17th Sunday after Pentecost
September 20, 2015
James 3:13-4:3, 7-8a; Mark 9:30-37
There’s
an old Abbott and Costello baseball joke where they’re presumably naming the
players on a baseball team, except the names and nicknames of the players can
be interpreted as unhelpful answers to questions instead. You may have heard it. For example, the first baseman’s name is Who
and so “Who’s on first.” The second
baseman is named What, and you get the question, “What’s on second?” and so
forth. Well, the disciples this morning
are playing a similar version of this game, except they are debating amongst
themselves who is the greatest, who’s on first.
This
Gospel lesson from Mark is a story about Jesus teaching his disciples while
they’re traveling. Traveling can be a
good time to teach something; you have a captive audience and learning is a great
way to pass the time while you’re between Point A and Point B. Unfortunately, the disciples are behaving
much like children and are extra whiny and stubborn while Jesus is trying to
teach them. Jesus says the Son of Man
will be betrayed and killed, and three days later will rise again. The disciples don’t understand, and for some
reason, they’re afraid to ask him to explain what he means. Then Jesus asks them what they were arguing
about on the trip, as if Jesus didn’t know, and again they don’t say anything,
acting a bit like sheepish children with their hand caught in the cookie
jar. They knew better than to be so
inwardly focused, arguing about who among them was the greatest. They’ve been with Jesus long enough to know
that we shouldn’t boast and brag on ourselves.
That’s not Jesus’ way. And so
Jesus continues to teach them, saying that whoever wants to be first must be
last and servant of all. Then Jesus
picks up a child, and says, “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name
welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.”[1]
We’ll
see next week how the disciples are finally ready to start talking with Jesus
and asking him questions and asking him to explain things. But this week, they’re silent. They have no direct speaking parts although
we know the topic of their conversation.
The disciples this week are very inwardly focused, arguing about which
one of them is Jesus’ right-hand man, which one of them is the best, the
greatest, the one most deserving to be number two in command. You have to keep in mind, even though Jesus
is teaching them about his upcoming suffering, death, and resurrection, they
don’t understand it yet (they actually never get it until after it
happens). And so, in the meantime, they
think Jesus is ushering in a new kingdom.
They think this is King Jesus, who will bring about a political,
geographic kingdom after he overthrows the current government. And they’re part of his army, so to speak, this
weird, random, ragtag army of fishermen and tax collectors and social nobody’s,
hoping to become upwardly mobile by hanging out with Jesus. He promised them great things! He promised them a new kingdom, a new
government. And they’ve seen his
miracles! Mark records many, many miraculous
healings in his Gospel, plus events like walking on water and feeding thousands
of people with just five loaves and two fish.
The disciples know Jesus is capable of delivering; it’s not a matter of
faith anymore. They have seen with their
own eyes what Jesus is able to do. And
when he becomes the next king, overthrowing the Roman Empire, they’re going to all
drive around in new Lexuses, or whatever the status symbol was in first century
Palestine. You see, this is all about
power. Jesus is powerful, and Jesus is
bringing about God’s kingdom. You hang
out with the powerful when they become rulers and it’s assumed that you become
part of their Cabinet or Council or whoever it is they gather around them to
help rule. So, the disciples want to
know, who’s number two? Which one of the
twelve is second in command?
Obviously,
the disciples never read James, who says to show that you are wise by living
humbly, to not be jealous or have selfish ambitions, and to not brag.[2] Bragging and trying to promote themselves are
what caused the disciples’ argument in the first place. Bragging and boasting and putting yourself
first and looking out for number one is what the world says to do. Yet those things lead to jealousy and selfish
ambition, and James is clear that where there is envy and selfishness, there is
also disorder and every kind of evil.[3] The disciples’ argument is one such example
of this chaos created by jealousy and selfishness. “Whenever you’re trying to look better than
others or get the better of others, things fall apart and everyone ends up at
the others’ throats.”[4] Being so concerned with yourself causes
division and conflict. It’s true, the
world says, “Look out for number one, because no one else will do it for you.
Put yourself first.” In contrast, God
says “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your
soul, and with all your mind… And you shall love your neighbor as yourself.”[5] God says he goes first, not you, and he says
that your neighbor is equal to you, not better or worse.
In
contrast to the world’s wisdom, God’s wisdom is “peaceful, gentle, obedient,
filled with mercy and good actions, fair, and genuine,”[6] and
that’s how you love God first and love your neighbor as yourself. Without partiality, without hypocrisy, “you
can develop a healthy, robust community that lives right with God and enjoy its
results only if you do the hard work of getting along with each other, treating
each other with dignity and honor.”[7] “Those who make peace sow the seeds of
justice by their peaceful acts.”[8] Peaceful actions are what we are to be about,
and we’re not doing that if we’re being selfish, or arguing over who’s the
greatest, or being jealous that we’re not like others. We are ourselves, we are becoming who God
created us to be since the beginning of time.
We’re not other people, people who are prettier or richer or seem to
have their life more together. And we’re
not other churches, bigger churches, richer churches, churches that appear to
attract everyone. There is a place for
them, and there is a place for us. “What
causes conflict among you?” asks James?[9]
And the answer is wanting to be someone we’re not, wanting something we don’t
have, being jealous for something we can’t get.
Instead, those who are at peace, those who make peace, are those who
accept who God created them to be, who accept their gifts and their flaws, who
work to use their flaws to God’s glory.
James says, “You do not have what you want because you do not ask God
for it. And when you ask, you do not
receive it, because your motives are bad; you ask for things to use for your
own pleasures.”[10] Do you ask for things for yourself? Or do you ask for things to use to honor
God?
Lord,
make us a healthy, thriving church again.
But don’t do it for us. Do it for
you. Use us to accomplish your will; use
us, not to make us great and so that others might look at us; use us so that
others will look at you and see you. Make
us conduits and bridges. Fill us, not
for our own sake, but for your sake, as you draw all people to you. We are here, Lord, to be used by you, and we
don’t ask anything out of it in return.
This is not a favor. You are not
a vending machine, where we can put in a dollar or a request and expect exactly
what we pick out in return. Mold us and
shape us, Lord, to become more like you, for the sake of the Gospel.
This
brings us back around to our Gospel reading and those children at the end of
it. You see, welcoming a child is its
own reward. Children can’t give you
anything in return for ministering to them.
“[Your] motives cannot be to gain anything that the child can give
[you].”[11] We minister to them knowing they can’t offer
us anything in return that we can use.
If we’re lucky, we may get a smile or a hug, but one thing I have
learned the past three years is that being a parent is often a thankless job
(at least until your children realize it and starting thanking you!). You wash feet, you clean up after them, there
are endless loads of laundry and the house always needs picking up. It’s not worth it because of any monetary
value or authority or power gained by doing it, or any promise of security. It’s only worth doing because when we welcome
a child, we find we are also welcoming Jesus, and not only him, but the One who
sent him. There is no give and take in a
relationship with a child. And the one
Jesus pulled on his lap two thousand years ago probably didn’t look like any of
the children here among us this morning.
This child would have been grubby, unwashed, slimy, and dirty. Children in the first century were simply
considered replacement adults and the property of their father. They weren’t of any more value than the
cattle, and so they generally ran wild.
This is not a child who is washed and in their Sunday best (or the best
that you were willing to settle for, because you have to pick your battles in
order to get to church on time!) That’s
who Jesus picked up and invited his disciples to welcome. The disciples wanted both God’s kingdom to
succeed and for their own positions of authority to be guaranteed. They wanted God to succeed, and a reward for
being on God’s team. But God doesn’t
work that way. We are to pursue God’s
ways and God, not God’s ways and ourselves.
You can’t have it both ways.
Welcoming a child guarantees no reward.
Working for God’s kingdom guarantees no reward. We do it simply because he calls us to put
him first, and not ourselves.
I’d like to close this morning with a prayer from the
Book of Common Prayer that the pastor of the church we went to when I was in
high school used as the closing benediction:
“This
is another day, O Lord. We know not what
it will bring forth, but make us ready, Lord, for whatever it may be. If we are to stand up, help us to stand
bravely. If we are to sit still, help us
to sit quietly. If we are to lie low,
help us to do it patiently. And if we
are to do nothing, let us do it gallantly.
Make these words more than words, and give us the Spirit of Jesus. Amen.”[12]
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