Do we know what we want?

For several weeks we have heard Jesus asking those who come to him what they want: the rich young ruler wants eternal life, James and John want glory and honour. Today (in Mark 10:46-52) it is blind Bartimaeus’ turn and he wants mercy. He wants it so badly that he is prepared to throw away his cloak, his only possession, to get it. Where the rich young ruler and the earnest disciples hold on to what they have, Bartimaeus let’s go.

Our Old Testament reading (Jeremiah 31:7-9) looks forward to a time when the kingdom of God, a reign of justice and peace, is restored by putting those who have nothing (the lame and the blind, the women and children), those who are on the margins, in the centre. When their needs are met, the whole community flourishes.

In the well-off West we are often blind to what it is that we really need and to what is required of us if we are to receive it.

As we approach COP26 we may also need our eyes opening to what it we must let go of if we are to receive what we need: a world in which resources and responsibilities are shared.

Today’s readings go to the heart of the human experience: What are we here for? Does our life have meaning and purpose?

In our Old Testament reading Job is railing at God for his suffering. What has he done to deserve this?

In the Gospel this week James and John are arguing over their status; they want to be important; they want to be significant.

In each reading their lives are put in perspective. They are shown, on the one hand, how tiny and insignificant their lives are in the sweep of the universal history and, on the other hand, how this broad view gives them back a different kind of significance. What they achieve and acquire is ultimately worthless, yet their own individual being is part of the great and beautiful sweep of universal history and salvation. When we let go of our egos and accept our innate God-given godliness, we can inhabit our lives as a tiny, yet unique and particular, facet of God’s glorious story.

Today we celebrate Harvest Festival, traditionally a time to give thanks for all we have and to recall that we are creatures who depend upon our creator for sustenance. Yet our readings do not highlight thanksgiving. Instead they emphasise fear; the anxiety that we experience around our material needs and security. The prophet Joel, 2:21-27, tells even the land and the animals not to fear; they are made and sustained by God and will be blessed with abundance and fruitfulness. In our gospel, Matthew 6:25-33, it is we who are reassured. Jesus goes further than the prophet Joel; yes, yes, the necessities of life will be provided, but more than this our security and well-being, our flourishing, is not dependent upon material prosperity. If we are to experience fruitfulness and abundance it is by understanding that we need more than physical sustenance and that our truest identity is found by participating in God’s reign.

It is tempting to skip to the end of today’s Gospel reading (Mark 10:2-16) and focus on the image of Jesus with the child in his arms whilst missing out all the difficult talk of divorce and adultery. The hard talk, however, gets to the heart of Jesus’ message: it is not that Jesus is fixated on rules and laws; what he is concerned about is our hearts. Do we have a heart for those who are vulnerable?

The work of God is not always taking place where we expect or in ways that are familiar to us. In both our readings today (Numbers 11: 4-6,10-16,24-29 and Mark 9:38-50) the people of God witness others bearing the fruit of God’s spirit yet struggle to accept it because they are not the usual suspects, not part of their group.

The Spirit blows where it will and it is often most powerfully at work outside of religious structures and organisations. Perhaps one of the reasons for this is found in the way the Church can interpret Jesus’ hard saying in Mark: “if your eye offend you pluck it out… better to enter life maimed.” This saying has been used to support a judgmental theology that encourages people to discard their “bad bits” and conform to some version of moral goodness. But here’s the thing, we are all maimed in one way or another and it is our wounds that open us to life, to God and to one another. A community of faith that accepts and welcomes the broken and the maimed in us liberates us from trying to confirm to an externally imposed perfect goodness and allows us to uncover and share our own imperfect goodness.

When life is tough it is tempting to resort to soothing assurances, but today’s readings both encourage brutal honesty. The prophet Jeremiah, 11:18-20, writing at the time of the exile, the destruction of his people, his homeland and his hopes, speaks honestly to God of his despair, his fear and his desire for retribution. Both the people and their God need to voice how bad things are, how wounded they are, before they can rebuild.

In the gospel passage, Mark 9:30-37, Jesus is again telling hard truths to his followers, that his path is to suffer, and they do not want to hear. In response he puts a child in their midst as their instructor and guide. A child knows that she is not in control of her life, that she cannot will things to be as she wishes. Instead she must learn to trust, and trust can only be built on truth, however hard it is to hear.

Isaiah 50:4-9a Who are we and what are we here for? The prophet recognises that all that he is, is given by God and that delighting in his unique createdness allows him to do what he was made for. Who God is answers the question of who we are.

Mark 8:27-38 The passage centres around the Jesus’ question to the disciples “who do YOU say that I am” but the point of the passage is who we are. Jesus is the example of someone who is fully human. To become fully human and so to become fully ourselves we need to follow Christ’s example and give ourselves entirely to what God calls us to do. This inevitably feels like losing ourselves but in the process we find ourselves.