There's Great and Then There's Impressive

There’s Great and Then There’s Impressive Mark 9:30-37 There is an African proverb that says that when two elephants fight, it is the grass that suffers. Likewise, when people start climbing over each other to be more important, not only is someone going to get hurt, but the very foundation of our faith suffers. True greatness results not from how far we rise above others but in how far we are willing to go to include and care for the least and the lowly in Christ’s name. So often we think that size matters, largest intimidates, Goliath scares folks. Heavens, I have been known to scare some people for being rather big. Imagine that, little ole, huggable me. However, back in the 1300s, the soldier known as the Black Prince was a giant on English battlefields. But when he got off his horse, he was a shrimp. Likewise, with King Henry V, who led English forces some 50 years later. He cast a long shadow as a soldier on the battlefield, but not so long when merely a man standing in the sun; he was a little guy too. Size really doesn’t matter. What does matter is how tall or great is your hospitality, your generosity, how great is your bigheartedness. How great is your stature? I did a funeral for a guy by the name of Joe Tinklepaugh. He was a good friend, a handyman, loved the forest and field, helped out with the Boy Scouts, helped out with our choir, just a nice guy to hang out with. His wife was an executive assistant for a law firm. Joe died suddenly from a heart attack, and that took us all by surprise. When I did his funeral, I eulogized him by asking a few questions: was Joe a great person and how do we measure that? Was Joe an academic with lots of degrees, had he published any books? No. Was Joe a rich man with lots of money and power? No. Was he connected to any political parties or figures or held any offices? No. And the list could go on and on with questions of what we think may make one important, but Joe probably wouldn’t measure up, that way. However, I said at the funeral, I peeked at the guest book of those who had come to pay their respects and counted the pages and the names per page and did the math and found that nearly 500 people had come to visit the family of this simple, unassuming, humble and helpful man, enough to more than fill this church over four or five times. Now that is having stature. Whether or not someone is tall, large, strong, rich, beautiful, handsome, socially important, in business or politically connected, 2 today we are concerned with other matters of stature. Jesus confronted His disciples about their argument over who among them was the greatest. He made a statement and then gave an example. The statement was, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” And for the example, Jesus called over a child who lived in that house, took the child in His arms, and said, “Whoever welcomes one such child in My name welcomes me.” In other words, Jesus was saying, “You think I am important – I think this child is important.” We probably don’t have too much trouble understanding the statement, but without knowing something of those times, we may miss altogether the point of the example. In that culture, children were essentially non-persons. They were left with the women, who themselves were considered subservient to the men and little more than property, but children were even further down the social ladder. Only slaves were lower in social standing than children. As if to reinforce the insignificance of children, Mark doesn’t even identify the gender of the child. The Greek word he uses is like the English word “child” and is translated in the neuter pronoun. So, in effect, the passage says that Jesus “took a little child and put it among them.” You can’t get much more impersonal than “it.” To say that the followers of Jesus could welcome Him by welcoming a child was a mind-blowing suggestion. This is one of those moments when Jesus was being radical and revolutionary in His thinking. Other times were when He spoke of women, but that is another sermon. Jesus wanted them to understand how God viewed greatness. It came not from being high on society’s status ladder, but by welcoming those on the bottom rungs or those who don’t have a place on the ladder at all. “Greatness” is a word based on measurement. The Greek word translated “greatest” really means “more.” In our usual way of thinking, a person can be designated great only if he or she excels in some way beyond others, is more than others. For us to be called great would mean that there are others who do not measure up to our status or achievement and who are therefore less than we are. Jesus was not taking issue with the idea of measurement to determine greatness; he was simply saying that the disciples were measuring with the wrong scales, in the wrong calibration. True greatness is not from how far we rise above others in status or fame or achievement, but in how far we are willing to go by including and caring for the least and the lowly in His name. 3 Far from calling for a leveling of humankind, Jesus was urging His followers to stand tall in their recognition of every person — even the most decrepit among us — as someone for whom He came. In welcoming such a one, they, and we, welcome Jesus; and in welcoming Jesus, we welcome God. Jesus ties the word “greatness” to the word “welcome.” Welcoming is an aspect of hospitality, the cordial and generous reception of others as guests. It’s one thing to try to help others from a distance, to give them our leftovers or hand-me-downs. But it is quite another to give them the kinds of things we enjoy. A 10-year-old boy came home one day from school saying that his class was collecting canned goods to give to the needy, and he wanted to know if he could take some cans from the family’s pantry. His mother told him to help himself, so he started setting out cans of beets, succotash and spinach, and even a can of hominy someone had given the family (what is hominy?) — all the things he didn’t care for himself. When his mother went over and added SpaghettiOs to the pile, however, he objected. He liked SpaghettiOs and didn’t want to part with those. His mother patiently explained to him something about what it means to be hospitable, that it is accepting that the needs of others are as important as our own needs and offering others what we ourselves value. Physical size does not determine the kind of person the individual was, and the people of biblical times knew that as well as we do today. Still, just as our society tends to be preferential toward strong, successful and beautiful people, so biblical people sometimes equated physical stature with an elevated status. Even the great prophet-priest Samuel once had to be reminded to look deeper. When God sent Samuel to Bethlehem to anoint a new king from the household of Jesse, Samuel took one look at Jesse’s eldest son Eliab, who apparently was tall and striking, and thought, “He must be the one!” But not so, for God told Samuel to pass over Eliab, and said, “Do not look on his appearance or on the height of his stature, because I have rejected him; for the Lord does not see as mortals see; they look on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart” (1 Samuel 16:7). John Westerhof, a Christian educator, says that in our faith development we may go through various styles of faith before we call a faith our own. He names four styles of faith: one is “experienced faith,” in which faith is not so much a theological affirmation as it is a sentimental experience. It’s not like we know a whole lot 4 but rather we feel our faith with experiences of trust, love and acceptance that encourage us to respond to and explore the Christian faith. It’s a child-like faith. A second style of faith is an “associate faith,” a faith expressed through association with a faith community. It may be more a social contact kind of faith than a heart-rendering faith in God. A third style of faith is “searching faith,” in which one feels a need to test one’s faith tradition. It is a kick-the-tires kind of faith; and unfortunately, many Christians don’t like their tires kicked. Some are threatened by a critical, or quizzical attitude, and don’t want to pursue any other way of thinking, which might broaden their understanding. The last style of faith is that of “owned faith,” the result of Christian maturity, when we are willing and able to stand up for what we believe. What greatness is there in your faith? What more is there that you can learn, share, witness, receive and give? I really don’t know of anyone here who is seeking to be more important than another, but that really isn’t the point for today. Jesus took a child to show greatness. He took the least and made them an example of who He felt was as important as anyone else. What can Jesus do with us, with you? What example can we be, for Christ’s sake? The question is asked, what is a human being? Hear what a number of our renowned philosophers have said. “A prisoner,” answered Plato; “A reasoning animal,” replied the first-century thinker, Seneca; “Stark mad,” countered Michel Montaigne, 16th-century French essayist; “A noble animal,” replied Sir Thomas Browne, 17th-century English physician and essayist; “Born free,” replied Rousseau, 18th-century French philosopher; “A beast,” replied Thomas Percy, English poet and bishop (these folks didn’t have a very high opinion of the human race now, did they); “Great and strong and wise,” (1885-1977) Louis Untermeyer, American poet; “Master of his fate,” added Alfred Lord Tennyson (1809-1892); “Small potatoes,” Rudyard Kipling (1865-1936). Question: Do you know what God thinks of us? You and I are “a little less than divine” (second only to God Himself) says the Psalmist (8). Now that is greatness, that is impressive, and were one to accept that, it would have to be with utter humility, with a life-giving gratitude, with joy and thanksgiving, with responsibility and with caring, welcome and hospitality for whoever Jesus would care for, and Jesus cares for everybody.