True Greatness – A Sermon preached on
September 22, 2024 at The Presbyterian Church of Dunmore, PA. Text: Mark 9. 30-37
Photo Credit, James E. Thyren, Stained Glass Window, The Presbyterian Church of Dunmore
It was one of those clear your calendar, shut-off your
cell phone, gather ‘round and listen up moments. It was a turn off the TV, come
into the kitchen, grab a cup of something and sit around the table, we have to
talk gathering. It was a close the door
behind you, write this down so you’ll remember it later occasion.
We’ve all been there. There is important information to be shared:
a job lost or found; a relationship beginning or coming to an end; a health
challenge to be faced rather than avoided; a problem in search of a solution;
an opportunity in need of an agreed upon strategy. Could be a circle of
siblings concerned about an aging parent.
Might be a corporate retreat to roll out a new product. Often it is a church Session or a community
advisory board trying to discern how to adapt to changing times. Or it could be
a leader trying to prepare followers for the future. We’ve all been there.
Way up north where the headwaters of the Jordan bubbled out of the ground at the Banyas Springs near Caesarea Philippi, the private instruction had begun with questions asked and answered; with Jesus’ identity as the Messiah revealed; with that title and roll redefined by suffering, the predic-tion of his arrest and rejection and death, all preceding something about rising again “after three days.”
That they understood none of it was
demonstrated by Peter, who gave Jesus a good talking to about not saying such
foolish things. Jesus, in turn, let
Peter know in no uncertain terms that he was out of line because he was looking
at things from the human side and had not yet discovered how God sees things.
Their inability to understand led to
a short burst of instruction indicating that the Way of Jesus was not the way
of the world. It was hard to grasp then,
and still is today.
“If any want to
become my followers,
let them deny
themselves
and take up their
cross and follow me.
For those who want
to save their life will lose it,
and those who lose
their life for my sake,
and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.”[ii]
Self-denial instead of
self-promotion? Losing one’s life on
behalf of Jesus instead of saving one’s life on behalf of the self? These are concepts that don’t make sense to
those who live by “me first” and for whom taking care of others sounds like
being played for a sucker. From the sandbox to foreign relations the Way of
Jesus is a very tough sell.
So the Teacher kept at it. He took
his three brightest pupils, Peter, James and John, and treated them to a
private lesson. While pondering in their hearts what sort of Messiah Jesus was
turning out to be, they found themselves on a mountaintop swept up in a vision
of Jesus having a little chat with Moses and Elijah.
Moses was the one through whom God’s
instructions for living had first been delivered. Elijah was one of the prophets
who reminded the people of those instructions whenever they forgot or ignored
them. To see Jesus standing with those
two sent a signal that he knew what he was talking about. That message was confirmed when God’s spoke:
Any
lingering doubt was dispelled when the cloud lifted and the disciples saw Jesus
standing there alone. Still, it was not
something they could share down in the valley, at least not yet. Jesus told
them to keep quiet “until the Son of Man had risen from the dead.”
Once down the mountain, they were
reunited with the rest of the disciples, who were in a brouhaha with some of
the scribes. A crowd had gathered to watch the fight. Jesus asked what was
going on. A man stepped up to say that
he had brought his son in the hope that Jesus might cure his son of the
epileptic seizures that often imperiled his life. Since Jesus hadn’t been around, the man had
asked his disciples to effect the cure, which they had been unable to
accomplish.
Mark breathlessly describes the
scene as it continues to unfold. The boy is convulsed by a seizure. Jesus asks how long these things have been
happening. The father explains they’ve been coming on him since childhood and describes
the horror of it all and the added danger when a seizure struck while the boy
was near a body of water or a cooking fire. The father ends his answer with a
plea:
“…you are able to
do anything for us,
have pity on us
and help us.”
Jesus said to him,
“If you are
able!---
All things can be
done for the one who believes.
Immediately the
father of the child cried out,
‘I believe; help my unbelief.’[iv]
Long story short, Jesus calls the
spirit out, the boy goes limp, observers conclude that he is dead, but Jesus
takes him by the hand and he stands up.
Puzzled, the disciples ask why they had not been able to help the boy.
Jesus says “This kind can come out only through prayer.” The disciples, and we who hear the tale told,
are left scratching our heads. If there
was a prayer, Mark failed to mention it or record its content. Unless he is talking about the prayer lifted
up by the boy’s father, one of the most honest prayers we will ever hear…or take
upon our lips:
“I believe; help my unbelief!”
When asked his favorite verse from
the Bible, one of the college chaplains I hung around with answered, “I
believe; help my unbelief.” I think it was because those words capture a truth
we don’t often admit to. I’m skeptical of anyone who says their faith has never
wavered, that their belief system has never been shaken.
It is reassuring that Jesus responded to the father’s
honest words. It is comforting to realize God doesn’t expect us to have it all
together all the time. It is helpful to know, that in those moments when
something in life has thrown us for a loop or someone we love to the ground,
there is an acceptable prayer to offer:
“I believe; help my unbelief.”
It is from the foot of the mountain
after the boy has been restored to health, that Jesus and his disciples make
their way to Galilee and to the next bit of instruction. Leaving the crowds
behind once more the teacher gets to work, telling them for the second time
what lies ahead:
“The Son of Man is
to be betrayed into human hands,
and they will kill
him,
and three days
after being killed,
he will rise again.”[v]
Even though they had heard this
before, they didn’t get it. It was a lot
to take in. It didn’t make sense that he
had to die. Even more baffling was the
bit about rising again after three days.
Mark tells us two things at this point:
“…they didn’t
understand what he was saying
and were afraid to ask him.”[vi]
Jill Duffield cuts the disciples some slack as she reflects on the moment. She asks: “How many times have we been afraid to ask – even when we knew we didn’t under-stand? How often has our fear of revealing our ignorance prevented us from a revelation, from a new way of seeing, from a deepened relationship? We know the saying ‘There are no stupid questions,’ and yet we do not ever want to appear stupid. It takes courage to raise our hand, stop the lecture, risk the annoyance of the teacher, face the eye rolls of our fellow students and say: ‘I have no idea what you are talking about.’[vii]
Maybe the disciples were afraid to
ask such a question because they remembered what happened the last time he spoke
about this. When Peter objected, Jesus
called him Satan. Look-ing stupid is one
thing, making Jesus mad is another. So
they decided to keep their mouths shut.
Sort of. The journey toward Jerusalem is paused when they come to Capernaum, which had been their headquarters in Galilee from the beginning. Behind closed doors, perhaps in Peter’s house where they had gathered before, Jesus asks what they have been talking about as they followed along behind him.
For the second time, they choose to
remain silent. You can imagine them looking down at their dusty sandals, avoiding
eye contact at all costs. Retired professor Harry Adams explains, and then
brings the story into our living space:
“This time the disciples seem to have been silent because they are ashamed to answer. ‘But they were silent, for on the way they had argued with one another who was the greatest,”[viii] (writes Mark) It is hard to imagine that the disciples had so little understanding of what Jesus had been saying to them that they would be arguing about which of them was the greatest. It is hard to imagine that, at least, until we realize how often we would be silent if Jesus were to confront us and ask us what we have been talking and fretting about. Some of us spend a lot of time worrying about our status, trying to get the symbols of prestige, and seeking to maneuver so that we get the acclaim.” Says Adams: “Many of us would fall silent if we were asked to explain how what we are doing and saying accords with the way of life Jesus sets before us.”[ix]
That’s when Jesus called another family meeting. When Mark tells us “he sat down,” and “called the twelve,” it is a signal not to be missed. In their culture, when a rabbi or a teacher declared class in session, he sat down to speak and called his students to gather around. Educator and activist Ched Myers notes that, the message we are meant to hear is clear and simple: “Pay attention to the teaching that follows.”[x]
Jesus offers two sayings. The first
turns each disciple’s wish to be the greatest on its head:
“Whoever wants to
be first must be last of all
and servant of all.”[xi]
That first saying challenges so much of what we hear about greatness. Conventional wisdom encourages us to strive to be the lead dog pulling the sled because the view of all the others is the same and none too pleasant. We are told that being number one means everyone else ought to serve us, march to our drumbeat, dance to our tune, fulfill our desires and demands.
Jesus begs to differ. True greatness is not what the world at the
time of Jesus thought it was, nor
is it now. Sinatra sang about being “king of the hill, A number one, the top of the heap,”[xiii] and that’s the kind of song the Roman Emperor thought said it all. Jesus sings
a different song, lived different lyrics. The greatness Jesus places before us
is not measured by the size of one’s house, the price of one’s car, or the
ability to boss people around. The greatness Jesus teaches is shown in how low
we will go in the very best way.
The saying about welcoming a child
is meant to drive that point home. In
order for us to grasp how shocking it was for Jesus to suggest welcoming a
child had anything to do with greatness, we must leave behind our culture’s
elevation of the child as a symbol of innocence and limit-less potential. Ched
Myers tells us where children stood:
“Children represented the bottom of the social and economic scale in terms of status and rights in the ancient Mediterranean world.”[xiv] William Placher amplifies the point: “The distinctive thing about children was their lack of any rights. A father could put a newborn outside to starve to death if he had wanted a boy and got a girl or if a baby seemed weak or handicapped. Children existed for the benefit of their parents—really their fathers.”[xv]
In contrast, the Letter of James
states that “Religion that is pure and undefiled by God…is to care for orphans
and widows in their distress.” Turns out James was on the same page as
Jesus…for a child, orphan or first born and future inheritor of the father’s
fortunes, were as low as you could get. They were the most vulnerable and the
least valued.
Lest we confuse this passage with
things Jesus said elsewhere, this is not the place where he urges disciples to
be childlike in their ability to trust.
Here he is advocating a radical level of care.
New Testament professor Sharon Ringe sharpens the Point when she writes: “This passage, then, is far from a saccharine scene in which Jesus cuddles sweet little children and welcomes them to Sun-day School. Instead, it is a powerful and even shocking depiction of the paradoxical values of God’s will and reign, which confront the dominant values of human societies and assign worth and importance to every person.”[xvi]
William Placher sums it up well, with a challenge to us all this morning. He said: “Welcoming children means helping the most vulnerable. Jesus is thus not urging childishness in any form on his disciples but telling them to stop competing about who will make the top and make sure they care for those on the bottom.”[xvii]
Today, among those at the bottom, the most vulnerable in need of care, are Haitian immigrants living in Springfield, Ohio. In the face of threats generated by claims proven false of eating cats and dogs, the churches of Springfield have followed the teachings of Jesus in standing up for their newest neighbors. The Presbyterian News Service reports that “The Rev. Jody Noble, pastor of Covenant Presbyterian Church in Springfield…has taken on…organizing and offering a press conference featuring her colleagues in ministry” to speak out in defense of their maligned neighbors. “…After two years of serving Covenant, Noble has baptized children of the Haitian families attending the church, who are present in worship nearly every Sunday. ‘If they’re not here, I get a text to say they are work-ing,’ Noble said. ‘They are beautiful people.’ She added, ‘To a person, employers will tell you that Haitian migrants “are fabulous to employ. They show up on time with good attitudes.” Covenant Presbyterians have cared for Haitian families with rides to church, car seats, bedding, food and other household items.” Reflecting on the recent need to speak out on their behalf Noble said: “This is how we responded, and this is how you can be ready for psycho-logical terrorism if it comes to your community.”[xviii]
What Jesus said to the disciples
about being servants of all, he says to us.
He calls us to serve those on the bottom, no matter what those at the
top try to tell us about them.
[ii] Mark 8. 34b-35
[iii] Mark 9. 7c
[iv] Mark 9. 14-24
[v] Mark 9. 31
[vi] Mark 9.32
[vii] Jill Duffield, The Presbyterian Outlook, “Looking into the Lectionary – Are you afraid to ask? Tuesday, Sept. 18, 2018.
[viii] Mark 9. 34
[ix] Harry B. Adams, Feasting on the Word, Year B, Volume 4, Pastoral Perspective, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009), p. 94
[x] Ched Myers, Binding the Strong Man, (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 1988), p. 260
[xi] Mark 9. 35
[xii] Mark 9. 37
[xiii] a phrase from the song, “New York, New York.”
[xiv] ibid, Myers, p. 260-1
[xv] William C. Placher, Mark – Belief – A Theological Commentary on the Bible, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010), p. 134-5
[xvi] Sharon H. Ringe, Feasting on the Word, Year B, Volume 4, Exegetical Perspective, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009), p. 97
[xvii] ibid., Placher p. 135
[xviii] Mike Ferguson, “Covenant Presbyterian Church in Springfield, Ohio ministers to its community, including its
Haitian siblings.” Presbyterian News Service, September 19, 2024
.JPG)
