Go to the Sermons' home page.
Visit the archives and read all our sermons. Below is a list of the last 10 sermons.
Listen to audio version of this sermon.
September 24, 2006Jesus and his disciples went on from there and passed through Galilee. He did not want anyone to know it; for he was teaching his disciples, saying to them, "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." But they did not understand what he was saying and were afraid to ask him.
Then they came to Capernaum; and when he was in the house he asked them, "What were you arguing about on the way?" But they were silent, for on the way they had argued with one another who was the greatest. He sat down, called the twelve, and said to them, "Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all." Then he took a little child and put it among them; and taking it in his arms, he said to them, "Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me."
Is it that difficult to believe that the disciples were actually arguing about who would be the greatest? What would an open discussion about that really be like among a group of followers? And if this kind of jockeying for position was true of the disciples, isn’t it a little surprising that the gospels don’t record any holy fistfights or other forms of destructive competition among them. We can almost hear the disciples saying ridiculous things like “You know I’m one of his favorites because he took me up the mountain with him.” Or “Well, I’ve been entrusted with the funds so I’m certainly part of his inner circle.” Or Peter, “Well I was the one who recognized him as the messiah and that settles it.”
And of course we would never be caught saying things like that around the water cooler or to our allies over lunch. The point that Jesus is trying to communicate in this passage is hard for us moderns to understand given as we are to competition and to winning. We seek power and prominence as though they are our right, as if there were nothing wrong with the goal of being acclaimed as first and best at sports, at work, in the church, in the nation, in the world. While we may be tempted to think of the disciples as ridiculous, a little personal reflection could easily expose our desires to climb one ladder or another regardless of whether that means stepping on others along the way.
The basic problem with the disciples seems to be that they think they have arrived when in fact their journey into servanthood has just begun. This for me is what these road-trip arguments about greatness demonstrate. They think they know enough about Jesus to create a pecking order, a hierarchy around Jesus. They were pleased as punch to have been found and selected by this sensational leader but being in his inner circle was not enough. In their humanness they all want to test the limits of the relationship, to attempt to discern how important they are to Jesus. Life on the back roads and in the villages of Palestine had its drawbacks but it beat the fishing industry hands down. They were enjoying the perks of following Jesus that had already come their way and were anticipating the goodies that would certainly come their way once their teacher was in charge of the whole country. Now what they wanted to know was where they would sit around the cabinet table.
It was only gradually and with great reluctance that the disciples began to understand that Jesus’ way of life held out a different model, that Jesus himself had a different agenda. Jesus intended to turn the world on its head, to reverse the usual pecking order. He kept saying these incredibly strange and enigmatic things. “The Son of Man must suffer and be killed and on the third day he will rise again.” "Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all."
And then one day as if in explanation of his strange sayings and in response to more jostling for position Jesus brought a child into their midst, simply placing them there as a kind of living parable of the kingdom. "Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me."
To simply consider the physical dynamics of the story are startling. Jesus breaks open the inner circle of the disciples to let in a new member. The new member is a child who is not only brought into the group but is placed at its center, taken into the arms of the beloved. Who is at the bosom of Jesus? Not the beloved disciple or the brightest and best, but the most vulnerable, the most fragile, the most needy. Commentators such as John Pilch tell us that in first-century Mediterranean culture children did not count for anything except as potential adults; they were least important, almost as valueless as slaves, who were more likely to provide enough labor to compensate for their food. So when Jesus makes an example of a child and states that whoever welcomes a child in his name welcomes him and the one who sent him, he is underlining his preceding statement that whoever wants to be in charge must be last of all and slave of all.
This is a radical overturning of the usual social order, setting a pattern for his followers that still challenges our culture's values. In Jesus’ kingdom one doesn’t become great by position or self-promotion or by simply knowing the right people. If you want to be first you need to embrace the path of humble servanthood.
I have always found it strangely comforting that Jesus appeals to our desire to be first in his radical reordering of the world. It is all right to want to be first just as long as you know what it will mean. It meant the cross for Jesus. For us it means walking in the footsteps of Jesus, discovering a way of life that is centered in humble service toward and for others. It will mean having our competitive nature purified by the fire of God’s Holy Spirit. Jesus is telling his disciples that they are called to be a servant community. The Christian community is one that will be marked and recognized by its loving and humble acts of service in the world and for one another. I wonder if that is what the people of Albuquerque say about St. Michael’s. “Look how they love one another, look how they serve this city.” In the Episcopal Church Deacons are ordained to a special ministry of service to remind all Christians of their calling as servants. At their ordination deacons are told by the bishop “In the name of Christ, you are to serve the poor, the weak, the sick, and the lonely. And later, “At all times, your life and teaching are to show Christ’s people that in serving the helpless they are serving Christ himself.” (BCP. 543)
There is much to be said concerning the cultivation of servanthood in our lives. It is a very different thing to act like a servant and quite another to be a servant. If we are to enter this way of life we will learn the difference between true service and self-righteous service. Self-righteous service comes through human effort. It expends a great deal of energy calculating and scheming how to render the service. True service comes from one’s relationship with Christ deep inside the heart. In true service energy is needed, but it is not the frantic energy of the flesh trying to be recognized. We all know something about self-righteous service that is always trying to make a big splash, gain recognition and in so doing put others in its debt. Self-righteous service requires external rewards and praise while true service is open to both small or large acts of service and rests content in hiddenness. True service does not fear the lights and blare of attention but at the same time it does not seek them. For true servants, feeling God’s pleasure is reward enough.
It is my guess that talking about the difference between true service and self-righteous service is revealing for most of us. We all know people, certainly no one here, who serve in a way that seems to ensure they are solidly in the martyr category. Their service seems like such a burden and they want to make sure we know about it. We realize that too often our service is rendered in the hopes of great results and the eagerness to see if the person served will reciprocate. I realize that all too often I am very selective in whom I choose to serve. At times the influential and powerful are served to ensure a kind of advantage, while at times the poor and defenseless are served to create a humble image.
Richard J. Foster in his classic book Celebration of Discipline relates a story that illustrates our struggles with a life of service:
During the frantic final throes of writing my doctoral dissertation I received a phone call from a friend. His wife had taken the car and he wondered if I could take him on a number of errands. Trapped, I consented, inwardly cursing my luck. As I ran out the door, I grabbed Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s Life Together, thinking that I might have an opportunity to read in it. Through each errand I inwardly fretted and fumed at the loss of precious time. Finally, at a supermarket, the final stop, I waved my friend on, saying I would wait in the car. I picked up my book, opened it to the marker, and read these words: “The second service that one should perform for another in a Christian community is that of active helpfulness. This means, initially, simple assistance in trifling, external matters. There is a multitude of these things wherever people live together. Nobody is too good for the meanest service. One who worries about the loss of time that such petty, outward acts of helpfulness entail is usually taking the importance of his or her own career too solemnly.” (Celebration of Discipline p. 135).
Taking their careers too solemnly the disciples found themselves staring into the eyes of a child. I wonder what this image of Jesus putting a child at the center of his followers that day might say to us today? Surely it reminds us that we have a special responsibility to children in our midst for their safety and their nurture in knowledge and love of the Lord. I wonder if we as a servant community at St. Michael’s can begin to imagine what it might mean to have children at the center of our life? So often the Episcopal Church has understood itself as a church for adults. Can we allow the parable of Jesus placing a child in the center of his inner circle to enliven our hearts and ministry toward children in this place? Are there parents that need the support and care and resources of our faith community in raising their children? Do we as a community of servants understand ourselves as a vital, an essential part of that village that raises children to know and love God? Are we one of the institutions that parents in our community can count on to help them shape the character of their children or must they depend on the schools? Do we as a servant people understand the vulnerability of children in the world and reach out protect and receive them in Christ’s name?
Long ago a man who mentored me in the Christian faith told me that you can tell a lot about people’s spiritual lives from the way they treat waiters and the way they care for children. I must say I’ve found this to be true. The way we treat those who wait on us, tells a great deal about what we think of the servant's way of life. Are we gracious, or difficult and demanding? Are we good tippers or tightwads toward those who serve us? Since children cannot advocate for themselves, are we conscious of their needs, patient with them and alive to the wonder that they bring into our lives? I have often had to remind parishioners that the sound of children in worship is the sound of vitality and hope for a congregation. Our responses tell us whether we truly understand life as a gracious gift from God’s hand.
Jesus called his disciples into a life of servanthood following his example. The risen Christ beckons us to a life of service also. We have not yet arrived, our journey into servanthood continues. Cultivating such a life is to become like Jesus, willing to open our circle to include those in need and those who are all too easily overlooked. Such a life flows out of our abiding relationship with Christ and is the path to life and joy and peace. You and I may not know exactly where to begin but perhaps this prayer is a good place to start, “Lord, Jesus, as it would please you bring me someone today whom I may serve.” Amen.
End Document — St. Michael and All Angels Episcopal Church