Mark 9:30-37

September 19, Pentecost 17, Proper 20 | Mark 9:30-37 | by Evan McClanahan |

In the 5^th grade, I played football. It may surprise you to learn that I was one of the fastest players on the team. In a big game in a big moment against our fiercest rival, the First Baptist Patriots, I made a devastating interception of an errant pass. I don’t know if I just fell down or if I dove for the ball. But the ball was in my arms, I was on the ground, and we either won the game or lost by less than we usually do.

So, naturally, at the end of the season party, I was in the mix for MVP. Several friends thought I had a good chance, slightly more than a dark horse, but probably not as much a shoo-in as the coach’s son, the quarterback, or his best friend, our running back. Well, as it turns out, I was not the MVP for the Riverside Rams in 1990. That title will forever belong to…well, I don’t remember. I just know it wasn’t me.

That hope of recognition really isn’t unusual on a sports team, in a business, in politics, civic organizations, or the local PTO. People want to know that they are appreciated, that they are good at what they do, or where they stand in relation to others. If you aren’t the leader, you at least want to know who is next in line. I mean, you have plans to make, right? If you aren’t going to be promoted, it may be time to look at another company. Or if you won’t be elevated to the honored seat in the synagogue, perhaps you will inquire as to whether the rabbi down the road is looking for a new assistant? Or maybe you should try you own luck as head honcho?

Indeed, while they were probably considered a bit untoward in Jesus’ day, these kinds of debates were probably quite common, even in rabbinic circles. In a rabbinic school, there was no question who the leader was. But there can also be no question that the students were, and to this day still are, quite ambitious. They did not made significant sacrifices and choices to end up an also-ran. They wanted to be significant and note-worthy. To receive the praise of their rabbi meant a lot to them. They, just as we all would, wanted to tell their parents that their choice to follow Rabbi So-And-So was the right one. “See, he just moved me up to a leadership role!”

So, to put the best light on Jesus’ disciples, what they were discussing on the way was, well, embarrassing, but not necessarily odd. It indicates their ignorance and naivete, especially as Mark pairs this episode with Jesus teaching that the Son of Man will soon be betrayed, and killed, and risen three days later. It’s almost comic how Jesus has this devastating prophecy for them and their response is to shrug and carry on with an argument about who has the best track record so far. “Well, I cast out 6 demons, healed 2 people, and have a perfect attendance record!” “Oh yeah, well, I cast out 7 demons, healed 3 people, and only missed once due to a family emergency!”

Jesus, lovingly and patiently as always, steers the disciples away from their embarrassing adventures in pride and towards the radical way of life that those disciples and all future disciples would be called: service. And speaking of embarrassing, he did so in the most embarrassing way possible, a teaching moment we sentimentalize, but was on the verge of a humiliation for his disciples.

First, Jesus sits down, which is an indication he has something serious and important to say and you might as well get comfortable. When a rabbi sits, the important stuff is coming. He then takes a child and uses that child as an example. Children, remember, were to be seen and not heard. Children were barely above a slave in the household. An ideal example to lift up would not be a child, but a great man: someone wise, accomplished, wealthy, perhaps a military general or a philosopher or, of course, a great rabbi.

The disciples would have treated children the same way they were treated as children: dismissively, rudely, and with disdain. Children were an example of nothing. They needed to taught their place. This was not the era of self-esteem. Everyone didn’t get a trophy. In fact, there were no sports leagues for children, no schools, no gymnasiums, no arcades, no television channels, no theme parks…man, come to think of it, it’s like children were invisible!

Now, I am certain that parents still loved their children as parents love their children today, usually more than they love their own lives. But that doesn’t mean they would have looked to them as an example. So, Jesus is contrasting in a way that would be a scandal to everyone, that those children are to be welcomed as Jesus himself is welcomed. While it may have taken 2,000 years to spoil our children as much as we did, there can be no doubt that this moment of Jesus’ ministry forever changed the way Christians related to their children. Just another example of how a decidedly Christian teaching influenced our culture in ways that we now just assume.

And indeed, the notion of service itself is so assumed that we likely forget where it comes from. Even our politicians, who, when they are not stabbing each other in the back, saying whatever they have to say to get elected, or backtracking on previous promises, at least still have to pretend to be servant leaders. They may be the most ambitious cad on earth, but they still have to play a humble servant on TV. I don’t remember Genghis Kahn giving that illusion. Or the leaders of Communities Parties. Or Hitler. They were strong men who knew better, and you had better not question them.

But as long as the person and teachings of Jesus still hang around in the ether, the explicit teaching of servant leadership is hard to ignore. The shame of those two disciples has reverberated through the centuries, ensuring that no true Christian can, or should, claim superiority. No true Christian should seek to be thought of as great.

So, to recap: the disciples argument is embarrassing, but really not particularly out of the norm. Jesus’ choosing a child to set them right was a real teaching moment, for it was completely shattering to the social structure for Jesus to say that children should be considered great. So the virtue of the day is humility.

And yet, we should aspire to greatness, no? While ambition can be a sin, we should seek to do our best, right? Vanity can be a sin, but we shouldn’t hide our light under a bushel, right? Thinking of ourselves as great is wrong, but hey, if we have even one talent, we shouldn’t bury in the sand, right?

Yes, that is the delicate balance we walk as Christians. And the key to unlock that door is calling and vocation. Yes, we should be servant leaders in all we do, but we should lead. In any vocation, do not be afraid to lead! In your household, at the workplace, in your community, at your children’s school, when you advocate for the healthcare of a loved one, etc. etc. Lead! Do not substitute humility for rejection of God’s call on your life. For the world needs Christians, as much as ever, to lead. Hopefully, we lead differently. But that doesn’t mean we don’t lead at all.

And Jesus doesn’t just tell us all what to do. He leads as the greatest servant leader of all. He says how he will just before this lesson. Hear again: “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.” That is service. And it is leadership. And it is for you. And because Jesus has done this for us, we can do it for others. Listen for the call of leadership in your own life and pursue it. It is good to lead! Just don’t get distracted with vain vision of greatness. That would just be embarrassing. Amen.

—

First Lutheran, Houston

Pastor Evan McClanahan