"Teacher, we saw someone casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him, because he was not following us." (Mark 9:38)

My first ever paid job was as a cinema usher. I don’t want to hear any mutterings of, “silent movies”. Most of the time it was my job to take the tickets and hold the doors open for people to get into the auditorium. Sometimes, though, folk would arrive late. Then it was my job, armed with my trusty torch, to usher them through the darkness, making sure they didn’t fall down the steps, to find a seat for them. It wasn’t, to be fair, a particularly skilled job. It didn’t require much in the way of qualifications or training. Anyone could do it. Unless they had a pathological fear of the dark. There were no national prizes for being Usher of the Year. 

Anyone could do it. That’s part of what lies behind our text this morning. It’s not entirely clear from Mark’s Gospel what the context is for John’s remark about stopping someone who was casting out demons because he wasn’t following them. From what he says it’s likely that it’s shortly after Jesus had sent the apostles out on their first missionary tour. They’d taught. They’d done amazing things - including a few miracles. Maybe they’re a bit full of themselves. It’s interesting that it’s John who says this. Along with his brother James he asked that he should be seated alongside Christ when he came into his glory.

What Jesus says is interesting. “Don’t stop him.” and “Whoever is not against us is for us.” Yes, whoever it was that was casting out these demons may not have been one of Jesus’s chosen ‘special’ apostles. We have no idea who it was. He’s some nameless guy offering his hand to someone going through the darkness and ushering them back into the light.

Jesus is very firm about this. He follows up it up with some of the starkest and seemingly harshest words of all his teaching - all that stuff about lopping off limbs and plucking out eyes. What he is getting at is, whatever the cost rid yourself of the idea that lies behind what you’ve just said. And why? Jesus goes back to the child he’d introduced in the passage before this one. He uses a different word, though. Whereas he’d spoken as if this were a small child -  baby, perhaps - who needs to be cared for, now the word he uses is ‘paidion’ - from which we get the word ‘pedagogy’ or ‘teaching’. This is a child who can be taught. Hell mend anyone who stops him from doing so.

What is it that gets Jesus so riled up? It’s the suggestion that there is only one way for people to do work in his name. That there is only one way to come to him. That there is only one way serve God. More, perhaps. Maybe it’s the suggestion that there are only certain people who can truly work in his name - in this case the apostles. That only certain people can bring people to Christ. That only certain people do the work of God in the world.

Sometimes I wonder if the Church has forgotten this. We’ve told ourselves tales of the evangelising saints of yore - the Ninians and the Columbas and the Augustines - and of how they spread the faith. And I’m not wanting to detract from that. We’ve given certain members of the Church titles - Pope, Minister, Bishop - and given them special responsibilities and authority. And I’m not necessarily being critical of that. We have restricted certain ceremonial duties to those people - and I totally get that.

What we mustn’t forget, though, is what Jesus says after his hard words. “Everyone will be salted with fire.” The Gospel and its message is not for a select few to pass on: it is a fire that is meant to burn in all those who have been touched by it. 

This is what Jesus is getting at when he talks about a stumbling block before a child who can learn. If all that people see of the Christian faith is our buildings and our ceremonies; if all they hear are our doctrines and our condemnations of people’s lifestyles; if the only representations of Christians they see on their media - and by that I mean all the social media we have at our disposal today as well as the telly - are people in unusual clothes with degrees in theology then there is a stumbling block between them and their coming to Christ.

And what of the people who get over that stumbling block? What of those who actually get along to church and try and find out what it’s all about? I know I’ve told this story before, but it’s had such an effect on what I think about what it means to be a Christian and to be a member of Christ’s Church that I keep coming back to it. When I first came to Christ in my twenties and rolled up to communion class I was told what my role was as a member of the congregation - to read the Bible, to turn up on a Sunday and to contribute to the collection. Not exactly, “Go! Cast out demons in the name of Christ!” is it?

OK. Casting out demons is a bit of a challenge. That’s, perhaps, why Jesus tempers that with a reference to people who simply offer a cup of water. We can all do that, can’t we? A simple act of generosity and kindness? Except that sometimes people don’t. What about a simple act of forgiveness when someone’s hurt you: a simple, “Forget it.” We can all do that, can’t we? Except that sometimes people don’t. Science tells us that there is no such thing as race - that we are all human: that for all our differences of culture, language, religion and politics, we are really all kin to one another. We can all act accordingly, can’t we? Except that sometimes people don’t.

In a world where people sometimes just need the simplest of gestures of kindness and generosity and meet indifference and coldness we can all make those gestures, and in doing so we reflect the love of God revealed in Jesus. We can bring light to the darkness and salt to the earth. In a world where we’re taught that revenge is a dish best served cold and hatreds are passed on generation to generation we can all let bygones be bygones, and in doing so we reflect the grace of God and the power of the Cross. We can bring light to the darkness and salt to the earth. At a time when there is increasing talk of strengthening borders we can reach across the barricades to the refugees from the poverty and wars of the world and offer welcome. In doing so we reflect the love of God for the humanity in which he walked this world in Christ. We bring light to the darkness and salt to the earth.

There is no “select few” in the work of God. We talk, often, of Christ being the light of the world, and so he is. But here and now, how does that light shine? It shines in you and it shines in me and it shines in all of his followers when we offer the world a way of life that isn’t based on selfishness, greed, hatred, bigotry and status, but on love, kindness, generosity and the open-handed welcome of one child of God for another. Whenever we do that - whenever we live according to those principles, we usher people in the way. We shine a torch in the darkness to guide their footsteps and we direct them toward Christ

Lord may we recognise that we are all salted with fire. we are all meant to be a light to the world. We are all meant, by following in the way of your Son, to guide others into that way

Preached at Gretna Old parish church