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The Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost Mark 9:30-37 |
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There they go: a group of men and women with Jesus at their head. No army--no mob--just men and women, disciples and followers, headed somewhere, marching into tomorrow, with Jesus leading the way. They are a people who are campaign tough, travel ready, used to a life on the move, & of trying to keep up with the one ahead. They are a group of men and women convinced that their time has come. They had given up plenty to be here: their jobs, their families, their homes. Peter had finally confessed their hope--that Jesus was the Christ, the Son of the living God. And now they could feel the tension--the electricity--in the air. They knew that the kingdom Jesus had proclaimed was about to become a reality. They were on their way to Jerusalem to establish the reign of Christ. And surely, they supposed, they would have their place in it. Surely, this was a glory march. Oh, there had been some confusing talk along the way, some cryptic message from Jesus about dying and being raised again in three days. The excitement for what lay ahead was laced with an uneasy foreboding. Yet they followed. They wanted to follow; they had to. Their whole life was staked on it. And so, they put this confusing and unwanted talk about death behind them and they made their way--on this glory march--toward Jerusalem. Why was it then that their feet seemed to lag and their steps shuffle as they came closer to their destination? And why was it that the one who spoke of "impending doom" strode ahead at an undaunted pace with his face set toward the holy city? If this was a glory march, why were they suddenly afraid, uncomfortable, taken with a sense of dread? Somewhere along the way on that hot road between Galilee and Jerusalem, the disciples began to argue with one another about who would be the greatest in the kingdom. Disconcerted with conflicting signals of triumph and disaster, they opened themselves to the burning temptation of personal ambition. Two of them even came to Jesus and ask outright: "Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left in your glory." What did they mean by his “glory”? It didn't matter. They truly did want to follow him, wherever and whatever. Yet, ironically, they weren't following him at all. For to follow this leader into his glory, they would have to pick up more than their pace; they would have to offer more than their courage; they would have to suffer more than just the loss of self-pride. I have a priest friend who tells the story a parish picnic that took place at the old home-place of one of his parishioners. And he said he happened to notice that some of the 3 and 4 year-olds had gathered around an old dried up cistern, and that a couple of them were on their bellies reaching down towards something at the bottom. When he walked over to get the kids away and to see what they were after, he said his heart almost stopped. For there at the bottom of the hole was a huge copperhead with half its length stretched up in the air trying as hard to reach the kids as they were trying to reach it. "Never," he said, "have I seen a more pointed example of the difference between what people want and what they really need." The last thing servants need--whatever they may want--are places of honor. What the disciples wanted, the idea they had in mind, would have been as deadly to the cause of Jesus and to the kingdom he proclaimed, as that snake would have been to those children. The disciples thought they were following Jesus, but they had lost their way. Sometimes we get lost too. In the chaos of our time, in the ambition of our hearts, we lose sight of what it is to follow the one who leads us into our mission. Even the church itself seems to keep losing its way, too forgetful of what Jesus time and again told his disciples: "If you want to follow me, if you want to be like me and to do my will--then SERVE. If you want to be first, then you have to become last. If you want to be great in my kingdom, then you have to become servant of all." "For who is greater, a little child or a mighty king? But I receive the child. And who is greater, the one who sits at table or the one who serves? But I have come among you as one who serves." We sons [and daughters] of thunder would storm the palace and seek places of glory, but the Son of man will go where there is no place to lay his head in order to serve. Service, service, service, sacrificial service. It’s all through the gospels. Jesus' intention and goal for all of us who claim to be his followers is clear. So why do we get lost, off seeking glory places (seats)? The gospel word, the Greek word, for table servant, is diacona. It doesn't mean maitre d; it's meaning is much closer to "bus boy." Those who would follow Jesus are people who, in response to God's serving them, can do nothing less than live out their lives in service to God and God's people. Service is not just one aspect of the church, it is the church in every aspect of its being. The church is the servant body of Christ that is led by the Spirit to go beyond itself for the sake of others. We may stumble along. Things may not turn out exactly according to our design. But we like that original band of men and women who followed Jesus even as he entered the city of sacrifice, we keep on going after him. And we strive to become more like him. Those disciples who argued about who would be the greatest in the kingdom continued to learn from Jesus, until their own deaths, what it's like to be a servant in that kingdom. And by God's grace, so will we. We may stumble along the way--trying to serve, wanting to serve--but, ultimately, what will keep us on his road is simply staying behind him. Following him. By the grace of God, there he goes, and there we go behind--still lagging, still shuffling our feet, still hoping for glory, but still forgiven and accepted and loved by God. We are Christ's vagabonds, the Lord's servants, the precious people of God. Encouraged; Empowered; and Embraced.
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