What do we ask of Jesus?

A reflection on Mark 10:35-45, preached Sunday, 22 October 2006

From time to time – but not very often, it seems to me – along comes a bible passage that doesn’t really need a lot of hard work to comprehend. Frequently, bible passages use language which has no modern equivalent or refer to social structures which we don’t understand; sometimes they lend themselves to a number of different interpretations; sometimes they appear to contradict other passages of scripture. So, when a piece such as this morning’s gospel reading comes along, it’s something of a relief to the preacher preparing the sermon.

Last week, reflecting on the story of the rich man and those words of Jesus about camels and the eyes of needles, I quoted Stacey Simpson and her memories of being a seven-year-old hearer of the gospel. She said, “The little girl inside me knew that these words of Jesus were clear and hard and scary”.

Sometimes the words of Jesus are clear, and frequently those clear words are hard and not a little bit scary.

Jesus says, “Whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all”. I don’t think it gets much clearer or harder or scarier than that.

I suspect that none of us needs to hear a theological exposition of what Jesus means. We know full well that we are called to serve, and we are not slow to point to those disciples of Jesus who appear to have lost track of being a “slave to all” in favour of fame and fortune.

The message is clear, but why is it so hard?

This morning I simply want to give you three examples of how the gospel challenges us, and invite your reflection upon how these words apply to each of us individually as well as how they apply to us as a community of disciples.

First story:

Carol and I recently spent time with a colleague who told us of a member of his congregation who had come to him for help. The man, let’s call him James, related a story of always being passed over for promotion. He had studied, he had read books on how to succeed in his workplace, he had been to seminars, he had taken on a “life coach”, he had applied all the recommended theories of leadership and he was the most senior person in the workplace but still he was being passed over. Our friend asked him, “James, why do you want to be promoted?” James replied, “Well, getting promoted is what is supposed to happen. It will show I’m good at what I do. It will show I’m worth something. After all, the more people you are in charge of, the more successful you are.”

Our friend thought for a moment and then asked, “Is that what Jesus tells us?”

James was very thoughtful and then the two of them, James and his minister, went on to have a conversation about the example and words of Jesus in stories like this:

"You know that among the Gentiles those whom they recognise as their rulers lord it over them… But it is not so among you… whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all.”

Slowly James began to understand just how much he had bought the world’s priority on success; its definition of how a person’s worth is measured. He came to see how much he had lost sight of his calling as a follower of Jesus. It is not how many people you are in charge of, but how many you serve.

Many of you may well be thinking, “But this doesn’t apply to me, I’m long past trying to be the best, trying to climb the promotion ladder.” Then let me tell you the second story.

Last weekend my sister and I spent time helping our parents clean out their house in readiness to move into an independent living unit in a BlueCare facility. On more than one occasion, my father was heard to say things like, “I’ve reached my use-by-date. I suppose I’ll have to get used to being no use anymore”. It was really sad to hear.

And part of my sadness is because my father has bought the world’s definition of worth. He no longer has the same degree of control over his life as he once had and so he feels he no longer has anything to contribute. His view of the world remains tied to notions of competence and success, and he is yet to discover that worth can be measured in relationships and in opportunities to serve others.

Whether we are climbing the corporate ladder or moving in the world of retirement, the gospel is hard to deal with because it challenges so much that we have been taught, so much we have strived for, so much that gives us comfort and security.

Third and final story (and this is the scary one):

Recently, at a Presbytery committee meeting, one of the people (let’s call him John) was expressing his dismay that the church seemed happy to slip into decline. John went on to say that he wanted to be part of a church that was successful. Others tried to say something about the risks of chasing success, that having a church bursting at the seams is no guarantee of being faithful followers of Jesus. The discussion that followed revealed some interesting understandings among the people there. For some Christians like John there is a strong connection between serving and failing, and an equally strong connection between leading and succeeding. And that is the scary part.

In Mark’s gospel Jesus tells us that, as his followers, leading and succeeding are not our destiny. And I’m confident Jesus is not talking about failing either. Jesus calls us to a different way. He calls us to serve, to value others, to attend to their needs. This is a call which places relationship above all else.

Our culture tells us that if we are not the best, the star, the person in charge, then our worth is limited – even non-existent. But Jesus says our true worth lies in relationships: with God, with each other, and with those we are called to serve. By being faithful to this call, we find our real worth as human beings and as children of God.

Because we live in such an individualistic age, it is easy to recognise the truth of the call to serve in our own lives, but equally, perhaps even more so, we have a communal responsibility to serve. This is our raison-d’être, our purpose as a church, our call to be a community of disciples. The measure of our success is not in the numbers of people who fill our pews; it is in the number of people we serve.

Serving others becomes the marker of the reign of God. It is the sign of compassion, the indicator of the presence of mercy and justice, the means by which good news is brought to the poor.