This is the last sermon I’ll give here at this church, my first home for ordained ministry. So, I felt a lot pressure about what I would say. When you’re standing up here week after week, all eyes on you, it’s easy to forget that the sermon is not about the preacher, as much as feels that way sometimes.
The sermon is intended to be, always and without exception, about the eternal relationship between God and God’s people. In other words, it’s about the Gospel, the good news: That we are not alone, and that we are always cared for by the Creator of the universe.
The sermon moment, within the context of a service, functions as both a conversation and a pause.
- It is meant to illuminate the readings that we just heard proclaimed by fellow members of the Church.
- But, it is also meant to give the right amount of time and weight to those readings, so that we’re not just reading them as rote parts of the service, but understanding that they are still speaking to us.
Strictly speaking, it doesn’t matter if the sermon is entertaining or well-spoken. What really matters is that both the preacher and the people are open to the Holy Spirit speaking, in both the words and silences of this moment. I’m saying this now, because I think it’s easy to forget the point of all of this talking.
What we’re trying to do in worship is remember that we are still being called to join up with God and carry our cross, just as Jesus says in today’s reading from Mark.
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So, let’s talk about what it means to carry our cross…
I grew up in a tradition that was hyper-fixated on the cross.
We sang songs about Jesus’s death on Christmas morning. The preacher preached on Jesus’s death on Easter, the day of Jesus’ resurrection. In fact, it would have been very abnormal if we got through a whole service, at any time of year, without being reminded that Jesus “died on the cross for our sins.”
That’s not to say that this isn’t an important part of our story as Christians:
We worship a God who suffered unjustly, and who was willing to bear our burdens, knowing that we could not bear those burdens or be reconciled to God by ourselves.
But, the issue is that, when you’re hyper-fixated on the gruesome death of Jesus, you will really have no choice but to read today’s Gospel reading as a command for Christians to suffer and die.
But that just can’t be the whole story! Because, if the cross is only about death, then we’re completely missing the Gospel. Where’s the good news? With help from theologians James Cone and Kathryn Tanner, I have come to believe that the good news is not that Jesus died.
The good news is that, against all odds, Jesus lives.
That means that, when he tells us we should take up our crosses and follow him, he’s not telling us it’s time to walk toward death.
He’s actually telling us: “it’s time to walk toward life”: Abundant life that defies the scarcity of the world. Eternal life that rejects the short-term thinking of our economic and social system. Life beyond quick fixes, substances, and consumer goods.Big thinking, not small thinking. A total transformation of the world that leads, ultimately, to a natural paradise called the new creation.
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When Jesus shocks his disciples in this moment by telling them to take up their crosses, they’re in the same boat as us in some ways. Surely, all they could think about was crucifixion. But, we know that crucifixion was never the whole story.
So, as we’re being called to take up our own crosses, we better get clear on what that means. Because we serve a risen Savior, to take up our cross is to bear burdens for the sake of beauty, abundance, community, love, belonging…and hope.
We’re not people with a death wish. We’re people with a life wish.
Without a desire for life, there is no benefit in suffering. There would be no benefit in strife. There would be no benefit in living counter-cultural lives of sacrificial love in society that couldn’t care less about others. There’s no benefit unless the work that we do here, for and with each other, leads toward the whole world living abundantly.
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And that’s why I want to talk about honeybees.
I can’t leave this place without talking about my very favorite critter.
And I really do believe that honeybees have something to teach us about crosses, sacrificial love, and abundant life…
Unlike their indigenous cousins, honeybees live in highly structured communities called hives. The hive is made up almost entirely of female bees. These bees are called worker bees, and they do exactly what their name implies.
They work. On every possible task at every level of their community.
- They take care of the larvae and clean the nursery.
- They feed and care for the Queen.
- They kick out the pesky male drones when the drones are no longer useful.
- They clean up all of the trash, and maintain the various chambers.
- They keep guard at the hive door and fight off wasps and other predators.
- They make a place for the retired, elderly bees.
- And of course, they gather nectar from flowering plants to turn into nutrient-dense honey.
Along the way, they pollinate the world’s fields, forests, and agricultural land.
The majority of a worker bee’s life is spent in the darkness of the hive, hidden from the public eye. They work their way through the system from juvenile to adult bee, and carry out their tasks with precision. They communicate and collaborate extremely effectively. And the result is a well-oiled machine.
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After a few weeks attending to internal tasks, the worker bee is finally ready to leave the hive.
She will spend the next weeks flying up to 60 miles per day on her tiny wings, to find just the right pollen and nectar to bring back to her community. These will be turned into the bee equivalent of bread and drink, called “bee bread” and honey.
Some nights she will sleep inside a flower, too far away to reach the hive. But when she returns, she will communicate using a complex body language called the waggle dance. Now an expert harvester, with a daily view of blue sky and flowering field, she shares what she has learned with her community.
In two weeks, she will likely be dead. Her wings, beating 230 times per second, will break down from the rigor of flying. Or, she may be killed by pesticides, bad weather, or other creatures. If she survives, she will be welcomed back into the hive as a retiree.
Even though her body is broken, her labor was not in vain.
Her hive is buzzing and buoyant because of her labor, and the labor of her community.
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Each worker bee carries her cross, keeping order and caring for young and old in the hive, before flinging her body out into a worldthat is beautiful and dangerous in equal measure.
She knows her job is important, even if her contribution is small. She will produce one and a half teaspoons of honey in six weeks of hard labor — her entire lifespan. But a commercial hive of 50,000 bees will produce up to 100 pounds of honey each year, with 60 of that produced in excess of what the hive needs.
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A honeybee knows how to take up her cross.
She knows how to take care of her community. How to share the burden and carry the load.
A honeybee knows how to look to the wisdom of her tradition, and learn new tasks with humility. She knows that it’s worth it to take the risk, and even to take a fall. Because the outcome is abundantly sweet.
And, meanwhile, in all of her doing for her own community, she has also pollinated the world.
She launched herself out in service to her hive, and that small act of courage made it possible for all of God’s creatures to eat, to be well, to do more than survive. Her whole life given for a spoonful of honey that makes each life just a little bit sweeter.
A honeybee knows what it means to live abundantly.
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It’s serendipitous that our Old Testament reading today is about the covenant God makes with Abraham.
God promises Abraham that his descendants will be numerous, and blessed with abundance. Over 200 years later, God will lead Abraham’s great-great-great-grandson, Moses, and his people out of the land of Egypt.
God reiterates his promise then, saying that God’s people will inherit a land flowing with milk and honey. A land overwhelmed with so much life that it produces decadent foods in excess.
And that’s what we come here to remember: That the journey may be difficult. The crosses may be heavy. And there will be heartache on the way.
But there is so much life at the end. And there’s so much life, here, right now.
No matter what task you are called to in this hive:
- Whether it is to tend or clean.
- organize or build.
- lead or support.
- Rest or fly.
The cross you bear will bear fruit. The cross you bear will produce in excess.
Don’t be afraid to bear it!
You are following in the footsteps of the One who created the honeybee, and You.
This is why we carry our cross. This is why we do what we do: Because there is exponential sweetness in God’s promises. And, because in the midst of death, there is life…abundant life.
Amen.
Leah Wise 