Who Asked You?

Mark 9:33 – 37

September 23, 2012

Here we are again.  In front of what I think is a tough text.  You were warned.  And if you missed church last week, well now you’ll know better than to miss church.    

Last week, we heard Jesus tell his disciples for the first time that he was not a Messiah headed for the throne – he was a Messiah headed to suffering and death.  The disciples did not respond positively.  Cross words were exchanged between Jesus and his friends.  Then, when it was all over, the disciples pretty much went on as if he never said it.  I can almost hear Peter say, “It’s okay…Jesus has gone round the bend.  But we’ve got time to bring him back.  Meanwhile, we have to stay focused on the end goal.”

But then, in our passage this morning, Jesus says it again.  He talks of death; not kingship.  But again, the author of Mark tells us, the disciples didn’t understand… and this time they didn’t ask for clarification.  They went right on ahead, as if nothing had changed.  After Jesus talked of death, they were having an argument about who was the greatest.

Now, trusting, as I do, that the disciples were not horrible people, I think their question makes sense given where they thought they were going – where they thought Jesus was going.  Jesus was still, for them, the Messiah that would reign as king of the Jews; literally.  He would be king in place of the current king.

They were about to be in power – and they believed that when they had the power, they would do good…everyone would prosper.  I think it’s only natural under these circumstances to start planning how to best organize that new kingdom.  The disciples wanted to make sure that they had the best team in place for when they took over the reins.  So they had to figure out who would be chief of staff – which one of them was the greatest.

At the same time, they are probably not completely dense.  They know Jesus isn’t exactly on board right now.  They know he’s still off on his weird thing – talking about how he is going to suffer and die.  So, when Jesus asks them what they were arguing about, they don’t invite him in to the conversation.  And frankly, I think it wasn’t so much that they were embarrassed about what they were talking about:  I think they didn’t want to know his answer…he hadn’t exactly been helpful in these conversations lately.

Problem is, Jesus answered the question anyway.  Who’s the greatest?  Let me tell you what I think. 

Jesus says greatness is not about being powerful – it’s certainly not about being the political king.  The way to greatness involves rejecting power altogether, and choosing a life of serving everyone.  In the disciples’ worldview, the greatest one is the king, and that one is “served” by all those under him.  In fact, the whole stability of the society depended on it.  As soon as people decided they didn’t have to be loyal to and serve the king, everything fell apart.  This is why kings were so quick to dispatch of dissidents. 

The disciples know this system – and they don’t really want to change it.  I suspect they can’t imagine anything else.  They just want to change who is on top.  They think everyone will be better off if they are serving Jesus as king.  But Jesus says, he will not be served by people; this Messiah will serve all.  To them, this sounded like anarchy – chaos – and certainly not like the way to having their glorious nation of Israel back.

It seems like, for Jesus, the system of having the weak serve the powerful is the problem.  No matter who’s on top, if that person is given all the power over others, it’s never going to work for the people on the bottom.  A top down system will always benefit people at the top first and the people at the bottom last.  So, Jesus says that he is going to work from the bottom up.  Children, widows, slaves, the poor, the imprisoned, the oppressed – they are his first constituents. And they don’t have to serve me – I will serve them.  It’s why he calls himself “Son of humanity”…servant of humanity…not Messiah.

The disciples are asking who’s the greatest – and Jesus says it’s the person that rejects power, serves everyone, and oh, by the way, ultimately is killed by the king.  I can imagine more than one of them whispering under their breath – well who asked you?

A number of years ago, right after an election that I was particularly devastated by – I won’t say which one J.  I worked like crazy on the campaign, and we lost.  And I was bummed to say the least.  At about that same time, I happened to read a book by William Cavanaugh.  He was a professor at a Jesuit university, and wrote a book called Theopolitical Imagination – not a best seller, as you might imagine.  Reading it, I found the arguments he made about what it means to be a Christian in this political system we live in very compelling – and the implications of those arguments thoroughly disconcerting.    

He argued that only the table – the communion table – can be the center of our politics.  Only the communion table can be the center of power…because the communion table is where we are both served by Christ, who gave up power, and where we commit to serve others by doing the same.  In the bible, we see that for Jesus the table is where the least of the least have the most honor and are given the best seats.  The table rejects power by celebrating a broken body as the way to salvation.

I was vaguely aware as I was reading it that one of the possible implications, though he never said it directly, was that there is no Christian way to be engaged with our current political system – which has at its center power and authority.  But, I pretended I wasn’t aware of this.  I decided I could like his book without having to own up to its conclusions.

Then I met William Cavanaugh at a conference.  I had a chance to ask him questions about his book, but I distinctly remember not really wanting to ask – because I was afraid of the answer.  Problem was, he answered anyway. 

In a lecture he gave that weekend, he talked about how lost we are as Christians when it comes to serving the poor.  At one point he said this is primarily because, “We look to the government for our salvation, not to Jesus.”  It’s a line that has haunted me.  I do look to the government.  I believe that if I use my faith to inform my politics, I can help make things better for the poor through the government.  He was saying this is a fool’s errand, destined to fail, and in saying this, he was challenging one of my core beliefs. 

“Who asked you,” I muttered under my breath.

Jesus’ way is not just hard, it doesn’t make sense.  It didn’t to the disciples, and it doesn’t to me.  It’s not that I don’t believe in serving others.  That I get.  It’s rejecting the chance to have a huge impact by being the one in charge of the whole system.  The disciples wanted him to rule over Israel, and instead he was going to have dinner with sinners.  That doesn’t get you anywhere.  More to the point, that doesn’t get the country anywhere.  Jesus had a chance to truly make a difference – a huge difference.  Instead, he roamed the rural countryside, spent time with the poor masses, got himself killed, and left the oppressive Roman government firmly intact.  What kind of Messiah is that? 

The disciples are walking with Jesus on the way to Jerusalem.  Once they get there, Jesus will take one road, and they will take another.  They will still be headed to the throne.  Jesus heads to the cross; and he does so alone. And the question comes to us:  Will we take the road where greatness is tied to power and authority, or the one where greatness ends up tied to a cross?

As the elections approach, I, like the disciples, think it matters who is on top.  If we’re giving power and authority to people, I want to help decide who those people will be.  And looking out, I suspect the same is true for many of you.  And I want to do this not just because I want to make sure they make my life better.  I think my faith informs me in this process.  I want to choose people I think will make things better for everyone – especially those who are hurting and suffering most. 

So, I participate in the system.  I spend time arguing with people about who is the greatest; about who should be seated in the big seats.  And I ignore that pesky voice in my head that says, once someone is in the big seat is forced by our system to be less concerned for the ones in the little seats…they are concerned first with the ones who got them the seat in the first place.  It’s big seats that are the problem; and the bigger the seat, the bigger the problem.

Given our context is so different from that of Jesus and his disciples, I’m not entirely sure I know what the implications of this are for us.  Our government, at least ostensibly serves the people, not the other way around, and we know there are good people in the government – and very good people right around us running for election.  I don’t think anyone can convince me that I shouldn’t work to get them elected.  But the one similarity I see is that serving the least, the most insignificant, the most despised – as Jesus did – is definitely not at the center of our system. Even if it’s in the hearts of our leaders.  Because in the system, the worth of people is determined not by being a child of God, but by being someone who makes money, contributes to the economy, and doesn’t “mooch” off the system.

I, like most people, was offended by governor Romney’s talk of the 47% who will never take responsibility for themselves.  But I was equally disturbed when I listened carefully to the main criticism of what he said:  people went out of their way to point out that most of those 47% were “good” people:  they were veterans, the elderly, the hard working, and they paid taxes of some kind; as if his comments would have been totally justified if all 47% were on welfare.  Worth in our system is determined by how much you work, how much you make, and how much you serve the economy – an economy dependent on some being at the top and others being at the bottom.

All of that said, there are degrees of suffering, and I do think it matters who our leaders are.  Some will make things better and some make things worse.  We might disagree about who will fall into which group, but if we believe it, we can’t stay out of the process.  Plus, I think there is a difference between voting in order to preserve your way of life, verses voting to serve the lives of those who suffer most.  And if more people did this, it would start to subvert the system itself.

People are suffering, the poor are not adequately cared for, etc.  And we are in the system.  It is simply where we are…it doesn’t make us bad people.  And, as people, and our bible for that matter, are fond of saying, God can use anything for the good.  In the Hebrew bible God used imperfect kings all the time for divine purposes. 

So, I do believe we have to figure out how to best affect the system from inside…who we vote for does matter.  The character of the people who run for office – who accept the reins of power – does matter – even if that character will always have flaws.  I would feel callous and irresponsible if I thought otherwise.  When we do choose, however, we can pay attention to who we are serving with our vote, our support, our money, etc.

This passage is hard for me, because it makes me slightly less sure of all that.  Which makes me think that, although we should have conviction, we should also have a healthy dose of humility.  We should be skeptical, to say the least, of both power and those who seek power.  With apologies to all the truly wonderful people I know seeking office, and all who work hard to elect them; no matter who we support, no matter who we vote for, no matter who is running for office:  if we’re part of this system at all, we’re probably not Jesus.  Our government will not ultimately be the source of our salvation, if salvation means a world where no one is better than another, everyone is served equally, and everyone is invited to the table. 

Jesus says we should welcoming people into our lives, as he welcomed the child into his arms.  Children at that time were seen a bit differently than they are now.  They were seen as leeches on the system until they were able to work and support the household.  The equivalent today are those we think take but don’t give back.  Instead of trying to avoid even the appearance of supporting people seen this way, we should serve them – welcome them with open arms  -and they should be first in line.  This probably won’t bring down the government.  But, for whatever it’s worth, it might be following Jesus.  Amen.