Richard Davenport

September 22, 2024 – Proper 20

Mark 9:30-37

 

                Our Gospel reading for today comes not long before Christ’s final visit to Jerusalem.  Mark’s Gospel is shorter, so he moves through the events of Christ’s life a little faster than the others.  So, already in chapter 11 Jesus is riding into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, which means here in chapter 9, he has his sights firmly fixed on that moment and is journeying there with a purpose.

                As they travel on the road, he reminds them again of what will happen when they arrive.  It’s not the first time he’s said it, but it’s such an odd thing to say that it isn’t all that surprising they don’t understand it.  It’s also not surprising they’d be afraid to talk about it. It’s just an awkward conversation to be having.

                Instead, they move on to a conversation they feel they can sort out, which of them is the greatest?  In their day, honor and status were not infinite.  If someone else gained honor, that meant more attention was being paid to him and less was given to someone else.  That was the thinking, at any rate.  It was very important that you not take more than what you were due, so that everyone else would get what was due them.  So, sorting out the hierarchy was something that needed to happen, at least if honor was something you were concerned about.

                The question is how to sort that out.  You have Peter, James, and John, who tend to get invited to more things Jesus does.  That seems like it should count for something.  Matthew was a tax collector.  Tax collectors get a bad rap, but you’d still have to be good with numbers and have some business savvy to do the job well.  That seems like it should count for something too.  You have people like Simon, who is listed as “the Zealot.” Whether that means he’s part of the religious bunch known as the Zealots or whether he’s just an especially zealous guy, either way he’s obviously very dedicated to the cause.  That should count too.  Then you have Judas.  He’s responsible for the moneybag.  To have that kind of responsibility for the group must mean something too.

                Thankfully, things like honor and respect aren’t necessarily limited quantity items.  But, I get how you might come to the conclusion that you aren’t as valued if people aren’t paying as much attention to you.  That’s more of a fame problem though, which is a bit different.  I respected my professors at the seminary, but there were many I hardly interacted with at all because I never had the opportunity.

                There are so many different ways you could measure who is the most respectable in the group.  Is it the person who’s smartest?  The most educated?  The one with the best people skills?  The best with finances?  The one who spends the most time with the Master?  As the disciples, you could weigh things out in all sorts of ways. Does education count more than people skills? 

                The disciples keep having this discussion because they need to establish the hierarchy.  It’s a bit like being back in high school or college.  If you were a freshman, then you just knew you were low man on the totem pole compared to everyone else.  The upperclassmen knew the teachers, they knew the ins and outs of school and how things worked, who to talk to for this, how to get permission for that.  Of course, even within the grade, there is still a pecking order.  Who’s cool, who’s not, the jocks and cheerleaders on one end, the chess club on the other, and everyone else in between, fighting for position, trying desperately to stay out of that bottom spot.

                For whatever reason, we never really outgrow that desire, that need we have to sort out where we fall in the social hierarchy. The systems we use for determining that may change, but probably not all that much.  There’s always the sense that, if I’m less popular, if people pay less attention to me, then I’m not as respectable, that I’m not as valuable.  I need to make sure I’m high enough on the pecking order to get the attention I deserve.

                Jesus confronts them in their discussion, knowing exactly what the issue is.  They clam up when he asks them about it, perhaps because they don’t want him to upset their carefully planned system.  Whatever the case may be, Jesus rounds them all up and explains the matter.  He brings a child in to use as an example. The goal is not to be the greatest, but the least.

                Kids in those days had basically nothing in terms of legal rights.  They were considered general nuisances and weren’t admitted to important social gatherings.  Perhaps more than that, they required a lot of work.  Especially when it came to little kids, you had to feed them, bathe them, dress them, get them to sleep.  You had to be aware of them constantly because they didn’t understand what was dangerous and what wasn’t.  All of that was even more true in those days.  Without modern medicine, many illnesses and injuries that can be treated today were simply a death sentence.  Young bodies, already not as strong and robust as adult bodies, were in real danger from many diseases today that are all but eradicated in civilized society. 

                Kids take a lot of work to keep healthy and safe so they can live to reach adulthood.  Add to that their desire to run and play and make noise, instead of being quiet and following proper decorum and that they could contribute little to the workings of the household and you have a society that sees kids as more of a liability than anything else, albeit a necessary liability.  It wasn’t quite like you have today where large percentages of the population would rather do away with their children or avoid having children altogether so they didn’t have to deal with the responsibility, but that didn’t mean children were held in high regard.

                So when Jesus uses a child as an example of the kind of person you should be, it’s a little peculiar.  What does he mean by that?  There are other places he talks about faith and having faith like a little child, but that isn’t the focus here.  Here he focuses on social standing, on ability, on value.  What is it that God considers most valuable?

                It’s a situation I’ve run into more than a few times in various ways.  Folks in nursing homes or on disability, some sort of situation that isn’t likely to get any better.  A person ends up unable to care for himself the way he used to.  He needs help getting around, needs help getting himself put together in the morning, needs help doing all of the things he used to be able to do that were just a part of life.  Now he can’t.  He can’t help others.  He can’t even help himself.  All he can do is let someone else tend to all of his basic needs.

                It’s demoralizing.  It feels like being an infant all over again.  Helpless, fragile, nothing but a big drain on society. It’s perhaps even worse because at least infants have adulthood to look forward to.  Eventually they’ll grow up and be able to take care of themselves. The aged, the infirm, the disabled, rarely have that sort of future ahead of them.  Every day they get up is a day they are served.  It isn’t the sort of service given to royalty, where you could do the work, where you could be active and involved but instead choose to lounge and allow others to do the work for you.  No, that isn’t an option here.  If something is going to get done, it will have to be done by someone else, because you can’t do it yourself.

                Jesus sets a child there and uses him as an example. Is he someone who does great things and performs great works?  No, he’s just a kid.  Is he someone who will win great fame and fortune?  No, maybe later in life, but not today.  No, he probably won’t do anything truly noteworthy on a worldwide scale today.  He probably won’t even do something noteworthy on a neighborhood scale.  In fact, if he’s going to make it through the day at all, it will be because someone has taken care of him, given him food, clothes, shelter, has taught him, encouraged him, loved him.  It isn’t because he’s lazy or selfish.  It isn’t because he’s too proud to work.  It’s because he’s helpless and can’t do it himself.

                Jesus teaches the disciples something about fame, about value, about how what gets you honor and respect in the world is not necessarily the same as what God is looking for.  He sets a helpless child in their midst as the model.  The one who needs the most help is the one God cares for the most.  Not that he loves some people more than others, but that the ones who think they manage themselves don’t want his help.

                Where do you fall?  Trying to be on top of the heap ends up meaning you find your worth in other things.  God sees service as the greatest thing, both serving and being served.  Not being served out of laziness, but being served out of necessity, out of reliance on another person.  The child becomes the lesson.  If you recognize your helplessness, like that of a little child, then you go from having nothing to having everything, because I, your God, come to serve.

                There’s plenty of need of humility and repentance here, setting our worth on all kinds of things that have nothing to do with how God adds things up.  Thankfully, as Jesus says, “The Son of Man came not to be served, but to serve, and give his life as a ransom for many.”  Your helplessness is not a sign of shame.  It means you’re on the top of God’s list.  God serves you, caring for all of your needs, giving you the grace and righteousness to restore you, to wash away your impurities and make you holy and new again.  Then, having been served, he asks you to go and serve others, particularly those who are in the same position you once were.  Go forth and serve others as you have been served.  Forgive as you have been forgiven.  In this way, the love of God comes to those in need and they see their value not in what they can do, but in who is at work on their behalf.