The Park Road Pulpit

  Sermons from Park Road Baptist Church 

      Russ and Amy Jacks Dean, Pastors

 

When the Church Speaks Too Loudly[1]

Mark 1.40-45

Russ Dean, February 16, 2003

 

            When he heard the Priest speak the word, his heart stopped. What would his friends think? Who would tell his wife and family? Who would take care of them? With the pronouncement of the word he would not even be allowed to return home to offer his love, his apology, his prayer for their Shalom. The world began to spin around him. A darkening haze began to surround him, closing in on his vision. He could almost see the word glaring at him. It was like solid darkness, at the end of a long, cold tunnel.

            The word -- "leprosy" -- was hideous. Seven letters. The number seven in his religion signified perfection or completeness, and it was:  Perfect isolation. Complete hell. The word had always stirred emotions. He had uttered it himself, when "they" had drawn dangerously near to his family or himself.[2] Fear, hatred, rejection, pity, he was never quite sure, but he, and everyone else in his world, knew there was no word like it. It was a sentence of death, yet worse. An executioner's sword would have been welcome -- for this sentence was without end and torturous, and not only for the one sentenced, but for those who were left behind. The wife of a leprous husband -- a widow. The children of an unclean father -- orphans. And his world was “cruel and unusual” to widows and orphans.

 

            Now he was tired. The attack of words had lasted long. The word's abuse seemed to never cease. And worse, it had even begun to shout at him from somewhere deep within. Together these voices from without and within formed a monotonous chorus of punishments which never eased: Unclean. (They said.) Unworthy. (He felt.) Outcast. Deserving. Untouchable. Guilty...

            Leper!

            It seemed a bad dream. A day-long, night-long terror which was broken by the words which the Holy man spoke. As if snapping his fingers to end some hypnotic trance, when he heard the words, the leper awoke. "You must go, now."

            He hesitated. So Jesus stepped forward and put his arms around him. "Go now. Go to the Priest." The leper's mind raced back, across years of haunting words, to the other Priest long ago, and to the word that had begun this nightmare. Could it really be over? Would the Priest now really pronounce a new word which would free his life? Would the leper actually hear the word “clean” after all these years of praying? He was numb from the word which now taunted him with a promise to give back his life.[3]

As he turned, this Jesus spoke again, but this time, gone was the compassion in his tone, the kindness in his eyes. He spoke harshly to the man with the pure, white skin. "Tell no one. Go to the Priest and offer what Moses commanded. But do not say a word of this."

 

            Malcolm Marler works in Birmingham at the "1917 Clinic." Malcolm works with lepers. Not those afflicted with actual leprosy, of course. Technically known as "Hansen's Disease," true leprosy, which is a bacterial infection, is rare today, as it was in Jesus' day as well. Probably no one in the New Testament who was cleansed of leprosy actually suffered from Hansen's Disease. However, psoriasis, leucodermia, ringworm, molds, fungi and any number of other skin conditions could be diagnosed as leprosy – for that matter, even clothes and homes could be leprous – but the treatment was always the same. Alienation. Estrangement. Exile.

            Malcolm told me once of a counseling session with a young woman whom he called Jennifer. Jennifer had recently heard that word from her doctor: Human Immunodeficiency Virus -- HIV. Jennifer had been innocently, unknowingly infected, yet her family had still pronounced her "unclean." Her father would no longer speak to her. She was not allowed to touch her nieces and nephews. As she paced the floor, she burst into tears as she asked, "Will anyone ever touch me again?" As a minister, Malcom knows proper protocol, yet despite this, he stood and walked to her. He opened his arms and held her there in a long, strong embrace while her tears soaked his shirt sleeve.

            Malcolm offered compassion. Malcolm dared to reach out and touch. Malcolm ventured to express the love of Christ in a bold and a caring way... but Malcolm could not cure her. When she left that day, she was still infected and estranged from much of the world.

            What do you think Jennifer would have done had Malcolm been able to give back her purity? Had his touch wiped out this nightmarish chapter which would become the last in her young life? What would she have done -- even if he had said, "Shsh... don't tell a soul"?

            The leper responded, I think, like Jennifer would have responded had she been cured. Maybe as we all would respond. He backed slowly from Jesus and then he turned. Away from Jesus, his stride soon quickened, and as soon as he crested the first hill and Jesus' silhouette disappeared, I can imagine that he began to laugh, and then to cry, and then to babble to himself like an excited child, and upon meeting the very first person in the way shouted at the top of his lungs... "Look at me! I'm clean. And JESUS did it!"

            The leper is often acquitted for this little transgression with hardly a thought, because his great joy was translated into a loud proclamation of the gospel. Especially if you grew up Baptist, you were undoubtedly encouraged to consider how you had also been touched by the Christ, and to "shout it out." [4]

 

            But let's look at the story a little differently today. You do that as well as any congregation I know. I ask you to consider your voice, and our Voice as the voice of the Church in America today. For the story really says that the man who was touched, looked straight into the face of God and said, "Thanks for the favor... but from here on out... I'll do it my way!" And the scripture says because of this "Jesus [had to keep] to out-of-the-way places... [for he was] no longer able to move freely in and out of the city..."

            Did the leper's bold proclamation advance Jesus' cause? Or was his loud evangelism really a cause of embarrassment to Jesus and a hindrance to the Gospel? What about your voice? What about the voice of the Church today?

            Many preachers would have us believe that the world is going to "hell in a hand-basket." And that we are being directed down that road by the loud voices of the gods of secular entertainment and liberal media. Perhaps the Church, too, has been seduced by the ride. Instead of following the rules for discipleship and evangelism which Christ made clear, has the Church been "suckered-in" to the world's noisy battle, seeking to match note for note, pitch for pitch, jab for jab in a war whose victory has already been declared? Declared by One who speaks in a still, small voice. On this train bound for nowhere, has the Church just become one more lure, one more glitzy attraction? In the din of voices which America has become is the Church Speaking Too Loudly?

 

            In a world of capitalism, advertising is king. (How many of you watched the Super Bowl, as I did, more for the commercials than the football?!)  Perhaps John Kenneth Galbraith has rightly suggested that the purpose of advertising is to get us to buy things we don't need and to feel good about it.[5] David Wilcox is a musician from the mountains of North Carolina who takes a crack at this industry in his song entitled "Advertising Man."

If you want some real contentment to live life at its best, you can buy these dried tobacco leaves to breathe into your chest. And then look up at the billboard while all the promises come true for you.

 

You'll feel alive with pleasure, playful as a child, you've come to where the freedom is --  you're "cool & mild." You'll laugh with every lung-full as the change comes over you.

 

Those portraits of pleasure, of those who like to smoke, they're laughing in the photographs and we don't get the joke. Now why would they be smiling while they're looking down our way?

 

I guess they're making easy money and climbing up the rungs from selling us a parasite that's feeding on our lungs. They must be laughing in astonishment that we believe the things they say.

 

Now crack will kill you quickly that's why it's got to go, (but) they'll get more of your money if they kill you nice and slow. Yea, the only one who's laughing is the advertising man!

 

Chorus: So look up at the billboard, see her smilin', sexy, and tan, but the only one who's laughing is the advertising man![6]

 

            Wilcox’s song is a scathing critique -- the smokers in the crowd will understandably not appreciate his sarcasm – but the song is not a jab at you as much as it is a criticism of all of us -- our inability to be fend off the great cons of the advertising god. And the Church of America is in real danger of completely losing its authentic voice, because it too is now crying wildly in the streets, advertising God with the same racket and rancor, and often with the same tactics and scruples as its "competitors." Churches across the country are, in fact, seeking advice and developing evangelistic strategies from secular marketeers and "ad men.” And, these tactics work. The "mega churches" of recent years are proof in the pudding. But what I want to know is how much of the Church is left when the market gets through shaping it? If the market brings you to the Church – is it the Church, or the Market that you find, when you get there?

 

            Let me give a few quick examples. 1) Billboard advertising. You have no doubt seen some of the "messages from God" which have been wildly popular across the country in the past year or so. My "favorite" one I noticed one summer -- "Whew! You think its hot here! -- God" 2) Christian Music. Begun by a few "Jesus Freaks" in the sixties Contemporary Christian Music is now a multi-million dollar a year industry that competes successfully for the "rock and roll" and country dollar. 3) The T-shirt and trinket industry. I met a young man in a mall a few years ago whose T-shirt read, "Can you smell me?" I took the bait and turned to read on the back, "...for I am the aroma of Christ (2 Corinthians 2.15)." Finally 4) The Bumper Sticker War. Since the days of "Honk if you love Jesus," bumpers have been targeted by eager traffic evangelists as opportunities to speak a bold witness. In recent years I have enjoyed observing what I call the "fish fights." First was the plain fish emblem. Then the "Jesus fish." And then I started noticing a curious little guy... with feet. Have you seen him? It is obviously shaped to imitate the "Christian fish," yet this fish possesses two feet and is inscribed with the name "Darwin." Most recently I have noticed a larger "Truth fish" swallowing a smaller, obviously weaker "Darwin fish."

            These are only a few examples of the ways in which it might be said that the Christian world is running away from Jesus, like the leper, in an ever-crescendoing cry of the name of the One who said, "Tell no one."

            What Would Jesus Do? I believe that in the midst of the increasing noise and the growing hostility of the Church's competition with the secular world he would speak angrily as he spoke to the leper, and probably in a whisper... "I thought I told you... tell no one!?"

 

            Jesus believed in evangelism. In fact he died whispering its final message: "It is (completed)."[7] The kingdom of God had come, but in Christ it had steadfastly refused to make its entry on the stage of political, military, economic, or even religious standards. Instead, the Kingdom came with two simple words. Two simple words which made all the difference, because behind them was a human being, quiet, yet confident, who believed what he spoke, and who acted on what he believed, even when it cost him his very life. There were no flashy commercials or catchy billboards, no contemporary tunes or fashionable, yet "Christian," clothes to wear. There was only a voice and a life which matched it, which made a simple offer: “Follow Me.”[8]

            I, too, believe in evangelism. In a world wrenched by daily doses of fear and suspicion and the threats, real or exaggerated, of terrorism and war, the Good News of Jesus is needed. The Church must speak.[9] But this text gives us much-needed insight into how we should speak. In this world, the Church must speak, but its voice will only be heard as an authentic good word if it is preached by followers of Jesus who, following his example, are willing to offer their own lives as collateral for their own words -- Follow me.

            When Jesus sent the leper away in silence, he sent him... to the church. (Go tell the Priest.) Evangelism should be done by the church, in the church. Lamar Williamson has strong words about the church and its evangelism:

This scripture offers firm guidelines... for the church and for individual Christians. [Should we offer] ministries of healing? Yes. Opposition to disease and efforts to eradicate it? Yes. Compassion for those who suffer? Yes. Campaigns to gather crowds, win converts, and boost personalities (including that of Jesus)? No.[10]

 

            If the church were more serious about integrating the lives of its members into ministries of compassion and care in the spirit of Jesus Christ, instead of looking for more volume and more glitz to project his name into the mix, we would need no advertising. Despite the leper's evangelism, the scripture affirms "... the people still came to Jesus."

            Jesus needs no advertising, no commercializing... for the scripture says, "even the rocks would cry out...[11] the message of God if we did not. The Living Word of God will be known -- the question is, “Will the Church -- will our church -- be a voice that offers that Good Word?”

 

            Jesus is not a commodity, to be bought and sold. Jesus is not a product to be pitched and marketed. Jesus is a Way -- to be walked. A Truth -- to be known. A Life -- to be lived. Perhaps if we could be quiet long enough for him to speak, the world might come to know why it is that Christians through the ages have called him, "The Way, The Truth, The Life..."[12]

            Just as Jesus charged the Leper, so I charge you this day -- Tell no one!

 


 

Let Us Pray

   O God our Living Word

     for thousands of years

     the message

       has not been heard

       and yet we try, still,

         in louder and louder voices

         in increasingly catchy and commercialized ways

          to make them hear.

 

    Forgive us O God

    when we cannot even recognize

      that it is not that their ears do not work

        but that their eyes do.

 

    Give us the conviction this day, then,

    the courage to pray for strength

      to walk the walk

      that Jesus might speak again

        in our quiet compassion,

       And through the power of our love.

 

    We pray through the Christ

      who spoke not a word[13]

      but whose Cross is our Way.

 

Amen!

 

 


 

[1] I originally preached this sermon on February 6, 2000 at Mountain Brook Baptist Church.

[2] In the ancient world lepers often roamed the land together. When they approached anyone who was “clean,” they were required to announce their presence by yelling “unclean” or “leper,” thus giving ample notice so that the person(s) would not be made unclean.

[3] In the ancient world words had great power. To speak a curse, for example, was to speak a word which became a living action – words had great power of naming and claiming. I allude here to this power, as to the powerful Christian term “Logos” or “Living Word,” which in Jesus becomes a metaphor of the very incarnate work of God in our world.

[4] When I first preached this sermon, Kirk Warner and the Los Angeles Rams had just won the Super Bowl. In a post-game interview, Warner shouted out his faith for the television world, “Thank you, Jesus!”

[5] A meditation in today’s bulletin includes this quotation: “The basic purpose of advertising is to get people to buy something they don’t need. Apparently, the purveyors of the electronic church think the values of the gospel are so obscure that only the hard sell can move them off the shelf. Slogans, pop songs, glad names, bad names, stacking the cards, the bandwagon – every technique basic to advertising is part of the stock-in-trade of the electronic church, which is, indeed, selling something people don’t need – a superficial, magical God.” I used this quotation the first time I preached the sermon, but did not record the source, though it comes from John Kenneth Galbraith.

 

[6] David Wilcox, from the release, “Home Again,” 1991.

[7] John 19.30, “It is finished.” Christian scholars interpret Jesus’ word here not as an note of failure (“It is over”), but of victory (“My work is complete.”)

[8] These words are found frequently in the gospels. See Mark 8.34.

[9] Many people will be frustrated or confused by the closing line of this sermon, but I am reminded by a friend that “All truth is but half truth.” Today’s sermon addresses what I consider a significant issue in the life of the contemporary church. In response to the sermon when I first preached it, I suggested that should I preach regularly, I would like to follow the sermon with one entitled, “When the Church Doesn’t Speak Loudly Enough.” And, now that I do preach regularly… stay tuned for next week’s message!

[10] Lamar Williamson, Interpretation, "Mark," p.62.

[11] See Habakkuk 2.11 and Luke 19.40.

[12] John 14.6.

[13] Isaiah 53.7.

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