15-16 Feb 2020, Christ Mountain Top
Praying the Scripture, Psalm 25:11-22 (insert)
Sung response: Gloria (8:30 only)
Children, Mark 4.35-41 (disciples in storm to Jesus)
Message, Luke 10.38-42 (Martha to Jesus)
Story: Tornado, freight train, me sleeping
“Aren’t you concerned?”
Today we return to our series of messages unpacking the promise of Advent and Christmas, of Emmanuel, “God with us.” Each week we have approached the text from the focus point of a particular question in the text. The first week, it was the question of John the baptizer to Jesus when Jesus came for baptism: “Do you come to me?” The question points out that Jesus chooses to identify with outsider sinners, that he has “friends in low places.” The second week, the questions were those to the man and woman in the garden and then to one of their sons: “Where are you?” “Where is your brother?” These questions expose our basic conflicts with God and with each other and call us to the practice of reconciliation in conflict. Then we had “Where is the house you will build for me?” This question from the prophet Isaiah points out that God’s dwelling place is among us, that we are God’s house. And even if we are fixer-uppers, God is not waiting to move in. Two weeks ago, we had the question, “When did we… see you?” That story calls us to see Jesus, to meet Jesus, in the poor and marginalized and to be with them.
Today, we have a question that shows up several times in the Scripture: “Aren’t you concerned?” In the storm at sea, the disciples are afraid that they are going to die. Jesus is sleeping. “Aren’t you concerned?” Martha is toiling away in the kitchen getting more and more frustrated that she is getting no help. It is entirely unfair, so she dumps on Jesus, “Aren’t you concerned?”
The question raises our trust/mistrust issues, our separation anxieties, our bad relationship history, our experience with people who should care but don’t, our many fears. The question also exposes the ways we are obsessed with ourselves and completely oblivious to people around us, even oblivious to God with us.