Who is greatest? (2)

Introduction/Scripture

We are continuing our series on Questions this week.

I appreciate you coming along with me on this 8-week journey!

To reward you, I’ll do a short scripture this week!

The New Revised Standard Version True Greatness

18 At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, “Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” 2 He called a child, whom he put among them, 3 and said, “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. 4 Whoever becomes humble like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. 5 Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.

I am the King of Childish.

Our youth group used to go to the Alive Music Festival each summer.

Think of it as a Christian Woodstock.

One night as we were sitting around the fire, one of our boys in the group told us that while he was easily the biggest, most intimidating boy in our group, he was afraid of Bigfoot.

A good, wise youth pastor would have responded to such a confession with compassion and understanding, maybe even a little bit of pastoral care.

I on the other hand...

My brain immediately leapt to two facts:

A volunteer was driving up that evening to join us at the camp.

We had just recently purchased a Bigfoot costume for a skit we were doing...

That night, an unnamed individual dressed in the bigfoot costume, and hid in the young boy’s sleeping bag at the end of the night, waiting for him to climb in to bed.

I wish I could hear the other campers around us reacting to the sound of a 6’3 teenager running through the woods of Ohio screaming that Bigfoot was out to get him.

Scripture Dive- An honest question

Childish Disciples

This story actually appears in three of the four Gospels, and in the other accounts, this story is proceeded by a fight.

The disciples are trying to establish a pecking order amongst themselves.

Which, while not quite like scaring a kid with a Bigfoot costume, is essentially about as childish as you can get.

Which makes sense when you know this rather interesting fact about the disciples:

In every picture, painting, and b-level movie about Jesus, the disciples are all bearded guys in their 30s and 40s.

If you closely study the call stories, the historical data, and some context clues, it becomes pretty clear that these disciples are young people.

Really young in fact! Peter was likely the oldest, and probably topped out at about 18-19.

Incidentally, when Jesus sets out to change the world, and can choose anyone in the world to ride shotgun with him, he chooses teenagers to carry out the mission.

Shouldn’t we do the same?

But given that they are this young, it should be no surprise that they have some pretty childish tendencies.

They are constantly in the Gospels speaking without giving their words a whole lot of thought.

They are extremely quick to try something, brimming with over-confidence, only to stumble and fail.

There are countless instances of the disciples getting in to arguments, either with each other or the people that have come to Jesus looking for healing.

And there are more than a few places, like this one, where they are trying to sort out who the greatest is.

What do we mean by greatness?

Speaking of childish activities, one of the things my friends and I do is engage in rather pointless and silly debates:

Is a hotdog a sandwich?

Is cereal a soup?

Can we rightly consider a bowl of popcorn as a serving of vegetables?

My friend Ed always stops these conversations before they start, and demands that we define the terms before we decide what is what.

Before we determine a hotdog’s status, define for me what you mean by sandwich.

That’s funny for a silly conversation around the youth group, but it works in life so much more than that.

How would you define Christian greatness?

Is it the person who has climbed the ladder of success, who has the biggest mega church, who has the ear of people in power?

Would it be the person who has done the most mission work? Surely Mother Teresa is on the list of greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven, right?

Would it be the person who can most influence change in their listeners? The best preacher, the most effective Sunday school teachers?

And if there exists a “greatest,” surely there’s some sort of hierarchy, right?

One cartoon I saw showed the break room of some company, and two coffee mugs side by side.

One said “World’s #1 boss!” and the other said “World’s 1,491,689th Employee!”

If there’s a number one, whether or not it’s us, surely we rank somewhere on that scale.

And if I know where I rank on that scale, I could probably figure out where you rank on that scale.

The disciple’s question assumes all of this is true.

There is someone, somewhere, who is the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven (interesting that none of them assume it’s Jesus in this question…)

If someone is the greatest, it means there is some kind of list, and we’re on it.

And that means we must be ahead of at least a few other people.

So their question essentially is “Hey Jesus, rank us!”

A Living Sermon Illustration

Instead of answering their question, Jesus gently redirects it.

He called a child, who he sets in the middle of the group.

We need to understand something about children in Jesus’ day.

Whereas we celebrate children;

Sign of life

Sign of vitality

Sign of youth

Sign of joy and happiness

Sign of a growing church!

Children were very much looked down upon when they were looked at at all in Jesus day.

There is a reason we don’t have any stories after the Christmas narrative and before Jesus is 12 years old in the temple.

Children were a burden on their family.

In a society where you are constantly working to support your family, your children can’t really bring anything to the table, and so they wind up just getting in the way.

So Jesus essentially puts something in front of these disciples that is around them all the time, but they’ve never really looked at.

In two sentences, Jesus dismantles much of what the disciples were asking about.

Greatness in the Kingdom of Heaven is a childlike humility.

In fact, to even enter the Kingdom is dependent on our ability to become like this kid.

And then at the end, Jesus throws in a plot twist.

Let’s explore each of these in turn:

A definition of greatness: Humility

Finally, a straight answer.

Jesus comes right out and says it:

Whoever becomes humble like this child is the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven.

Greatness is humility.

But he goes even further than that:

Humility defined.

Humility is not shame.

Humility is a word that we often get confused in our culture.

I know this is hard to believe because I disguise it so well with the way I dress and the action figures in my office, but I’m quite a bit of a nerd!

And any nerd knows all too well that in middle school and high school there’s a bit of bullying factored in to the cost of business.

I learned somewhere in life that other people were going to make fun of me, unless I beat them to the punch!

So I developed this self deprecating sense of humor that can sometimes stand in as humility.

But that’s really not humility. It’s a funny way to approach shame.

C.S. Lewis said it best: Humility is not thinking less of yourself, it’s thinking of yourself less.

Humility is not a refusal to accept praise.

Every now and again I come across a preacher who does really good work, and when I tell them so they’ll say something like “Oh, it’s just God working through me.”

And part of me wants to say Amen to that, that God does indeed work through us, that God does indeed give us to the words to speak,

But part of me also wants this person to accept the praise they’re being offered!

God does indeed work through us, but that work is contingent upon us showing up!

Humility is childlike dependence on God

Jesus says there is a very specific kind of humility that he’s working on here, and it’s the humility this child has.

This child earns nothing.

My kids at home are constantly eating, sleeping, and being sheltered in my house.

Yet they’ve never once shopped for their own groceries, paid the mortgage, or had the decency to go to work and earn a paycheck.

And that’s because they can’t!

Part of the essence of childhood is that parents will look after the needs of their children, so that their children can grown and learn and become the people they’re meant to be.

You and I cannot earn God’s love!

I can’t believe how many Christians believe, or at least live like they believe, that God’s love is dependent on what they do.

God will love me more if I go on another mission trip.

God will love me more if I don’t use swear words as much.

God will not love me if I miss another week of Church.

God will not love me if I hang out with the wrong people.

I can’t believe how many Christians place themselves in a penalty box that God didn’t create and assume it was God who put them there.

Worse are the number of Christians who put other people in that same penalty box that God doesn’t want anything to do with.

Children cannot earn a good parent’s love because they already have it.

We cannot earn God’s love because we already have it.

This child carries wonder.

While I was writing this sermon, Sarah sent me a picture.

She and the boys went to the park and happened across a yellow caterpillar.

And the boys stopped to stare at it a little bit, because when you’re four years old the world is fascinating!

And they felt like I needed to be included.

So many of us have cut ourselves off from wonder.

As I have added a bit of a longer commute to my regular work day, this is happening to me more and more.

But have you ever driven somewhere, got where you were going, and have absolutely no memory of the drive?

How many wonderful signs have we missed?

What of God’s creation have we cut ourselves off from?

What did we not behold with a sense of wonder?

To me, a childlike sense of wonder is essential to Christian faith.

It’s why I pray each week that we will rejoice in all the wonders God has shown us!

This child is a counter weight to childish arguments.

When I was just out of college, something like 22 or 23 years old, I started at my first ministry job.

One week our senior pastor was on vacation, and some of my co-workers (themselves in their 60s) decided that this was a perfect time to bring all their grievances to the surface.

After about an hour long staff meeting trying to sort through their bickering, we ended the meeting in prayer and made our way to the door. I overheard the custodian whisper to himself “How embarrassing that the 22 year old was the most mature on in the room today.”

There is a colossal difference between childish behavior and childlike behavior, and Jesus sets it on display for all the disciples to see in this moment.

Childish behavior argues for me first, childlike behavior knows that we are covered.

Childish behavior assumes that there is not enough to go around, childlike behavior rests in the Provider’s love.

Childish behavior is interested in hierarchy and pecking order, childlike behavior is interested in wonder.

Jesus is inviting us to leave behind childish behavior, and pick up a genuinely childlike faith of humility and wonder.

Turn it around: Choosing Humility

Rock Star Theologians

One of my favorite theologians it turns out is a singer in a rock and roll band.

To paraphrase Jesus, even if these children kept quiet the rockstars would cry out to the father.

Jon Foreman is the lead singer of a band called Switchfoot.

During a tour that happened to be filmed for a documentary, Jon’s daughter fell ill and in need of surgery while he was half way around the would in Australia.

As he was packing up his things to leave for home, he said that when crisis hits, faith and despair are equally valid choices, though faith was better.

Think of it. If in the moment he had to cancel a bunch of shows, fly home, worry about his daughter the whole way, he had given in to dispair, would any of us have blamed him?

Of course not! That’s a valid response.

But so is faith.

Our choice today

I think this passage leads us to a similar set of choices.

In our culture, would anyone hold it against you if you chose arrogance based on greatness?

Would anyone hold it against you for striving to be the best at your job?

Would anyone speak ill of you if you worked your tail off to earn God’s favor?

Would anyone be bothered by aspirations to greatness?

Absolutely not! It’s a valid choice.

It’s just that there’s a better choice.

Do you believe that it is better to choose childlike humility over and against childish heirarchy?

Do you believe that it is better to allow God to provide for you as the child you are than it is to run yourself in to the ground to earn the love you already have?

Do you believe that the methods and rhythms of the Kingdom of God are better than the methods and rhythms of the world?

It is in fact a choice

In verse 3 Jesus makes it clear that this is indeed a choice.

The word change is strepho, which is often used as a word to describe turning around like a boat.

It would seem that no matter how long you’ve been walking in the direction of worldly heriarchy, you can turn things around and become childlike.

In fact, it seems that this choice is a requirement for entrance to the Kingdom of Heaven.

I would argue this is a daily choice.

The Kingdom of God (as we pray each week) is available to us in the here and now.

The disciple’s question is in the present tense. Not who will be the greatest in the Kingdom of God, but who is right here and now?

Every day we have an opportunity to choose to be like a child.

Every day we have an opportunity to allow God to provide for us, instead of trying to provide for ourselves.

Every day we have an opportunity to cling to childlike humility.

Every day, maybe even every single second, we have an opportunity for wonder and amazement at the world God has provided for us.

Who do we welcome here?

As I mentioned, this passage has a bit of a twist at the end of it.

Until now, if we ended just a second ago, this sermon is all about personal growth.

And that would be a fine sermon, which I’d be happy to end there and say “let’s take a collection!”

But Jesus ends with this line:

Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.

How interesting!

It turns out that becoming childlike is not a solo, individual endeavor.

It has a communal element to it.

We might have to ask ourselves what it means to welcome fellow child like disciples.

We might have to ask ourselves what it means to welcome Jesus, to open up our doors to him by way of others.

We might have to ask ourselves why he would include this in the end if it weren’t meant to challenge us, if it weren’t meant to come with some active participation on our part.

Yes, Presbyterians, we might have to ask ourselves about sharing our faith, welcoming in the outcasts, or as our least favorite word puts it, we might have to ask ourselves about evangelism.

But don’t worry. We’ll ask about that next week.

Three Challenges

I’d like to offer us three challenges to set us up for next week though:

Practice childlike humility by lifting someone up over you.

Practice childlike reliance on God by asking for what you really need this week.

Practice childlike wonder by sitting outside, and letting God’s creation capture you for a few moments.