Servant of All and Slave of None
So which people are the greatest and which people are the least? It depends whom you ask. The scene we witness in Mark 9:30-37, and the words Jesus speaks, help put our pride in its place and inspire our Jesus-like humility to be Servant of All and Slave of None. October 4, 2009.
Noted as one of Time magazine’s 100 most important people of the 20th century, Muhammed Ali won the gold medal for boxing in the 1960 Rome Olympics and rose to heroic glory from there. “Floating, stinging, punching, prophesying, he transformed his sport and became the world’s most adored athlete” (http://www.time.com/time/time100/heroes/profile/ali01.html). He gave up what he called his slave name, Cassius Clay, for his new Islam name and eventually just referred to himself as “The Greatest.” His “engaging combination of sass and sweetness” (Ibid), along with exceptional talent, gave him a perceived privilege to such a claim, but today his Parkinson’s Disease is proving to be the greater fighter. The disease enslaves its victims, greatest or least, with no known cure. Hopefully Ali, now in retirement and fighting for numerous worthy causes, is no longer enslaved by his ego.
Another one of Time magazine’s 100 most important people of the 20th century served 27 years in prison civil rights crusader for democracy and desegregation in South Africa. Nelson Mandela was eventually elected president and awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. He comments about his track record of service and statesmanship: “I was not a messiah, but an ordinary man who had become a leader because of extraordinary circumstances” (http://www.time.com/time/time100/leaders/profile/mandela.html). By contrast to Ali, Mandela is not far from calling himself, , “The Least,” and could certainly be described as a humble civil servant.
So which people are the greatest and which people are the least? It depends whom you ask. And it depends less on position and more on attitude. Jesus may appear to care little about posturing for position, but actually, he cares a lot about it. He cares that pride might get in the way of faith and following him. The scene we witness in Mark 9, and the words Jesus speaks, help put our pride in its place and inspire our Jesus-like humility to be Servant of All and Slave of None.
Jesus does it
One of the themes of the gospel of Mark is Jesus repeatedly instructing his disciples about his imminent suffering, death, and resurrection. “They passed through Galilee,” we’re told, and a later verse expands, “They were on their way … to Jerusalem, with Jesus leading the way” (Mark 10:32). Of the three latest occasions in the gospel of Mark when Jesus announces his bloody mission, one occurs in Caesarea Philippi way northeast of the Sea of Galilee, one in Capernaum on the northwest shore, and the third – and final – takes place on the road going to Jerusalem. From a location far up north, to Jerusalem itself in the south, the itinerary of Jesus subtly reinforces the determination of Jesus to become the victim of death in place of all people and the sacrifice for the sins of all people – on a cross waiting in Jerusalem just for servant of all, who told his disciples that he “must suffer many things and be rejected … and that he must be killed and after three days rise again” (Mark 8:31). “It is going to happen,” was Jesus’ attitude of determined servanthood, not because he thrilled in bloody beatings, but because he willed whatever his Father asked. By choice. Even death. To save you.
Even as the servant of all, Jesus knew that death and sin would not enslave him. “After three days he will rise.” “Crucified, died, and was buried … seated at the right hand of God!” we acclaim to Jesus in the creeds. He is Servant of All and Slave of None. He died but death cannot imprison him. He suffered for sin but sin can no longer curse or control him. Tsunamis, cancer, and a hurting economy cannot tell our risen and ascended Lord what to do.
The disciples don’t get it
“I sing the body electric, I celebrate the new year to come, I toast to my own reunion when I become one with the sun … I’m gonna live forever, I’m gonna learn how to fly – High! I feel it comin’ together, people will see me and cry – Fame!” Last week a new version of the 1980 movie Fame was released, tracking a group of talented students through a performing arts high school, all who have a dream. Fame. For Jesus fame wasn’t the goal, and wasn’t even the means to the goal. “Jesus did not want anyone to know where they were.” For the disciples, fame and greatness were, for the moment, both goal and means. Another theme of Mark’s gospel is that each time Jesus announces his pending suffering and death, the disciples respond improperly in some way. Peter rebuked him. Other followers left him. This time, after they arrive in Capernaum, Jesus asks his disciples, “’What were you arguing about on the road?’ But they kept silent because on the way they had argued about who was the greatest.” Peter, James, and John had been invited by Jesus to his transfiguration and to the private bedroom where Jesus raised Jairus’ daughter from the dead. Judas held control of the disciples’ treasury and Matthew had connections in high places. Andrew was one of the first to follow Jesus and Jesus had called Nathanael a true Israelite. So who was the greatest? The disciples felt it necessary to figure that out. So much that they actually argued about it. But why? Why did it matter? And then they prove their own sinful pride when they have no answer for Jesus. Like the story about Muhammed Ali in his prime getting on an airplane and the flight attendant kindly asking him to buckle his seat belt. “Superman don’t need no seat belt,” Ali boasted, to which she replied, “Superman don’t need no airplane either.” How do you answer that?
“I am the greatest.” The disciples didn’t see themselves as servants of all so they became enslaved by their selfish pride. “I am the greatest,” any of us claim when we consistently ignore the doctor’s warnings or we disobey mom or dad’s clear instructions. “I am the greatest,” any of us claim when we succeed in competition followed by a letdown performance as a result of thinking we just automatically owned first place. “I am the greatest,” any of us claim when thoughts of superiority over other ethnic groups, social classes, or even religious denominations prevent us from respecting those people as valuable individuals. “I am the greatest,” any of us claim when we deny God’s right to be God over us and instead of us every day. The Bible says such sinful pride “does not come down from heaven but is earthly, unspiritual, of the devil” (James 3:15). Sinful pride is deceptive, dangerous, and directly connected to the devil. Kill it before it kills you!
Jesus already killed sinful pride and it will stay dead unless summoned to life by our selfish desires. To prevent this, the Bible says, “Sitting down, Jesus called the Twelve and said, ‘If anyone wants to be first, he must be the very last, and the servant of all.’” Who else in this world gives you permission to be last? Your parents don’t tell you, “Please slack off your studying to drop that GPA.” The VP for sales doesn’t demand, “Take it easy, we need to slow down or we’ll outperform our competitors.” You don’t need to be first to get Jesus’ attention. You don’t need to be great to have his love. Jesus took the time to sit down in the dirt of his disciples, who had just disrespected him, to let them know this. Jesus serves us “that we should no longer be slaves to sin” (Romans 6:6). We are disciples of Jesus, free from sin’s curse and control, determined like Jesus to be last in order to serve God and others. Servant of All and Slave of None.
Children demonstrate it
These days, moms and dads smother their children with Christmas presents, throw lavish birthday parties for their children, and scream at players and parents and coaches of the same team in their child’s competitions. That wouldn’t have happened in Jesus’ day. Children were nonpeople. Nobodies, at least in public. Children were to stay with mom at home and keep out of the way until they could grow up and contribute to society. So when Jesus finds a child and takes him in his arms, the disciples were really wondering what in the world he was doing. A child didn’t belong so close to a great teacher among a gathering of adults then as much as a CEO doesn’t bring his 3-year-old into the executive board meeting today. But Jesus sees things so differently. “Whoever humbles himself like this child,” Jesus promised, “is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 18:3). Little children have something to teach us grown ups about humble faith. Their humble eyes they see so much more than we do because they aren’t blinded by cynicism. Their humble lips, not worried about persuading public opinion, say the simplest yet most profound things that make us stop for a moment and ponder. Her humble little fingers put on a pair of slippers and she turns into Cinderella or his humble little fingers drape a bath towel behind his backside and he turns into Superman; who they can become isn’t limited by scarred self-skepticism. Their humble hearts believe anything – as long as they hear it from mom or dad. Jesus tells us that when it comes to greatness, we should be more like children. Less concerned about matters beyond our control and more trusting – with a humble faith that is more naïve to human logic and adult analysis, more innocent to the world’s warped way of thinking, and more explorative to new and unlimited opportunities if only we’re willing to imagine the impossible.
As a Servant of All and Slave of None, each of us can give our greatest attention to people not from the top down – not starting with those who have competed for achievement and come out on top, or we’re drawn to their fame or we benefit from their connection. Rather, we give our greatest attention to people from the bottom up, to the people who can’t compete, or who competed and lost, or who have no fame to attract us or even reward to give us. And in them we find Jesus, even the Almighty God and Father himself. Waiting to welcome us. Jesus said, “Whoever welcomes one of these little children in my name welcomes me; and whoever welcomes me does not welcome me but the one who sent me.” The heavenly Father didn’t find us as the objects of his love; he created us. We are not slaves, but sons and daughters. Free!
Nelson Mandela once said, “For to be free is not merely to cast off one’s chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others” (Long Walk to Freedom: The Autobiography of Nelson Mandela, QMB, United States, Part 11, “Freedom”). We, who are the greatest in the eyes of Jesus, have his permission – his blessing – to be the least and the last compared to others. Free, not forced, to live and love with humble faith; as a Servant of All and Slave of None. Amen.
Preached at Grace Lutheran Church, Milwaukee, WI (www.gracedowntown.org) on October 4, 2009
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