& Be Great

Greatness Personified

9.22.24 [Mark 9:30-37] River of Life (18th Sunday after Pentecost)

It’s happened to all of us at some point. You had a thought—some snide remark, complaint, or sarcastic comment—you couldn’t or wouldn’t keep bottled in. So you muttered it under your breath or you whispered it to a commiserating companion. But it wasn’t half as quietly as you thought. In fact, what you thought you said under your breath was so loud that the absolute last person you wanted to hear it did.

And then they asked a haunting & harrowing question: What did you just say? You were caught red handed and now were red faced.

What you experienced that moment was unforgettable. To this day, you may have no memory of what you said or why, but you can recall exactly how you felt that moment, can’t you? Your face was flush and your mind was flustered. You were embarrassed. Ashamed. Exposed. Mortified. And then they had the gall to ask the question again: What did you just say?

If you ever did compose yourself enough to respond, more than likely you mumbled a ridiculous lie. Nothing. But they knew. They may not have known exactly what you said, but they caught the gist of it. They knew why you didn’t want to repeat it. Everyone did.

If you can remember that experience—those feelings—then you can relate to the disciples in today’s Gospel reading.

Mark sets the scene for us. Jesus was passing through Galilee with his disciples behind him. Mark tells us that (Mk. 9:30) Jesus did not want anyone to know where they were. During this time in his public ministry, Jesus was doing his very best to maintain a low profile. He was no longer teaching large crowds of Israelites by the shore of the sea of Galilee. He was no longer healing multitudes. He did not want people to recognize him because he was investing his energy in his twelve disciples. He was preparing them for his suffering, his death, and his resurrection. Jesus wanted them to be ready for it.

So he told them for a second time that (Mk. 9:31) the Son of Man is going to be delivered into the hands of men. They will kill him and after three days he will rise. Mark tells us they still didn’t get it. They understood the first part—being handed over and put to death—but the last part must have left them flummoxed. As they rolled this over in their own minds, they must have remembered what happened the last time Jesus spoke this way, a week or so earlier.

The first time Jesus spoke of his suffering, death, and rising, Peter piped up and said (Mt. 16:22) Never, Lord! This shall never happen to you. Jesus rebuked him harshly, saying (Mk. 8:31) Get behind me, Satan! You don’t have in mind the concerns of God, but merely human concerns. That is likely why they were afraid to ask him about what he meant.

But their fear in following up with Jesus did not stifle all the chit-chat. While they were walking behind Jesus, they were trying to establish the pecking order. Who among the disciples was the greatest?

I suppose a person might just say that this is what guys do when they have nothing else better to talk about. But maybe there’s a reason for this topic dominating the discussion on the road to Capernaum.

Jesus had just taken three of his disciples—Peter, James, & John—up a high mountain and was transfigured before them. As they came down the mountain, he (Mk. 9:9) gave them orders not to tell anyone what they had seen until the Son of Man had risen from the dead. Peter, James, and John kept the matter to themselves, discussing what rising from the dead meant.

When they got down the mountain and rejoined the other nine, they ran into trouble. Jesus’ disciples had been unable to cast a powerful demon out of a young boy and now they were arguing with the teachers of the law about it. After a short discussion with the boy’s father, Jesus commanded the evil spirit to leave forever.

So within a few weeks, Peter has been called Satan. Nine disciples couldn’t cast out a single demon. And three disciples went up a mountain and are having side conversations about what they heard and saw. It’s not hard to figure out how insecurity, envy, and jealousy fan into flames an embarrassing argument about who’s the greatest.

We all struggle with this, don’t we? From little on, we’ve competed with our peers to figure out where we fit. Who’s the strongest, the fastest, the smartest, the funniest? Who’s the best?

We may think we have left behind those childish ways—but have we? If you have left all that behind, why do you get so bent out of shape when someone tells an embarrassing story about you? Why do you get so mad when someone slights you or forgets about you? Why do you get so frustrated when people don’t take your advice or listen to you at all? Why are you so reluctant to ask for help? To concede that you don’t know something? To admit that you were wrong?

Each of us struggles to put to death our sinful pride. It’s not child’s play. It is a battle that we will all fight until we take our last breath.

We desperately want to know that our lives mean something. We want to be and feel significant. Prideful people point to their resume, their life’s work, their abilities, accomplishments, and associates to prove that they are significant. Look at all I’ve done and made. Look at all the people I know and all the people who know me. Look at me!

God has looked at us. He knows what we have done and why. And he does not see greatness. He is not impressed with any of us. All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. In fact, more often than not, we’re aiming the wrong direction. We’re shooting for success. We’re aiming for achievement. God’s glory is found in humble service.

Humble service is greatness personified. That’s what Jesus wanted his disciples to understand. That’s what he was talking about as he was teaching them. That’s what they didn’t get. They understood he was talking about his suffering and death. They didn’t understand why it was necessary.

Jesus wasn’t saying that he was going to be delivered into the hands of men because he had a sneaking suspicion that Pharisees were conspiring with the Herodians and would eventually get him. Jesus said that he was going to suffer, die, and rise from the dead because this was the exact reason why he came. He came to give his life as a sacrifice of atonement. He came to be our servant & Savior. He came to humble himself, by becoming obedient to death, even the shameful death of the cross. The King of kings made himself the very last for us.

In order to illustrate this to his disciples in a way that they could grasp, Jesus took a little child in his arms. Now we must understand that little children like this were viewed very differently in Jesus’ day than in ours. In our day, little children are cute and cuddly and treasured. In Jesus’ day, they were considered something far less than significant. They were entirely dependent upon you to do everything for them and many of them wouldn’t even make it to adulthood. Children were thought of as not having yet arrived. They were small and powerless. They were hungry and thirsty and lonely and needy and had little to offer. Children had few, if any abilities that were useful to grown men like these disciples. They had not accomplished anything and they had no impressive associates. They were little buckets of need.

But look at how Jesus embraced this little child. It was the same way he embraced his disciples. And us.

Fishermen and tax collectors and political zealots had nothing that Jesus needed from them. He didn’t need their muscle or their money. He didn’t need their advice or their abilities. He didn’t need them or anything they could do for him.

But he loved them. Just as he loves us. The love of God is expressed in the mercy he shows sinners and the grace he gives to those who have nothing to give in return. Remember, John 3:16 tells us that God so loved the world, not the cross. Jesus did not love the cross. He loved the world. And because he loved the world he embraced the shame, the pain, the awfulness of the cross. He did this because he loved sinners like you and me.

Jesus didn’t die for your sins because he saw something special in some future version of you, either. You were not a shrewd spiritual investment or even a lottery ticket for your Lord. He simply loved you because he is love and you needed him to love you. You were hungry so he gave you the Bread of Life. You were thirsty so he brought you living water. You were wallowing in your guilt and shame and all alone and he embraced you. You were sinful so he washed you clean. You were in need and the God of all wisdom and power met those needs in the person and work of Jesus Christ. His humble service is greatness personified.

He is not only the sacrifice of atonement for your sins, dear believer, but also for the sins of the whole world. He suffered for those whom he knew would only spurn him. He died for those he knew would despise him until their dying breath. He gave himself up for the sins of all, even those who squandered his free gift of salvation. He is the servant of all. And he calls you to follow him. To live in a significant way.

He calls you to patiently serve your friends and family by being God’s light in their lives. To serve them and help meet their material needs but also to do the things no one else is close enough to do for them. To correct and encourage, to rebuke and restore them gently.

Jesus is calling you to the great work of serving your fellow believers. As we gather together for worship and study, as we bring our prayers to the Most High God, we are welcoming children of God in Christ’s name. Each time we do that we are welcoming Jesus. We are seeing and expressing that God has called them & us his precious children.

Jesus calls you to be the servant of all. To humbly help and converse with and also pray for everyone—especially those you don’t like so much, and those you don’t agree with. That’s greatness personified because that’s what Jesus did for us and for the whole world. Amen.