Mark 9

Jesus seems to have an aversion to the kind of us-and-them boundary setting of his disciples.

Poor disciples. They rarely miss an opportunity to make a mess.

Rather than rebuke the disciples, Jesus takes a little child by the hand.

Child advocate R. L. Stollar seeks to help people read the Bible in ways that protect and honor children.

What Peter, James, and John see on the mountain cannot be neatly packaged for resale.

Minister and veteran David Peters invites us to consider our own post-traumatic identities in a new light. 

Maybe the shock of Jesus’ words is the point.

The monarchy, celebrity, and true greatness

Peter wants to capture that mountaintop experience forever.

God’s presence transfigures here, now, in the familiar.

Last year I was told I needed to be on a high-sodium diet for medical reasons.

Mystics experience the holy—an experience that enlarges their interest in their fellow humans.

Jesus is pretty clear: we should mind our own spiritual business.

Perhaps the disciples have been captivated by the kind of power embodied by Augustus and Herod.

Strange things are happening on this mountain.

According to Jesus, chances are good that there's not going to be much left of us once we've admitted to just how often stumbling blocks stand in our way. Whether others put them there or we find ways to place them ourselves, they trip us up, keep us from moving forward, get us off track.

Our proclivity for greatness is rather embarrassing, isn’t it? No wonder the disciples keep their mouths shut when Jesus inquires about the topic of their conversation on the road. We want it, and we want it big time—recognition, sway, importance—but we also get that we shouldn’t admit this out loud.

At this point in Mark, stumbling blocks seem a necessary point for conversation. We are good at placing them in others’ paths, and even better at setting them before ourselves.