When Heaven Tears Open: The Disruption That Changes Everything
Sermon Link: Disruption Before Revelation
*Blog inspired by Pastor Thomas Cornette's sermon
There's something unsettling about the beginning of Mark's Gospel. No gentle introduction, no warm-up, no easing into the story. Instead, we're thrown into the deep end with a strange man in the wilderness, wearing camel hair, eating locusts and honey, shouting a message no one particularly wants to hear: Repent.
This isn't how movements typically launch. This isn't the marketing strategy anyone would choose. And yet, this jarring beginning reveals something profound about how God works in our lives.
The Blueprint of Everything
Before Jesus calls anyone, before He heals anyone, before the cross and the empty tomb, something extraordinary happens. The heavens tear open, and God declares who Jesus is. Mark gives away the punchline in the very first verse: "The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God."
Why reveal the ending at the beginning? Because everything that follows hinges on Jesus' identity. Without understanding who He is, nothing else matters. The central question isn't just theological or intellectual, it's deeply personal and practical: Who do you believe Jesus is?
Not in theory. Not on paper. But functionally. In your anxiety. In your choices. In your struggles. In your priorities. Because if Jesus truly is the Son of God, then everything changes.
The Mercy of Disruption
John the Baptist appears in the wilderness with an uncomfortable message. He doesn't maintain the religious status quo. He doesn't promise that following the rules will earn God's favor. Instead, he calls people to repentance, to acknowledge that they can't save themselves and to prepare for something entirely new.
The call to repentance unsettles comfort. It strips away our carefully constructed religious normalcy. And here's the challenging question: Where are you getting comfortable with something God might be trying to confront?
Most of us don't go to the doctor hoping for bad news. We don't schedule appointments excited about the possibility of a serious diagnosis. But if something is genuinely wrong, the worst thing a doctor could do is say nothing. A diagnosis disrupts your peace, yes, but it opens the door to healing.
What if disruption is actually mercy? What if it names what's broken so healing can begin?
Repentance isn't about religious guilt or feeling bad about yourself and promising to try harder. It's about clearing space so you can see Jesus clearly. It's about acknowledging the diagnosis so treatment can start.
Jesus Steps Into the Water
But notice that God doesn't leave us with just the diagnosis. Jesus steps into the water almost immediately. The cure shows up right after the exposure.
Jesus enters the Jordan River. Waters meant for repentance, confession, and cleansing. But He doesn't need to confess anything. He doesn't need cleansing. He enters to stand where sinners stand. He identifies before He instructs.
This is revolutionary. Jesus isn't on the sidelines shouting instructions from the shore. He's not keeping His hands clean in a sterile environment. No, He steps into the mess, into the dirt and pain and brokenness. He declares through this action that God is not distant, absent, uncaring, or apathetic.
Here's what this means for us: You don't have to clean yourself up before you come to Jesus. You don't have to fix yourself before you follow Him. The message of the gospel is the exact opposite. He came to call broken people.
But it also means this: If He's willing to step into our mess, we don't get to keep pretending there isn't a mess. We can't keep acting like everything's business as usual.
There's a profound difference between a teacher who stays behind a desk explaining things from a distance and one who pulls up a chair beside you to work through the problem together. Jesus is the second kind. He doesn't shout instructions from afar. He steps into the water where sinners are.
Heaven Breaks Through
Then something unprecedented happens. The heavens don't gently part, they tear open. The same word Mark later uses to describe the temple veil being torn at Jesus' crucifixion. Heaven is breaking through. Jesus is tearing down the barrier between God and humanity. And from that tear, the Father speaks: "You are my beloved Son. With you I am well pleased."
Before a single miracle, before any sermon, before the cross, Jesus' identity is declared and confirmed from heaven itself. Before anyone else gets to define Him—before religious leaders, political powers, or public opinion can label Him—the Creator defines Him. Because that's what the Creator does. The Creator defines, and the creation listens.
Who Defines You?
This raises an uncomfortable question: Who gets to define your identity?
Do you base your identity on your performance? Your past? Your success or failure? Your bank account? Do you let culture define you? Social media? Or do you let the Creator, the voice of God, define you?
We've never liked this arrangement. From the very beginning, humans have wanted to self-define. We want to decide who we are, what we are, and what we're going to do. We resist letting our Creator explain our purpose because we think we know better. But when heaven tears open and God speaks, that self-definition comes to an end. This moment cannot be ignored.
The Sign That Demands a Response
There are moments in life when something is declared, and from that moment on, nothing can be the same. When a judge declares an adoption, nothing looks different immediately, but everything has changed. Identity is settled before the future is understood.
Or imagine driving down a road and seeing a flashing sign: "Bridge Out Ahead." It doesn't explain the situation. It doesn't tell you the new route. But it tells you one critical thing: you cannot keep going in this direction.
Once that sign is seen, you must make a decision. You can't keep going.
That's Mark chapter one. Identity is declared. The direction of the story changes. And a response is required.
What to Expect When You Follow Jesus
Some of us are waiting to understand everything before we obey anything. But faith rarely works that way. Sometimes the only sign you get is the one that says you can't keep going in your current direction. If you follow Jesus, expect your schedule to be disrupted. Expect your comfort to be challenged. Expect your priorities to be reordered.
But also expect life, deeper, truer, freer life than you've ever experienced. Life with Jesus.
Every encounter with Jesus disrupts what cannot stay the same in order to bring about new life. The true life you were created for.
The question remains: How will you respond?
Who do you say Jesus is? And what are you going to do with that information?
You can't keep acting like the information isn't there in front of you. A decision must be made.
Will you follow, or will you walk away?
*Blog inspired by Pastor Thomas Cornette's sermon
There's something unsettling about the beginning of Mark's Gospel. No gentle introduction, no warm-up, no easing into the story. Instead, we're thrown into the deep end with a strange man in the wilderness, wearing camel hair, eating locusts and honey, shouting a message no one particularly wants to hear: Repent.
This isn't how movements typically launch. This isn't the marketing strategy anyone would choose. And yet, this jarring beginning reveals something profound about how God works in our lives.
The Blueprint of Everything
Before Jesus calls anyone, before He heals anyone, before the cross and the empty tomb, something extraordinary happens. The heavens tear open, and God declares who Jesus is. Mark gives away the punchline in the very first verse: "The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God."
Why reveal the ending at the beginning? Because everything that follows hinges on Jesus' identity. Without understanding who He is, nothing else matters. The central question isn't just theological or intellectual, it's deeply personal and practical: Who do you believe Jesus is?
Not in theory. Not on paper. But functionally. In your anxiety. In your choices. In your struggles. In your priorities. Because if Jesus truly is the Son of God, then everything changes.
The Mercy of Disruption
John the Baptist appears in the wilderness with an uncomfortable message. He doesn't maintain the religious status quo. He doesn't promise that following the rules will earn God's favor. Instead, he calls people to repentance, to acknowledge that they can't save themselves and to prepare for something entirely new.
The call to repentance unsettles comfort. It strips away our carefully constructed religious normalcy. And here's the challenging question: Where are you getting comfortable with something God might be trying to confront?
Most of us don't go to the doctor hoping for bad news. We don't schedule appointments excited about the possibility of a serious diagnosis. But if something is genuinely wrong, the worst thing a doctor could do is say nothing. A diagnosis disrupts your peace, yes, but it opens the door to healing.
What if disruption is actually mercy? What if it names what's broken so healing can begin?
Repentance isn't about religious guilt or feeling bad about yourself and promising to try harder. It's about clearing space so you can see Jesus clearly. It's about acknowledging the diagnosis so treatment can start.
Jesus Steps Into the Water
But notice that God doesn't leave us with just the diagnosis. Jesus steps into the water almost immediately. The cure shows up right after the exposure.
Jesus enters the Jordan River. Waters meant for repentance, confession, and cleansing. But He doesn't need to confess anything. He doesn't need cleansing. He enters to stand where sinners stand. He identifies before He instructs.
This is revolutionary. Jesus isn't on the sidelines shouting instructions from the shore. He's not keeping His hands clean in a sterile environment. No, He steps into the mess, into the dirt and pain and brokenness. He declares through this action that God is not distant, absent, uncaring, or apathetic.
Here's what this means for us: You don't have to clean yourself up before you come to Jesus. You don't have to fix yourself before you follow Him. The message of the gospel is the exact opposite. He came to call broken people.
But it also means this: If He's willing to step into our mess, we don't get to keep pretending there isn't a mess. We can't keep acting like everything's business as usual.
There's a profound difference between a teacher who stays behind a desk explaining things from a distance and one who pulls up a chair beside you to work through the problem together. Jesus is the second kind. He doesn't shout instructions from afar. He steps into the water where sinners are.
Heaven Breaks Through
Then something unprecedented happens. The heavens don't gently part, they tear open. The same word Mark later uses to describe the temple veil being torn at Jesus' crucifixion. Heaven is breaking through. Jesus is tearing down the barrier between God and humanity. And from that tear, the Father speaks: "You are my beloved Son. With you I am well pleased."
Before a single miracle, before any sermon, before the cross, Jesus' identity is declared and confirmed from heaven itself. Before anyone else gets to define Him—before religious leaders, political powers, or public opinion can label Him—the Creator defines Him. Because that's what the Creator does. The Creator defines, and the creation listens.
Who Defines You?
This raises an uncomfortable question: Who gets to define your identity?
Do you base your identity on your performance? Your past? Your success or failure? Your bank account? Do you let culture define you? Social media? Or do you let the Creator, the voice of God, define you?
We've never liked this arrangement. From the very beginning, humans have wanted to self-define. We want to decide who we are, what we are, and what we're going to do. We resist letting our Creator explain our purpose because we think we know better. But when heaven tears open and God speaks, that self-definition comes to an end. This moment cannot be ignored.
The Sign That Demands a Response
There are moments in life when something is declared, and from that moment on, nothing can be the same. When a judge declares an adoption, nothing looks different immediately, but everything has changed. Identity is settled before the future is understood.
Or imagine driving down a road and seeing a flashing sign: "Bridge Out Ahead." It doesn't explain the situation. It doesn't tell you the new route. But it tells you one critical thing: you cannot keep going in this direction.
Once that sign is seen, you must make a decision. You can't keep going.
That's Mark chapter one. Identity is declared. The direction of the story changes. And a response is required.
What to Expect When You Follow Jesus
Some of us are waiting to understand everything before we obey anything. But faith rarely works that way. Sometimes the only sign you get is the one that says you can't keep going in your current direction. If you follow Jesus, expect your schedule to be disrupted. Expect your comfort to be challenged. Expect your priorities to be reordered.
But also expect life, deeper, truer, freer life than you've ever experienced. Life with Jesus.
Every encounter with Jesus disrupts what cannot stay the same in order to bring about new life. The true life you were created for.
The question remains: How will you respond?
Who do you say Jesus is? And what are you going to do with that information?
You can't keep acting like the information isn't there in front of you. A decision must be made.
Will you follow, or will you walk away?
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