So, when I was a teenager, I taught swimming lessons to little kids. The most fun part of it was “diving day.” Now “diving day” did not mean that these three and four year-olds would actually dive. That was still a long way off. But telling them they were diving rather than just jumping made them feel so special.
But invariably there would be that one kid. You know the one. He or she would show up on diving day, with arm and leg floats, fins, goggles, a snorkel, a nose clip, one of those inflatable donuts. So much safety stuff on him that you could barely see the kid under all that. Then the time came, and one-two-three, dive! And the kid would stand there, petrified, then scream and run back to mama. Even with all that safety and preparation, he just couldn't take the plunge, so to speak.
So, I'd ask the mom to keep the kid after class, and when everyone else was dismissed, I'd go get my own gear. Big life vests and a divers mask, and fins, and an inflatable donut with a duck head. Oh, and the nose clip and a ladies swim cap with a big sunflower on it. And I'd come out looking like a fool. And I'd take the kid, still dressed in his gear, to the edge, and ask him to watch, just watch. And I'd jump in, shouting WOOOOOOOOO! And bounce around in the water, laughing and splashing, and smiling. Then, I'd struggle out, take off one piece of protection, and do it again. And I'd keep doing it, removing another piece of protection, until I was back down to just my swimsuit.
Then I'd ask him to try, with everything. Almost always the kid would. AND LOVED IT!!! And almost always, the kid wanted to do it again. And I'd say, “You know, it would be more fun if you took off X.” And he would. Then Y. Then Z. And pretty soon, the kid was “diving.” All by himself with no protection but me standing out there with open arms.
And by the time he and Mom left that day, he didn't even remember ever being afraid.
In our Gospel reading, we have a familiar story that tends to crop up this time each year. Most of us know it as the story of the rich, young ruler, and we preach now because that's when most churches begin crafting next year's budgets and send out pledge cards. All that. We preachers always take this story and tell y'all that when Jesus says to give everything away, well, a mighty fine place to give it would be to the church. Because together we can use that treasure to help bring about the Kingdom of God in our tiny part of the world. We can help other people's lives be better, and we can encourage them to follow Jesus, just like we try to do, and get involved, just like we want to be.
Then we preachers will tell you that treasure means money in this day and age, sure, because that's how our society processes all sorts of transactions between people. Even if I give you a pair of socks, I had to pay for them first. But treasure also means time and talent. Maybe you can't give tons of money, but maybe you can attend Monday Morning Prayer on Zoom. Or maybe you give your talent and help with the altar, or be a lector, or go visit someone at Chase, just once a month. Or knit prayer shawls. Or anything that helps someone spread the Gospel.
And all that is true, and we need all of those things – time, talent, and treasure – to keep the church rolling along.
But this year, we are hearing our Gospel in Mark's church. And in Mark's church, we don't use as many adjectives. This guy in our reading is not Rich, or Young, or a Ruler. He's a man. Just a guy. And he comes up to Jesus. And he must have been watching Jesus for some time now. And he knows that Jesus has something going on, seems to have some special relationship with God. He's seen or heard about the miracles. Maybe even been in the crowds now and then when Jesus was on the lecture circuit. And he's decided that this guy is his candidate to change the world.
And the man knows holy, for he is holy, too. He has kept all the commandments, and he probably hasn't made a big show of it, never called attention to himself, because we never know his name. But we know this: “Jesus, looking at him, loved him.” Here was a guy with potential. Here was a guy who could really do the heavy lifting of Kingdom building. And Jesus tells him to sell all he has and give it away. To take the plunge. And the man walks away, never to be seen again. The only person personally called by Jesus that walks away when here is the incarnate God standing there with open arms, ready to catch him.
Sometimes I think, these people with no names don't have names because it makes it easier for us to put ourselves in their places if we are brave enough to. And sometimes I think this story isn't about money or treasure at all. Sometimes, I think that Jesus is asking us to give up everything that keeps us safe. To dive in to the pool, teeming with others, to hold our own arms open, encouraging others to take that plunge. But that means getting into the pool first.
It's really about evangelism. Not TV preacher, door knocker, Bible thumper shouting and threatening and White Christian Nationalism damnation. But one-to-one encounters with people, telling them the most important story of your life. Inviting friends to experience something different. Encouraging family to return to the fold. But most of all, just loving them. Getting out there and knowing them and loving them.
And that involves removing all those protective devices we wear every day that actually encourage and reinforce our fears. Scared of embarrassment? Let's tell ourselves that we don't want to annoy people. Sacred people will get angry? Let's tell ourselves that people will hear the Gospel some other way, some other time. Y'all it doesn't work that way. It only works if YOU work it!
Let me tell you a story of something that happened to me when I was a new New Yorker. I was up in Clinton at the Hannaford, just shopping. And a guy working the meat counter shouted at me, “Yes, sir, we all need Jesus!” Well, I thought that was weird. I had just come from the gym and wasn't in my collar. But I forgot I was wearing a t-shirt that says, “Y'all need Jesus.”
There I was – caught! An exposed Christian! I had left all of my protection and excuses behind. And the guy read my message, and he piped up. Now he was trying to be funny, we both knew that, but we struck up a conversation for just a couple of minutes. I didn't tell him I was a priest, but I told him I was Episcopalian. He mentioned he lived close to the Episcopal church in Clinton. I said I knew the rector and that that church was really focused on feeding others. And that maybe, Hannaford could help that program out. And maybe, if he really needs Jesus, that would be a way to get his need met.
He paused and said maybe. Maybe. And he thanked me for the idea and promised he'd talk to his manager.
Maybe. But maybe not.
But I know this. At that moment, not only were my protections and defenses down, but so were his, and the Holy Spirit was able to make a connection, if only for a second.
I took a plunge. That butcher took a plunge.
We are all that young man meeting Jesus. And we are all called to walk away from whatever it is that keeps us from taking the plunge. Give to the church? Absolutely. We can't keep these things going if we don't have money. Give time and talent? Oh, my goodness, yes! That's how people know the church is there. Start a new ministry or group all on your own? Scary! And So, so, so needed, so talk to me.
But also – also – give of yourself in those hard, scary ways. Those one-to-one ways. Speak to a friend about Jesus. Remind a loved one about Jesus. Invite someone at the end of their rope to take that leap to Jesus. Because Jesus, “looking at him, loved him.” And his arms are wide open.
So, take the plunge.