If you ever visit the city of Venice in Italy, you will see a peculiar sight. Flying from flag poles all over the city, is a red and yellow flag with a huge image of a winged lion holding a book in its paw. As it turns out, this is the flag of Veneto, the province that Venice is in.
The lion represents St. Mark, the evangelist who wrote the second Gospel. You see, twelve hundred years ago, a group of clever and crafty Venetians travelled to Alexandria in Egypt. Once there, they stole the body of St. Mark and snuck his remains away in a barrel covered in produce and took him back to Venice. Then the Doge of Venice built a giant, glorious basilica called, of course, “St Mark’s” with an altar over his remains, and the city has showed off their great Christian pedigree by flying their St. Mark flag everywhere. And they told the Egyptians, “we’re not giving you your saint back.”
I realize that I am in grave danger right now of becoming forever known as the “animal deacon.” My wife told me I absolutely should not bring in the Venetian flag that I got on our honeymoon. Otherwise I would also become “the prop deacon.” Thanks, Kate.
So, anyway—the point. We have just started the Gospel of Mark. Each of the four Gospels has a particular symbol associated with it. Mark’s is a lion to represent the proclamation of John the Baptist roaring in the desert. You see, Mark does not waste time in his account of Jesus’ life. There is no infancy narrative. No childhood stories whatsoever. He begins with Jesus being baptized in the Jordan. And then Jesus “immediately is driven into the desert to be tempted.” Mark uses “immediately” and “right away” frequently.
Mark is the Gospel that we will be hearing proclaimed from now until November and like his portrayal of Jesus, Mark does not wish for us to waste time. In between Christmas and the start of Lent, we might like to take a breath and take a break spiritually and emotionally, right? God knows we have had quite a January with insurrection, impeachment, and inauguration happening on three Wednesdays in our nation’s capital. We might justly say, “I deserve a little siesta here.”
Mark—and Jesus—tell us, “there is no time to lose. There is no time for that.” I read that you can hear a lion’s roar from five miles away—so on a quiet day, I imagine you could hear the lion’s at the zoo on our campus. In today’s reading, we have Jesus’ first sermon, indeed his first words in the Gospel of Mark. They are short but not sweet. Urgent and direct:
This is the time of fulfilment.
The kingdom of God is at hand.
Repent, and believe in the Gospel.
Jesus’ words are meant to provoke an immediate reaction in the listeners, just like the first disciples who instantly dropped everything—literally dropped their nets and their oars and their fish at the word of Jesus. In the same way, the people of Nineveh, who after hearing a similar word from the prophet Jonah immediately sprang into action. They began a great fast, put on the clothes of repentance, and dedicated themselves to the difficult work of changing their hearts and their lives.
I want to unpack that word, “repent” or “repentance” that Jesus uses. In English, it has a moralistic sound. A condemnation like “y’all are a bunch of sinners and you need to come Jesus right now.” The word in Greek, metanoia, means something much more like “transform” or “convert.” It means the process of changing my heart and my mind. Jesus says something more like, “Change your life and have faith in the Good News.”
I’d like to give two concrete recommendations for that today. The first, go home and read the Gospel of Mark. It is a short work and can be read in one sitting. We are going to be journeying through this Gospel this year. Sit with Mark. Pray with Mark and listen for the voice of God. Second, there is an excellent new podcast called, “The Bible in a Year” by Fr. Mike Schmitz. If you have ever had an interest in reading through the entire narrative of the Bible, this is a remarkably good entry point.
Praying on Jesus’ words of transformation this week, I have been thinking about Rainer Maria Rilke’s poem, “Archaic Torso of Apollo.” In it, the poet writes about an incomplete, broken statue. It is a bust, but the head and arms are missing. So is everything below the abs. All that is present is the torso. Yet it is a beautiful sculpture and the brokenness of it challenges him to complete the missing pieces in his imagination and in the verses of this poem. And so he does, supplying gorgeous metaphors about the light of Apollo’s eyes and hands which leave the viewer with no place to hide: for here there is no place
that does not see you. And then he ends with this stunning last line, “you must change your life.”
In the brokenness of our own lives, in our incompleteness, we are challenged to link our self to Christ. And in the transformation of our hearts and minds and very persons, to become complete. Whole. This is the time of fulfillment. The Kingdom of God is at hand. Today’s Gospel comes with the roar of the lion: you must change your life.
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