It's All Who You Know

Sermon for Sunday, September 20, 2009
Scripture: Mark 9:30-37

On the way to Capernaum, the disciples of Jesus are having a rather interesting conversation. They are having a playful conversation about who among them is the greatest. We love this story – the disciples get caught arguing about their accomplishments by their teacher, and we point and laugh and say, “Oh, those silly disciples are at it again – what fools they are.” Because we know true followers of Jesus would never have an argument about who’s the greatest. And we know that we never fall into that trap.

I’m sure none of us are as silly as the disciples. We don’t have conversations at work about whether we’re the person that deserves the promotion. We don’t puff out our chests in pride claiming our nation to be “better” than all the others. And we’ve never argued which of one of us is the best karaoke singer, or who’s the tallest in the family, or even whether or not we’re a better ping pong player than our spouse. And surely, we don’t ever brag about how Pittsburgh is once again the “City of Champions.” No, Jesus would never catch us in arguments, playful or otherwise, about who is the greatest. Would he?

The disciples were not that much different from you and me. We make fun of Mark’s portrait of the disciples as bumbling idiots, as silly fools who are always saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. But placed in that same situation – going from simple, everyday fishermen to the inner circle of the Messiah – we too would probably think we’re on our way to greatness. The disciples had it made – they were climbing the corporate ladder, well on their way down the path to success, one step closer to greatness with every day they spent with Jesus. They had that natural human desire to achieve greatness, and figured it was sure to happen because they were close friends with Jesus Christ. Having such a close relationship with Jesus, a miracle worker and Son of god, definitely has created a self-righteous attitude of greatness buzzing around the disciples.

You see, the world back then was not much different than our world today. Back then, just as now, the perception is that being great is all about who you know. If you network with the right people, hang out with the right crowd, rub elbows with people who are already great, then certainly some of that greatness will extend to you by association. We may go about pursuing greatness in different ways, but we usually make sure that we know the people in power so that when the time comes, we may come into power as well. The disciples knew well that it is all about who you know, and they knew the most powerful, greatest human around. They knew the powerful Jesus Christ, the Messiah, and being around such a powerful person surely makes them powerful too.

But Jesus perceives their “power play.” He overhears their conversation about “who is the greatest,” and since Jesus never passes up a teaching moment, he pulls them aside and gives a lesson about true greatness.

“Whoever wants to be first,” Jesus says, “must be last of all and servant of all.” We’re more familiar with this “first shall be last” talk, since we see it in other places in scripture, but to the disciples, this is a new, foreign teaching. The first shall be last? What does that even mean? And again, the disciples just don’t understand. So Jesus takes a little child and holds it in his arms. He tells them, essentially, “If you really want to tap into God’s power and greatness, you’ve gotta make sure you’re hanging out with this child.”

Today, we read that verse in a very sentimental fashion. Aww, look at that, Jesus was good with kids. How cute. But don’t sentimentalize this passage. To the disciples, there is nothing adorable about Jesus spending time with a child. That’s for women to do. They spend time with the kids, while the men go out and try to improve their status in the world. The men cannot be bothered with women and children – association with them is not a worthwhile career move. Back then, children were not regarded in the same way they are now. Children were barely human – they had no status or power, so they weren’t really members of society and weren’t paid much attention to. Essentially, children were among that group of the least, little, last, and lost.

In this story, Jesus is not teaching the disciples how to be good Sunday School teachers or how to be good fathers. He’s not creating a “photo op” for the local papers. There will be no front page story with the headline, “Jesus takes time to visit local elementary school.” This is not the sentimental moment that we in modern times have built it up to be. This is a moment of Jesus caring for one who has no status or power to offer anyone. This is Jesus loving a little child for the sake of loving – not for his own gain at all. And for this reason – that he’s “wasting time” with someone who can’t help him be great and powerful – that Jesus truly becomes great and powerful.

French philosopher Charles de Montesquieu once said, “To become truly great, one has to stand with people, not above them.” And when I think of people that were truly great, I think of the people that stood with the powerless rather than above the powerless, just as Jesus welcomed a powerless child rather than dismissing it. I think of Martin Luther King, Jr., who had a lot of power and authority, but rather than using it for his own gain, he used it to gain the rights of others, and in doing so became truly great. I think of Mother Theresa, who could have spent her time hanging out with the big wigs at the Vatican, but instead devoted her life to the people – many of them children – who are literally living in the gutters of Calcutta, India. By hanging out with the least of these, she became truly great. And I think of Roberto Clemente, who was called “The Great One” not simply because of what he did on the field, but because of the great things he did off the field to help the poor, suffering, powerless people wherever he could. All three of these people, were they here this morning, would probably not want to hear me talking about their greatness. For they didn’t love people, they didn’t form relationships with people, in order to become great. They loved people because all people deserve love. All people, big or small, powerful or powerless, child or adult, deserve the love of Jesus Christ.

We look up to those who love the least in our world, because we know their love is genuine. We know that they love other people simply for the sake of loving, not for the sake of our own benefit. Jesus has nothing to gain by loving us, but does so anyway. And he wants us to return our love in the same way.

Imagine I come home one day with fresh flowers for my lovely wife, Lisa. I give them to her, and she smells them, and remarks at how pretty they are, and thanks me for being so thoughtful. Now I could respond in a number of ways. Here’s option #1: I could say, “Well honey, I love you, and I’m giving you these flowers because I want you to have them. They may not be quite as pretty as you are, but they’re a gift from me just because I love you.” That’s option #1. Pretty good, huh? Now, let’s look at option #2.

Option #2: She gets the flowers, she’s impressed with my thoughtfulness, and so I respond, “Well honey, I figured that I should probably get you flowers, and if I did, you might be willing to make dinner AND do the dishes tonight. So whaddya say? Let me know when dinner’s ready. After all, I did get you flowers!”

Now, which option do you think I should go with? Of course, it’s option 1. But sometimes, when it comes to our relationship with God or with others, we end up taking option 2. We go to church, we tithe faithfully, we try to help our neighbors, we donate to worthy charities, and we do so thinking that this will someday benefit us. We become preoccupied with being in relationship with others just to help ourselves. But what if someone did the same to us? What if others only looked at us in terms of how we could help them? Wouldn’t we feel used?

Jesus is feeling used by the disciples. He overhears their conversation, and perhaps he’s wondering if they’re just using him to get to God. Perhaps they just see him as a stepping stone on the way to the top, a rung on the ladder toward greatness. But in order to love him, Jesus says, we have to learn to love a child with nothing to offer. In order to be great, we have to spend time with the little people, literally and figuratively. In order to be in relationship with God, we have to love God and others genuinely, with no ulterior motives of greatness. The truly great people do not seek greatness. The truly great person is one willing to take a powerless child into his arms and care for it just because love is what we are called to do. The truly great person is one willing to love those who have zero social status, those who have no greatness of their own, but are still worthy of receiving the love of Jesus Christ. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.