Inside. Outside. Upside Down.

Inside, Outside, Upside Down – it’s a classic written by the Berenstain family, better known as the Berenstain Bears.  Have you ever read it?  You need to.  It’s glorious.  It’s about a little cub who gets inside a delivery box without knowing it was about to get shipped across town when all of a sudden a delivery man seals it, flips it over and takes it on a three hour ride.  I love this book. 

Although . . . I’m not sure why.  The book is a little shady.  A six year old cub, at best, climbs in a box, gets shipped in the back of a truck and wanders through life for at least three hours before the mother even realizes he’s gone missing.  It’s terrible parenting, poor sense of judgment on the cub’s part, and ridiculous that a delivery man would not even notice there’s a living creature inside the box he’s totting around. 

But despite these apparent flaws, the book does have a certain appeal.  Its majesty comes with its fictional depiction of life.  No one would ever willingly do something as foolish as this cub.  No one would leave everything, the comfort of home, the value of safety, just to seek after uncertainty. 

That’s why we like books like this . . . because its fantasy.  It would never really happen. Not to us.  Not to people as brainy and footsy as us.  We’re too smart.  It’s a cute story of a cub that goes on an adventure and finds his way home.  He experiences what it’s like to be inside, outside and upside down.  We get that.  We like that.  We know this is fiction.  We know its fantasy.  Nothing more.  Kids love it.  We love it.  Because it could never happen to us. It’s fiction.  It’s fantasy.  It’s foolish.  Until you apply it to Mark 1.14-20. 

When I read this passage, I immediately think of the symmetry between Jesus and Inside, Outside, Upside Down.

Think about it.  Jesus works inside the realm of Jewish prophecy and law.  He goes to his Jewish brothers and sisters to preach and teach.  He walks the beaches of his own territory, his own country.  He works from the inside. He also invites others inside.  He takes the marginal fishermen, the outcast, uneducated, unsophisticated, noisy, obnoxious, disenfranchised brothers from the sea.  What was Jesus thinking? 

And he’s doing the same for us today.  Jesus calls us to go inside the same journey, the same discipleship, the same way of life he invites for Andrew and Simon, John and James. 

We were once on the outside on the margins, uneducated, unsophisticated, obnoxious, and unwanted until Jesus came.  Until he showed us grace.  Until we met face to face with the divine and saw what unconditional love really is.  That’s all of our testimonies.  We all were lost but now we’re found.  We all were blind but now we see.  We all wandered alone, afraid, and with no place to go, until we saw the face of Jesus.  Until we came inside the walls of the church.  Until we opened the door to our crooked, wicked, and corrupt heart and let Jesus in as our Lord and Savior.  That’s the road to salvation. That’s the road to forgiveness. That’s the road to discipleship.  And the road begins with us walking inside. 

Jesus is inviting all of us inside.  Inside his arms, inside his heart, his group, his community.  Jesus’ love is big enough for all people, everywhere.    We’re all invited to partake in Jesus’ ministry, to walk inside, learn from him, and see him ever so mysteriously, heal the world.  

But sometimes when we go inside and sit in the synagogue of life, we get a little too comfortable.  We forget the two part message of Jesus saying, “Repent and then follow.”  We forget that after we are invited inside to learn, we must then go outside.

Research shows that normal church goers, those who come twice a month on average, become too complacent. They stagnate.  And I think you know what I mean.  When we surround ourselves with a Christian community, and that Christian community becomes our only source of identity, then we’ve become too comfortable with being inside. 

If the church is ever going to be a viable option for the future, for our kids, for the postmodern generation, then we are going to have to step from the inside – outside.  People are going to have to know we exist, not because the stumble inside, but because we meet them out there and invite them to come inside. 

And that’s the mystery of following Jesus.  James and John had to leave their parents, leave their careers, leave everything to follow this nomadic, charismatic, teacher.  Simon and Andrew did the same.  They didn’t pack, they didn’t tell their parents bye – they just left.  Becoming a follower of Jesus, at times, demands us to move outside. 

Do you think it was uncomfortable for James and John and Simon and Andrew to leave it all behind?  You bet.  Moving from inside to outside is dangerous, confusing, uncomfortable, and mysterious. 

But it’s also holy, majestic, and divine. 

We have to be willing to go inside to meet Jesus, move outside to show others Jesus, because in doing so, the world turns upside down. 

Jesus turns the world upside down.  This means we must be willing to change (if need be).  Change the way we act. Change the way we worship.  Change the way we do church, do life, and do community.  Change our biases. Change our relationships and even change our theology. 

It’s not enough to sit and let the world us pass by.  Jesus is calling us inside to commune, pushing us outside to minister, and in the meantime turning our worlds upside down – because for Christ’s sake, we need it. 

This is the message of Mark 1 and it’s still alive in us today.  We have to be a people who are willing to follow the formula of discipleship:  We must go inside, outside, upside down. 

It’s unfortunate though that the Berentstain Bear’s weren’t around for Simon, Andrew, James and John; because they didn’t realize that this formula of discipleship (Inside, Outside, Upside Down) is just make-believe.  They didn’t realize this journey is just fantasy.  They could have stayed in the luxury of their own homes, their own towns, or their own familiar theology.  They didn’t have to risk it all, try on something new, or jeopardize their 401k.  They didn’t have to leave the family business.  They didn’t have to turn everything upside down.  They didn’t have to.

They just didn’t know what we “know.”  They didn’t realize that Mark 1 reads like a children’s book.  It isn’t serious when it invites us inside a world that can change everything.  It isn’t serious when it says Jesus invites us into a world where all people are created equal:  Equally loved, equally cared for, and equally made in the image of the divine.  It isn’t serious when it says Jesus wants us to move outside the walls of our understanding, outside the walls of our church, and outside the walls of our comfort level.  It isn’t serious.  Sure there’s a dying world that needs healing.  There’s a blind community that needs seeing.  There’s lame people that still has life to walk.  But we can’t bring them that.  That would be turning the world upside down. 

We’re comfortable.  We’re complacent.  We know who really belongs inside and who should be left outside.  It’s not our job to invite them in.  It’s probably better if we don’t have a lot of sick, blind, and crippled people in here anyway.   

We know the formula of Inside, Outside, Upside down is just for kids.  It’s fantasy.  It’s foolish.  Jesus wasn’t serious when he said the kingdom will turn everything upside down.  And we shouldn’t think those things anyway.  The status quo is better.  The familiar is nicer.  Doing things the way we’ve always done them for the sake of doing them the way they’ve always been done is best.    

I’m glad we don’t read Mark 1 with a sense of mystery anymore.  If we did – we may not like how much we’d have to change to move from the inside to the outside. Or better yet, we may realize we weren’t ever on the inside to begin with. 

Inside, Outside, Upside Down.   It really is foolish.