When I went on a mission trip to Russia in 1997, I discovered many, many cultural differences between my own experience and a country that had recently emerged from years of Soviet rule.  Of course, the language is difficult, and uses the Cyrillic alphabet.  While I had grown up worrying that the Russians would outpace the US in technology as we raced each other into space and to build the most cold war weapons, I was unprepared for how little the lives of ordinary people were touched by technology.  But the discovery that relates to today’s sermon occurred as we were moving around the cities of Moscow, Novgorod and St. Petersburg.  We used public transportation and our feet.  Trying to manage ourselves so we had the right shoes, a reasonable amount of baggage to carry and had found a restroom if necessary, we would often inquire of our young Russian hosts as were about to set off from one destination to another, “How far is it?”  Our hosts would give a brief answer in Russian, and our interpreter would translate:  “Not far.”  I remember going from a museum to lunch in Moscow.  “Not far,” we were told.  Five miles, an hour and half and two blistered heels later, I came to understand that people have differing definitions of “not far.”

In today’s text from Mark’s gospel, Jesus tells a scribe, “You are not far from the kingdom of God.”  Given my experience with the phrase “not far,” I don’t know how I’d feel if I was told that I was “not far” from the Kingdom of God.  The truth is, most of the time, I feel pretty far away from it.  I’m walking through my days, sometimes not even planning the route very intentionally, engaging in tasks as they present themselves, and not thinking very much about whether there is some kind of destination for which I should be striving apart from sundown and bedtime so that, after sleep, another day can begin.

But I’d like to get closer to it.  Because the coming near of the Kingdom of God was at the heart of Jesus’s preaching.  The goal, as it were, of the Christian life seems to have something to do with finding one’s self participating in the Kingdom on earth as it is in heaven.

So it might be fruitful for us to examine the context in which someone who is conversing with Jesus is told that they are “not far” from the Kingdom of God.

The religious authorities are very concerned with the “right” way to express their religion.  With all sincerity, they want to get it right and please God.  But they are also protective of their point of view.  Fearing that Jesus is a threat to them, they have been questioning him vigorously about his orthodoxy.  They are undoubtedly hoping that they can get him to take sides on the hot controversial social issues of the day, and if he takes the “wrong” position, they can condemn him.  In the midst of this conversation, one particular scribe asks Jesus, “which of the commandments has priority?”

Jesus answer does not include any of the famous Ten Commandments.  Instead, he chooses a portion of a prayer familiar to all Jews... it is known as “The Shema,” for the first Hebrew word in the phrase.  “Hear O Israel, the Lord our God is One God.  Thou shalt love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul and with all your strength.”  (Deuteronomy 6:4-9).  In Mark’s gospel, Jesus adds that one should love God with all one’s mind.  But he doesn’t stop with this commandment.  He adds to it a second commandment, and describes it as equally important.  “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.  There is no other commandment greater than these.”

The scribe affirms Jesus response, and adds a commentary suggesting that this ethic of love for God and neighbor is of greater priority than religious practices.  Jesus replies, “You are not far from the Kingdom of God.”

I don’t know how far “not far” is – but I do know that the gospels are clear:  without love we are too far away to be near to the kingdom of God.  And furthermore, in many places in the New Testament text, including Paul’s famous chapter in 1 Corinthians, we are admonished that love is not a feeling, but a set of behaviors.

In her book, The Seven Whispers:  A Spiritual Practice for Times Like These, which one of our Wednesday evening groups has been studying, Christina Baldwin offers a model for attention to body, mind, soul and strength and for loving one’s self and one’s neighbor.  Her chapter on love of neighbor is entitled “Loving the Folks in Front of Us.”  Imagine walking through your day, asking in every moment, “how can I love the person right in front of me right now?”  Baldwin acknowledges that this is hard.  “... most of us know how to walk into a room, peruse the crowd, and determine in seconds whether or not we think anyone present is worth talking to... to love the folks in front of us is a challenge to drop our judgments, ... and to look at the ways we need each other.”

Huston Smith, the famous scholar of world religions recently turned 90 years old, and published an autobiography entitled Tales of Wonder, in which he describes his spiritual practices as a ninety year old person, living in an assisted living facility.  After studying and practicing all the world’s major religions and then teaching about them at universities and on PBS in a series of famous interviews with Bill Moyers, Smith describes how he attends to body, mind, spirit and love every day.  He awakens and engages in a yoga practice, although he no longer stands on his head at 90.  Body.  He reads something from one of the great religious texts of the world.  Mind.  He meditates and prays.  Spirit.  Smith describes the final portion of his spiritual practice this way:  “Mentally I take a census of the other residents here, and as each appears in my imagination, I ask how I might improve his or her day.”  Love.  (Huston Smith in Tales of Wonder).

We have likely all known someone who is living, nearer the end of their lives than the beginning, “not far” from the kingdom of God.  They have let go of many of their attachments to this world, and recognize that centrality of love to the story of their lives.  They love those around them with every fiber of their being as their physical strength wanes.  We have been blessed to have been loved by these saints.  Their lives show us the way.

These candles remind us that our own lives on this earth are fragile and fleeting.  Most days, we don’t think much about that.  But, today is a day to recognize that one day our name will be read, a bell rung, and a candle lighted.  What we do between now and that day matters.

And Jesus’ conversation with the scribe leaves us a precious pearl of wisdom by which we might be guided.  The kingdom of God is not a far away reward we work to earn.  It is something close and present, to be noticed and celebrated wherever and whenever love of God and neighbor is practiced.

Gathered community, sharing bread, witnessing to the glorious company of the saints of light, praying and thinking, working and resting, loving the folks in front of us by improving their day.  Do you see what to do?  Walk toward the light, follow the saints who know the way, love the folks you meet along the journey.  Do you hear what the saints are saying?  The kingdom of God is not far...  not far at all.