Joel D. Kline
October 19, 2003
Highland Avenue Church of the Brethren
The Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost
Back in the 1960s and ‘70s Presbyterian pastor Charlie Shedd was noted for his writings related to family and parenting issues. Some of you may particularly remember two of his books, Letters to Karen and Letters to Philip, reflections about life and faith written to his own children. Charlie Shedd begins another one of his books this way:
“How to Raise Your Children”
This was the title of one of my finest efforts. Like all good speeches it had unity, order, movement. It electrified, edified, specified! It grabbed them quick and held them fast with humor, pathos, drama!
All over the Midwest I gave it. They paid me a handsome fee and were glad to get me. “This guy will wow you!” That’s what they said, and the people came. With high hopes, they came for “How to Raise Your Children.”
Then we had a child!
That sound you just heard was the great elocutionist falling flat on his face. My majestic speech had been totaled. Those brilliant ideas had such a droll sound at 2:00 a.m. with the baby in full cry!
In my defense I want you to know this—I kept on trying. I changed my title to “Some Suggestions to Parents,” and charged bravely on. Then we had two more children and I altered it again. This time it came out “Feeble Hints to Fellow Strugglers.”
Who among us does not have some area in which we would like to be viewed as an expert, or at least as one who has something significant to offer, something of value to bring to the community and world around us? I wonder if this kind of motivation did not stand behind the request of the two disciples, James and John, as they ask Jesus, “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory” (Mark 10:37). Position. Power. Status. Recognition. Personal acclaim. Who among us does not find ourselves pondering ways in which we might gain this kind of notoriety and rank?
What the early disciples want, it turns out, are top-level cabinet appointments in the kingdom Jesus is establishing. When God’s rule fully arrives, James and John want to sit as close to Jesus as they possibly can—not a bad request, in and of itself. But the Gospel writer makes it clear that the two brothers, even after living intimately with Jesus for some time, nevertheless little grasp what intimacy with Jesus is all about. As Barbara Brown Taylor reminds us,
They seem to believe that the new world will be set up just like the old world, only with new leadership in place. The bad guys at the head table will be removed, their chairs will be fumigated and God’s new crew will be seated, with Jesus in the number one position and the most loyal members of his campaign staff on either side of him. Once this change has been accomplished, then—finally! at last!—the good people will commence to redeem the world from top to bottom, beginning from the top. The ultimate trickle-down effect.“It doesn’t work that way,” Jesus tells them one more time. The new world is not remotely like the old one. It turns the old one upside down. The number ones are not the powerful ones having their pictures taken at the head of the table; they are the quiet ones slipping in and out among the guests, refilling wine glasses and laying down clean silverware for the next course. The great ones are not the dignitaries to the left and right of the ruler; they are the slaves who are stirring pots in the kitchen, testing the temperature of the soup so that it is neither too hot nor too cold for the honored guests. James and John want Jesus to hurry up and become king of the world, but Jesus has other things on his mind. Has everyone been served? Is all the food on the table? Does anyone need anything? “For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”
We have heard this teaching so many times it is all but lost on us. The end of the line is the best place to be. The lowliest job is the one to covet. Those who serve are luckier than those in power and lovers of God get less status, not more. It is incomprehensible in terms of the world we live in. Things simply do not work that way. The only way to make sense of it is to think of it as some sort of intermediate stage, like boot camp or parole. Do your time as a servant with no whining and win two good seats in the kingdom to come.
“It doesn’t work that way,” Jesus tells them one more time. Jesus is not pretending to be a servant until the time comes for him to whip off his disguise and climb onto his throne; he is a servant through and through … He is not in it for the reward. He is in it for the love of God, which promises him nothing but the opportunity to give himself away. The best seat he will get this side of the grave is a throne full of splinters, and when he is hung out on it to dry by the powers that be, it will not be James and John on either side of him but two unnamed bandits, one on his left and the other on his right.
Just as Jesus attempts again and again to convey to the first disciples that life in God’s realm requires a whole new way of thinking and acting, so in our own day and age, you and I need frequent reminders of this call to be servants, to love our neighbor as we love ourselves, to go the extra mile in relationships. We need frequent reminders that the call to embrace the compassionate spirit of Jesus takes us beyond ourselves and challenges us to seek God’s best for others, even those who disagree with us. In a culture that teaches us ever to look out for number one—for me and me alone—we need to hear, over and over again, the call to let go of self-centeredness and embrace Christ’s self-giving love.
In my growing-up years I repeatedly heard the message that faith demands action. It is a truth embedded in Church of the Brethren tradition—this conviction that faith dare not be compartmentalized and set apart from the rest of life. Instead, faith—if it is genuine—is to be lived out, day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute, in our daily encounters and relationships. Contemporary Christian musician Rich Mullins some years ago had a song entitled “Screen Door,” that highlights the biblical connection between faith and action. Included in the song are the words, “Faith without works is about as useless as a screen door on a submarine.” And when you think about it, you can’t get much more useless than that!
One of the New Testament passages I heard quoted most frequently in my growing-up years is found in Matthew 25, the parable of great judgment in which Jesus asserts of the faithful, “I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.” When questioned when the faithful did such deeds, Jesus answers, “Truly I tell you, just as did it to one of the least of these, my brothers and sisters, you did it to me” (Matthew 25:34-40).
Powerful words—words that prod us to live out our love for God in the context of serving those in need. But it was only later in my life that I began to sense that we do not live this life of servanthood on our own strength alone, that it requires taking the risk of faith, surrendering self and trusting God to grant us courage, wisdom, and the spiritual gifts we need to live as servants. Only later in life did I come to recognize that faith involves placing all that we have and all that we are—our skills and our dreams, our hurts and our fears, our resources and our energy, indeed, our very being—in the hands of a gracious God.
Is this not what Madeleine L’engle has in mind when asserting that “faith in God, who is eternally loving and constant even as our understanding grows and changes, not only makes life worth living, but gives us the courage to dare to disturb the universe when that is what God calls us to do?” Daring to disturb the universe—is this not what it means to reflect a new way of living? Perhaps you remember the time, recorded in the book of Acts, when the apostles enter the city of Thessalonica and are soon dragged before the city authorities. The opponents of the early apostles complain, “These people who have been turning the world upside down have come here” (Acts 17:6). Daring to disturb the universe—is this not what it means to choose an alternative path to that of clawing and elbowing our way to the top? Is it not what it means to be a church community that heeds Christ’s call to “deepen faith, proclaim peace, embrace community, welcome others, and serve our neighbor, in the compassionate spirit of Jesus?” Is this not what it means to adopt a God-centered life, a life in which we seek to become, as Jesus was, a person for others?
Henri Nouwen has a book entitled In the Name of Jesus, in which he reflects on the nature of leadership in the Christian community. One of our greatest temptations, asserts Nouwen, is to choose the way of power “as an easy substitute for the hard task of love.” It seems easier, writes Nouwen, “to be God than to love God, easier to control people than to love people, easier to own life than to love life.” Embracing the hard task of love demands that we be open to the leading of God’s Spirit, that we embrace a new understanding of power—not the power that lords over others, but the power of servanthood. It’s a power of self-giving love, a power that recognizes that all that we are, all that we have, comes as gift from God. There may be times when the best we can offer, as Charlie Shedd puts it, are “feeble hints to fellow strugglers,” but we do so in the conviction that God will strengthen and empower us for the journey of faith, that God will guide us in our efforts to live as servants of God and neighbor.
Brothers and sisters, even now Jesus invites and calls us to embrace a new way of living, the way of servanthood, the way of the cross. Knowing that we are upheld by the grace and goodness of our God, we can respond with courage. Affirming that all that we have, all that we are, comes as gift from God, we can respond with gratitude. In the compassionate spirit of Jesus, let us seek to deepen faith, proclaim peace, embrace community, welcome others, and serve our neighbor. Amen.
Holy God, creator of each of us and of all of us,
We come, celebrating your good gifts. We thank you for the wonders of creation, for the beauty of this day, for the richness of fall colors, for the changing seasons that remind us of the cycle of life, death, and rebirth.
O God of love, you who invite us to be your people, we come seeking deeper relationship with you and with one another. As deer thirst for flowing streams, so we long for you, O God, and so we long to be your people. Hear us now as individually we pray that you would guide us in the ways you set before us, the ways of justice, peace, compassion, self-giving love …
Gracious God, we confess that, try as we may, we cannot make it in life on our own strength alone. We find ourselves mired in self-centeredness. We hear your call to serve others, but find ourselves considering what’s in it for me. All around us, and frequently within us, there is pain, brokenness, confusion, fear. We are alienated from you and from one another.
O God, in moments of quietness speak to us words of guidance and wisdom for our daily living …
God of peace, deep within us there is a yearning for something more. We ache for the coming of that day when all humanity treats one another with respect, when compassion is not seen as weakness but as a gift, when strength is measured, not by power over others, but by the basin and towel of servanthood. We yearn for that day when hostilities are set aside, when justice reigns supreme among humankind, when the ways of peace are not considered idle dreaming, but the standard for life together among peoples and nations.
O God, hear now our prayers for the coming of your reign of justice, peace and new life …
O God of compassion and healing mercies, we hold before you those in special need of your healing strength. We pray for …
Thanks be to you, O God, for the ways you gift us and empower us. Bless today’s CROP Walk and all who seek to care for the hungry, bless this weekend’s meeting of the Church of the Brethren General Board, and bless our upcoming District Conference.
Thank Your God, for the gift of Jesus, the One who lived among us as example, as Redeemer, as our Rock and our Hope, and the One who even now is among us as living Lord. Amen.