The Burden of Grace

Mark 8: 34-38
What does it mean to be a Christian? What does it mean to “follow Christ?” Today, we examine a text with deep and meaningful implications for each of us, young and old, strong and weak, educated and ignorant, healthy and sick. There are no pre-requisites, no conditions for “readiness.” All we need is a choice… a decision, a willingness to follow. But I believe that before we can make this decision completely and adequately, we must both understand and carefully contemplate its requirements. For although Grace is free, its acceptance is not. Now, this may seem like quite the radical and heretical claim. But please, before you leave so early in the service, let me at least offer an explanation for such a statement.
We can begin with this: For the heart that is unprepared, Grace is a both a burden and a hindrance.

As we find in the Scripture, Jesus says: “For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me and for the gospel will save it.”

This powerful and transforming claim is not easily or readily accepted, in fact, how many of you considered these words when making decisions to follow Christ? How many of us actually said, “Yes, today is the day I will choose Christ over myself, hardship instead of ease, turmoil and pain instead of comfort and pleasure.”? If you are anything like me, you said, “Jesus, come into my heart so that I might have eternal life, so that I might be saved.” I might as well have asked God to save me from the fiery depths of Hell. I wasn’t committing myself to God, I was asking God to commit to me. I wanted, hoped, and desired for God to bring me the “golden ticket” to heaven. In the back of my mind I may have considered doing certain “churchly” things, but never did I focus on the sacrifice and dedication that this decision would entail. To me, loving God simply meant God rewarding me.

But today I must tell you all that God is already committed to us, God already loves us, and instead asks for us to commit to God, to Love God. We need not fool ourselves into thinking that we finally let God love us. Rather, we must consider our hearts ready to Love God. So, are we ready?

For me, this was a difficult and painful realization. To see through the eyes of pain and suffering was something I was unprepared for. So before we dive into the meaning and power of the scripture, let me take this opportunity to share with you some of my history, some of my experiences, a portion of my past. And maybe this will illustrate the power of today’s message.

I was born in Ashland, OR to the loving parents of Jeff and Mary K. My brother Phillip was born three years later and we both were very blessed to live in a loving Christian home. We were encouraged to be our best, do our best and simply succeed in whatever endeavor we chose to chase after. In 1989, Angela Rose Swartzentruber, the youngest of three children was born. Now I believe it is true that a Rose is symbolic of the beauty of life, and my sister truly reflected that aspect of her name. One of my favorite songs from the group Jars of Clay always reminds me of her, I think it captures her attitude of thankfulness and energy:

“In open fields of wild flowers, she breathes the air and flies away, she thanks to Jesus for the daisies and the roses…”

She was simple, beautiful, and joyful… full of life and love. Throughout her first six years she impacted many, especially me. It was impossible to ignore her radiant desire for loving God and loving others. She would continually ask for “her boys,” meaning my brother and me. She loved to play and enjoy life with others. She wanted to give, love and be loved. And the recognition of being loved was so no more evident than on that early Sunday morning, when my family walked from the parking lot to the church; and as we entered the building, Angela said these words: “I can’t wait until I am in heaven with Jesus.”

But its in these moments of comfort and happiness that we can easily overlook the call of the cross, the beckoning of God. And it was God, who beckoned my sister home only several weeks later at the age of six.

On a cool memorial afternoon in Oregon, at a local lake, my mother, brother and I underwent the tragedy of a loss that cannot be easily described. Angela went missing. One moment, all the children, including myself, were playing in the water. The next, Angela was gone. Naturally we wondered where such a young girl would want to wander off to, where she would begin to explore. But soon, we went from concerned to panicked about the disappearance of my sister, and then our thoughts turned frantic as we were forced to consider the possibility of a kidnapping. As it turned out, these fears were misguided, however they were not alleviated. Cars were searched and more police arrived, but divers also suited up. Several hours later, or at least what seemed to me to be an eternity, the divers discovered her lifeless body at the bottom of the lake, only several feet from where the kids of the church had been playing. Wedged next to the dock, she had drowned. In those waters, a young and vibrant rose had been plucked by the hand of God to be transplanted into the Garden of Heaven. Her wish to see God had been made real.

But to the heart that is unprepared, to the heart that is unaware, to my heart, this loss was not just tragic, but unacceptable. And so began my journey into the world of Christianity. As I grew, I carried with me the torment of a loss so deep, that any reconciliation would not be easily attained. And thus, I went through the motions of Christianity, I sang the songs, learned the verses, heard the sermons. I was a “Christian” in every sense of Churchly understanding. I went, I worshipped, I left.

Only in high school did I ever confront my past. As a high school freshman I was assigned and instructed to compose a memoir, a short memory from my past. I chose the memory of the pain and agony that my sister’s death brought. But I also, for what seemed to be the first time, decided to approach her death in more than a negative light, and instead choose to search for the power of her presence, and the inspiration of her short but beautiful life. She was, as her name suggested, an Angel, a messenger of God, that although graced us so briefly here on earth, was meant for something so much greater. Her life, and also her death, were meant to be a motivation and a comfort. Not just to myself, but to others.

“For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me and for the gospel will save it.”

The paradox of this verse is so profound, that a first reading is not enough. Imagine if you will, a church sanctuary, filled to capacity in remembrance of a 6 year old girl that had brought such joy and love to the lives of others that hundreds and hundreds of people showed up to pay their respects. Myself, I was overcome with grief, and did not recognize, at least at the time, the profound impact she had had upon this world in such a brief span of time. People we had never known, met, or knew existed attended her funeral, all having been touched by here life at least once in their lives… if not directly, in some way indirectly.

When I finally recounted those experiences, when I finally saw through the pain and tears, I began to realize that the finite time we have in this life can only be meant for the joy that love affords. The small opportunity we have to be more than who we are is many times overlooked. I know I had overlooked it. Angela, at a young age, embraced life and love, faith and kindness. She always smiled, always laughed, and in her death taught me what it means to give of my life. And this is truly the message today. Be more than who you are by yourself. Be a child of God. That is what our passage asks of us. To understand a new identity. Not to die a literal death, not to throw ourselves in front of a train or off of a cliff.

No, God asks that we would give of our entire being, and turn towards God. That is what my sister finally helped me see. Why did she impact so many people, why did I remember her love and energy? Because she was dead? I finally realized that her death only forced me to see what she was. Her death hadn’t been the impact itself. Instead it was a moment to recognize her life impact, to see what she had already been doing in her short time on earth. She had been loving people, and it had impacted them all because it was directed toward God. Because it was God’s. Angela was not her own, she was God’s. She recognized that, and so did the countless faces at her memorial service.

This is where you and I now re-enter the story. What does it mean to be a Christian? It means that we are a follower of Christ, but it also means that we ARE Christ’s. Our identity must be re-formed. We must remove our garments of selfishness and clothe ourselves with the righteousness of Christ. With God’s Love. We must be God’s Love. And if we are God’s Love, then as Jesus says in Mark 8:34, we will be forced to carry our crosses: To bear the burden of Love. We will experience Loss, Fear, and Pain, all of which are necessary conditions for Love. For what greater love is this, that Christ laid down his life for us, so that we, may lay down our lives for others.

The criterion of faith is commitment, determination, and a willingness to accept the difficulties of love. Grace is offered freely through the event of Christ, but we must understand and meditate daily on the sacrifice we are forced to make in accepting that Grace. We must choose a new identity. We must lose ourselves to gain Christ. And in gaining Christ, we gain the cross. Not only the Cross that brings the assuredness of forgiveness, but the cross that bears witness to the difficulties and obstacles of Love.

And so the message I gleaned from my sister, and the message I see in this passage is one and the same. I must see myself as God’s, as an instrument of Love. My identity is in God. And that re-formation, that re-identification requires a huge sacrifice: myself. And that sacrifice of self is only accompanied by the difficulties of love. Difficulties we have all experienced and will continue to experience. But these are the demands of God. And these are the blessings of heaven.