to speak, he was interrupted; a synagogue leader, Jairus, begged Jesus to heal his daughter. Jesus left the crowd to go to Jairus’ home. Along the way, a woman who had suffered hemorrhages her whole life said to herself, “If I simply touch his clothes, I will be made well.” She interrupted Jesus again and received healing; as he did so often, Jesus took the opportunity to teach his disciples a lesson about faith, then healed Jairus’ daughter, and then returned to preach. Whew! What a day. Mark’s account can be viewed as Jesus-the-multi-tasker. Maybe that is a good lesson for today’s ministry – be prepared to multi-task! There are four witnesses, or accounts, of Jesus’ life and ministry in the New Testament. Each one is a little different from the others but each maintains a central theme of salvation. Speaking from an insurance perspective, it is remarkable (and highly unlikely) to find four separate accounts of any set of events, let alone the entirety of Jesus’ life, that are so similar. I consider us lucky that the Church fathers didn’t compile all four accounts into one narrative which was one theory of how they should be presented. Instead, they accounts were kept separate. So, let us gather together and welcome Mark’s account into our spiritual lives for the next year. Welcome, Mark! -Fr. Marshall This past summer, the Marshall family traveled to the Seattle area to celebrate my parents’ 50th wedding anniversary. Our trip took us through one of Washington’s famous ferry systems. It was the first ferry ride for the kids. They loved it. If you are not familiar with Washington’s ferry system, it is based on the fact that Puget Sound is too deep for a bridge between the mainland and nearby islands. Most ferries are car carrying behemoths that appear to swallow cars and then spit them out at the next stop. If only Jonah had had the luck to catch one of these ships instead of being swallowed by a large fish.
In early August, any trip to Whidbey Island will be pleasant and ours was no exception. The boys got out of the car and ran up to the observation deck. We watched as the ferry churned the deep blue salt water into a foamy thundering swirl of white water as we pushed away from the dock. Twenty minutes later, the ferry reversed its engines and gently settled into the destination dock. It is an impressive thing to experience. Here is a picture that was snapped by a friend of a family member at another time. An October storm brought winds above 50 mph and heavy seas. The ferry is over 300 feet long, 78 feet wide, and weighs 4,954,000 pounds, unloaded. It can carry 130 cars on two levels and 1200 passengers. This storm created a battle between ship and sea. During storms, the crew plots a less vulnerable course but at a certain point the captain has to steer into the storm to get to the dock. This picture shows the ferry taking a wave right over the bow undoubtedly washing the cars in sea water and perhaps freeing them from their blocks. It must have been a frightening ride that day. Does the picture remind you of storms that you have gone through in your life? If this were a parable, I’d say that the mission of Christ is the 4.9 million pound ship and challenges in life are the eight foot waves. The ship is going to win and it will get to shore. But sometimes, riding on the ship we know as Christ’s mission means getting a little wet. For us deckhands on the SS Mission Ship, we can’t always see the shore and sometimes the waves feel like they are battering us down. But the captain, seated high up, keeps his eyes on the dock, always mindful of our safety and our destination. As is written in Deuteronomy, “Be strong and courageous; do not be afraid, for the Lord goes with you; he will never leave you or abandon you.” (31:6). -Fr. Marshall I’m writing today in defense of cavemen. I think they get a bad rap. Negative human emotions and instincts inevitability get pushed back on cavemen. Why do boys fight – because of their caveman instincts. Likewise, personality traits that involve basic, self-serving instincts are blamed on our caveman roots. Social scientists say a man who sits on the couch after work and stares at the television does so because of caveman instincts – he leaves the cave in the morning to hunt and when the day is over brings home his gatherings and slumps down in front of the fire. Were there no cavemen who helped out washing dishes and caring for children?
We recorded one segment of a nationally televised morning show about a new archeological dig. Ethan is interested in archeology so we thought he’d enjoy the story. Prior to that, however, they had a psychologist talk about the general feeling in the country that we are busier now than ten years ago. The psychologist pointed to the recession-economy and how many workers are busier than prior to the recession. Talk about ultracrepidarianism, the psychologist’s specialty was cognitive brain functions, not on the macro-economic pressures on the U.S. workforce. And, he left out technology over the past ten years--specifically, the rise of smart phones, social media, and the portability of view-on-demand prime time television shows that have taken over down time. But, I digress. His finding is that Americans take less time to reflect and think and that we are busier than ten years ago. The interviewer asked, “Why do you think that is, doctor?” He replied, “I think it has to do with the caveman brain. In order to survive back then, the caveman had to constantly fidget and do things. We are simply following in our caveman footsteps.” Really, cavemen were fidgeters, restless and impatient? I don’t think so. Besides, even if that were true, wouldn’t we have evolved out of that pattern? No, says the psychologist, he thinks that the busier cavemen succeeded more, would therefore be superior to the others, and eventually took over. I had the pleasure of meeting some quite senior native Americans whose tribes live in the plains states. It’s well-known that Pacific Northwest Indians had plenty of downtime because of the abundance of seafood. They could be sedentary instead of nomadic. In the plains, however, Indians had to be mobile, flexible, and ingenious. The plains Indians I talked to were peaceful and well-rested. Their parents were nomadic and taught them the ways of the tribe yet they were not fidgeters or restless. They knew how and when to work hard and then how to rest and relax. This is in contrast to the psychologist’s ultracrepidarian assumptions about cavemen life. I wonder if the same psychologist would say that Ethan’s enthusiasm for archeology thus has to do with caveman roots, too. Nonetheless, we seem to be busier than ten years ago. I think worship of God in the Episcopal tradition is a bulwark against increasing busyness. The time we spend in worship leaves room for thought and reflection. We can leave our busyness, our fidgeting nature, and our anxieties at the door. When we enter into worship of God, we are told in Scripture to “be still, and know that I am God.” (Ps 46:10) As the escalating busy season of Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year’s looms ahead, let us take time for worship, reflection, prayer, and peace. -Fr. Marshall I am fascinated with words. I like to study root words, origins, and when they were first used. Words are important because they can bring together or divide, inspire or sadden, begin wars and end wars. The first recorded act of God was using words (Let there be light). Jesus is called Logos, which in Greek means... you guessed it – word.
Luckily for me, I occasionally read books that require a dictionary. In the book, Think Like a Freak, the authors, Levitt & Dubner, used this word, “ultracrepidarianism.” It describes someone who offers opinions and advice on matters outside of his or her knowledge. My dictionary used one form of the word in this sentence, “The play provides a classic portrayal of an ultracrepidarian mother-in-law.” The word, with traditional Greek and Latin roots, is broken down in this way: Ultra (beyond) and Crepidam (sole of a sandal). It comes from a Latin phrase from Pliny the Elder, “ne supra crepidam sutor judicare” which means, “let the cobbler not judge above the sandal.” Maybe you’ve met an ultracrepidarianist or perhaps have fallen into the lure of ultracrepidarianism. How easy it is to “judge above the sandal.” I was thinking of this after I freely gave advice to a friend on what the Chargers should have done to avoid losing so badly last Sunday. Clearly I was dispensing advice on a matter outside of my knowledge. Imagine how frustrating it was for Jesus when dealing with ultracrepidarianists. Jesus, the WORD, knows Scripture, knows God, knows the foundations of the world and can even read minds. Nevertheless, leaders of the day would routinely challenge his knowledge. Yet, the nature of Jesus is to be kind. When dealing with challenges, like, “Is it lawful to pay taxes,” or “Whose wife will she be in the resurrection,” Jesus responds with truth and compassion. Unlike Jesus, I get mad at people who condemn others. For instance, some Christians insist they know who is going to heaven and especially who is not. That is an ultra-ultracrepidarian statement. At the risk of slipping into ultracrepidarianism, I think that is clearly judging above the sandal and certainly giving advice outside of one’s own knowledge. The Scriptures, after all, clearly announce that no one knows when Jesus will return and likewise no one can judge who not be in Heaven. I hope that all followers of Christ know his love and trust in his grace. That is certainly knowledge that we can give freely to all without any fear of judging beyond the sandals because we received that Good News from the best authority ever known. -Fr. Marshall |