Sun Kwak, “Downward Mobility”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vw6QQduLk9A

TEXT: Mark 9:14-29

[14] And when they came to the disciples, they saw a great crowd around them, and scribes arguing with them. [15] And immediately all the crowd, when they saw him, were greatly amazed and ran up to him and greeted him. [16] And he asked them, “What are you arguing about with them?” [17] And someone from the crowd answered him, “Teacher, I brought my son to you, for he has a spirit that makes him mute. [18] And whenever it seizes him, it throws him down, and he foams and grinds his teeth and becomes rigid. So I asked your disciples to cast it out, and they were not able.” [19] And he answered them, “O faithless generation, how long am I to be with you? How long am I to bear with you? Bring him to me.” [20] And they brought the boy to him. And when the spirit saw him, immediately it convulsed the boy, and he fell on the ground and rolled about, foaming at the mouth. [21] And Jesus asked his father, “How long has this been happening to him?” And he said, “From childhood. [22] And it has often cast him into fire and into water, to destroy him. But if you can do anything, have compassion on us and help us.” [23] And Jesus said to him, “‘If you can’! All things are possible for one who believes.” [24] Immediately the father of the child cried out and said, “I believe; help my unbelief!” [25] And when Jesus saw that a crowd came running together, he rebuked the unclean spirit, saying to it, “You mute and deaf spirit, I command you, come out of him and never enter him again.” [26] And after crying out and convulsing him terribly, it came out, and the boy was like a corpse, so that most of them said, “He is dead.” [27] But Jesus took him by the hand and lifted him up, and he arose. [28] And when he had entered the house, his disciples asked him privately, “Why could we not cast it out?” [29] And he said to them, “This kind cannot be driven out by anything but prayer.”

SERMON: “Down the Mountain”

So, I grew up as an only child. And when I watched the movie Home Alone for the first time, as a pre-teen kid, I remember thinking — There is no possible way something like this actually happens in real life. There was just way no way from my vantage point. Things were never that crazy, chaotic, disarrayed in our little family of three. But then, I became a father of four energy-packed children. And as a young dad, not only did I start to understand the possibility, but the whole idea of leaving children behind and forgetting about them momentarily unfortunately became an eventual experienced reality. Our family’s story involves our little Rowe, who’s safely in the care of our Kids Ministry, at the moment — just for the record. He’s not traumatized, from what I know. But it was the tail end of our trip to Hawaii back in September 2024 for the birthdays in our family — we have four of six birthdays from the end of August to the beginning of September. And so, we try and do something big every early September. And we were relatively modest with our spending and expenses while being in Hawaii, for the most part. But for the last day, we kind of splurged, and we ended up taking our kids to Aulani, which is the Disneyland resort in Hawaii. It was the day before we were going to board our flights and head back home. And so, we were trying to squeeze out as much fun as we possibly could. And if you’ve ever been to Aulani or have heard of it, it’s this water wonderland — water slides, lazy river, infinity pools, caves, hot tubs, more water slides. You name it — there’s just a lot going on. And so, we’ve had this long day of fun, and we’re on our way back to the hotel room, to get ready for dinner. And on the way, we lose track of Rowe. I went ahead of the rest of the family with Cohen. But then, Judy calls me in this panicked way that she doesn’t know where Rowe is. And so, I meet her and give her Cohen. And I just took off. And between Brad and I, we run a collective — what, ten miles each day? And if you got the joke, I contribute zero to that sum total. I rarely ever run for anything, but I just took off. Every worker I saw I would alert them, letting them know of a five year old boy who was wearing a white top and red checkered swim shorts. But as I was tracing back our steps and frantically looking left and right, I eventually found him with some workers. And the thing about Disney is that for their amusement parks, there are workers on top of workers. You know this, if you’ve ever been to the Disneyland garage. You have workers whose main job is to just wave you left or right. At the park, there are people constantly picking up trash, with trash cans being a calculated fifteen feet away from each other. And so, if Rowe was to be lost anywhere, this was probably as safe of a place for him to get lost. But I’ve never sprinted so fast, especially when I saw our little guy with a couple workers. And he lunged into my arms with equal speed. And we just stayed like that for a bit. And some time after, after things had normalized, Judy and I asked him — Hey buddy, when you did you stop being scared? And immediately, he said that it was when he saw his Daddyrunning toward him. And you see, he might not have been in dire danger. He was with workers who were intent on returning him safely to his family. But his heart wasn’t right with them, because he needed to see his Mom and his Dad.

And church, I think we have an extremely special thing here. This messy and mistake-prone place called the local church is one of my favorite places. And I’m amazed at who God has brought to comprise what makes up Christ Our Redeemer. And for the people who come through our doors, I think they know that it’s our intention to provide a place of safety and grace. And church, we do that together. But what we need ultimately is not to know that this is a safe place. But every single one of us needs a weekly visual of Dad running toward us. That we might come in here anxiousand unsure in our hearts about something. And while this is a place we pray that would be a locale of transformative safety, if we can’t provide this visual and lived out experience of our God running toward his people, we’ve missed the mark as a church, and that angst we feel won’t meet an adequate resolution. And while we position people strategically, spiritually speaking, and do our best to create an atmosphere of safety, we can’t and should never replace that fatherly love. Towards the end of our passage today, the nine disciples who were in the valley with this demon-possessed childask Jesus why they couldn’t cast out the demon. To which, Jesus replies — This kind cannot be driven out by anything but prayer. And you think about the disappointment over these disciples. They’re on mission, which is what we are also on as a church. And they were supposed to be the representatives of God. And what validated them was the successes of their ministries. They’ve been out healing and doing miracles and gathering crowds. But here, they meet unexpected failure. And isn’t this the case for churches and for ministry leaders, at times? We bring our burdens and needs to the church, and sometimes and maybe often times, we get let down? The disappointment is real. But what we get the window into today is to show that God not only tolerates but even uses our mistakes at times. One of the best parenting tips I got was to never lose the opportunity to tell your kid — I’m sorry I sinned against God, and I sinned against you. Because our kids need to know that Mom and Dad aren’t perfect and are equally in need of a Savior. Because when we bring our mistakes and our needs to clear view, what we’ll see is the Father running toward the cries of his children.

There’s this painting by Raphael, who’s considered one of the big three among the Italian renaissance painters. And the painting is called Transfiguration, which is self-explanatory. It highlights the event that we looked into last week, with Jesus transfigured and in the company of Elijah and Moses, along with three of his disciples — Peter, James, and John. And what Raphael depicts in art form is this contrast of events from the Transfiguration to the very following scene, which is our story today. Because there is the Transfiguration event that happens up on the mountain, with the Father pronouncing from the heavens — This is my beloved Son. And the way Raphael depicts this is with Jesusfloating in glorious form and in the light and centered. And this moment of light and celebration and shining brightness is contrasted with what happens in the dark depths of the valley, which are the happenings of the very following passage involving another father with his son — our story today. And there, this father is depicted to be with his demon-possessed son below with the other nine disciples who are trying to cast out the demon from this young boy. And through it, there is this strange juxtaposition of two fathers with two sons. And when you consider our story, it’s something that Jesus connects — the glory of God on the mountain, and the mercy of God in the valley. For it’s in Christ, in his movement from one to the other, where these two stories connect. It’s one of my favorite sayings from Henri Nouwen — that against the climate of status seeking and identity building, what we get with Jesus is not the climb of upward mobility but rather the descent, his downward mobility. That he comes down, stripping himself of his status and rights and privileges. Because on top of the mountain, we heard those words — This is my beloved Son. Listen to him. And at the very same time, there’s another father pleading from down below the very same thing about his anguished and demonized child — This is my beloved son. Listen to him. Listen to my sweet little boy — to his terrifying cries, his demonic shrieks, his helpless yelps of pain. Will you listen, and will you come, and will you help?

In his book The Problem of Pain, C. S. Lewis notes of God’s involvement in hearing pain. He writes — We can ignore even pleasure. But pain insists upon being attended to. God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: it is his megaphone to rouse a deaf world. That in the moments of felt pain, God is not absent. In fact, he’s present — the God of Glory is present in the sunken valleys of our painful experiences. For here in our passage is the Son of Glory, who’s come down from the mountain to visit the son of anguish and pain, from the mountain above to the valley below — to validate the pleas of a bewildered father. For upon hearing the words of validation from heaven, from his heavenly Father, what do we read from his own lips? As he’s coming down the mountain and explaining that he must die then be raised from the dead. Then, in verse 12 — And he said to them, ‘Elijah does come first to restore all things. And how is it written of the Son of Man that he should suffer many things and be treated with contempt? Jesus has just heard the most validating words from the most validating voice. And yet, the Son of heaven does not stay in his gloried place of adoration. But rather, in his downward mobility, he condescends to meet the cries and the anguish of those he came to save — connecting heaven to earth. And this is what the Celts referred to as the thin places. Those moments where the space between heaven and earth seems to be a matter of feet. For what we get to ultimately see is not just the love of this earthly father. But as this loving father brings his son to Jesus in his helplessness, in humble admission, he relinquishes control and places his son into the care of his God. That there is a fatherly love and care that even the great love of earthly parents cannot provide in full. And as we noted of our goals as a church, we look into this story that shows us the visual and experience we all need — of our God who comes to us, his downward mobility. That while looked after in the care of others, what we ultimately need is to see our God come to us from his glory and in his mercy to our places of dejection and helplessness.

As we slowly bring our time to a close. Put yourself in the position of this father in our story. He’s there with his boy every step of the way. We read in verse 22 the pleas of this father — Have compassion on us and help us. Not him, with the issue. Not him that I’ve brought to you. But us — he’s so identified with the needs of his son that he’s entered into his painful story. And we’re told that it’s been a long time, it’s been a number of years that he’s seen his little boy held captive to this demon possession. And according to verse 22, these demonic shrieks coming out of this boy have been happening to him since his childhood. And describing what’s consumed his son as demon possession is enough. But our narrative describes in detail. We read in verses 17-18 the desperate pleas of a broken-hearted father. He comes to Jesus — Teacher, I brought my son to you, for he has a spirit that makes him mute. And whenever it seizes him, it throws him down, and he foams and grinds his teeth and becomes rigid. This is a violent picture. You look at the descriptions here. This little boy is controlled, seized. And he’s convulsing and being thrown to the ground — his limbs moving in terrifying and helpless ways. You could picture scenes from 70’s horror films here. But then, he’s foaming and grinding his teeth, which mirrors the picture of ultimate judgment and wrath — the place of weeping and gnashing of teeth, which is how Jesus describes hell in Matthew 8:12. Because that word that’s translated as rigid here in verse 18 is to be drying or withering up. It’s the picture of one who is being scorched in the fires of judgment.

Now, there’s this detail that the Gospel writer Luke adds in the parallel account of this story. We read in Luke 9:38 of this helpless father’s plea to Jesus — Teacher, I beg you to look at my son, for he is my only child. Because we noted the picture that Raphael had so masterfully painted of these connected stories. That there the heavenly Fatherdeclares of his Son — This is my beloved Son; listen to him. And the father in the valley pleading — This is my beloved son; listen to him. Listen to his cries, to my little boy, of these terrifying shrieks. And here, God in Christ has come down into the valley from the mountain not only to meet him but to identify with him. For here, he would enter the pain, the experience, and step into the place of this young boy. Because at the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus would start profusely sweating — this is not nervous sweat but deeply anguished sweat mixed with blood. And the way that Jonathan Edwards describes this moment is that Jesus was sweating, because the door of the furnace of judgmenthad been cracked open. And he was beginning to feel the heat of God’s eternal wrath. Wrath that was deserving for you and me, but wrath that he would willingly step into. To the point where he wouldn’t just sweat, but he would be withered up, scorched in the fires of judgment, to where he would cry from the cross, as the living water — I thirst. I’m all dried up, completely withered up.

For in this tale of the two Fathers, wouldn’t God identify with this earthly father? Wasn’t he one who so identified with his Son. And yet, would give up his own Son, to be mute, to be stricken, and to be left completely exhausted with his limbs helplessly stretched when thrown onto a wooden cross? And not just to be like a corpse as we read in verse 26, but to become dead as he died for us who were dead in our sins. To have us listen to him, knowing that he was pinned there for our helpless state, because of our sin, because of our maladies and necessary doom. That he took our place so that what we might get is a vision not of a Father who turns his back on his sinful children but of one who runs to us instead. And do you know what the word for help in verse 22 is visualized to be in the Greek? That word βοηθεω is to run to the aid of. The exact image that all children of the king need to see — our Father running to us. Because we’re scared, because we’re lost, because we don’t feel safe. What we need to see more than anything else in this community, through what’s preached and taught, through how we direct our hopes and comforts. From the mountain to our valleys, our God comes running to his people. Telling us — I beg you to look at my Son, for he is my only child, and he is your only hope. And wouldn’t he give him up for us, in order that we might experience his love and comfort? Where are you feeling helpless this morning? What needs are you carrying? What cries are coming out from you? For we are often in the valleys while here in this world. But our sunken roads are not foreign to God and our pain is not far from God. We cry to him, and we can be sure that as we listen to him, he’s listened to us.