Stooping lower still
Readings: Mark 9. 30-37
There are two conversations happening as Jesus and the 12 are travelling. Jesus is explaining to the 12 about his coming betrayal, death and resurrection. He’s letting them know again what the endgame is here. But the 12 don’t really get it, on the one hand because it doesn’t fit with what they expect of the Messiah, see last week’s sermon, but also because the word Jesus uses for rise again doesn’t have the connotations with resurrection we have, Greek doesn’t have a word for that, so it’s the same word you’d use for getting up from sitting, or raising up a statue.
The second conversation happening on the road is between the 12. They’re arguing about who is the greatest, who is the most important. In other words they’re arguing about who gets to be second in command, what the leadership structure will look like in their new community, perhaps even who will take over if Jesus does die as he’s predicting.
The two conversations couldn’t be more different. Here’s Jesus saying ‘I’m going to be betrayed, die and rise again’ meanwhile they’re going ‘great Jesus, now which of us gets to be deputy, how should we organise ourselves into different rankings’. And Jesus knows this conversation has been happening, so as they arrive in Capernaum he asks them about it. And none of them say anything, they’re embarrassed, maybe even ashamed. At some level they know they’ve messed up, got this wrong.
Jesus corrects them, telling them that whoever wants to be first must be last and servant of all. He’s inverting their whole idea of the social order. It’s not about being the greatest, it’s about being the least, our aspirations shouldn’t be to be the most important of all, but to be the servant of all.
It’s a bizarre conversation they’ve been having at some level isn’t it, about who is the greatest. Here are a bunch of fishermen, tax collectors, they’re not exactly the elite of society are they. In fact they’re pretty near the bottom. But they’re debating how much higher they could go thanks to this Jesus guy. Meanwhile Jesus is descending, lower and lower, past them, down further and further down into death and hell and loss. As they’re looking up for how high Jesus is going to take them, he’s already passing them on the way down.
It’s their pride talking here. They might not be all that, but Jesus has chosen them for some reason so that makes them pretty important. And whilst we may not be arguing over tea and coffee who the best Christian is out of us, we’re all in danger from pride. Listening to someone and thinking ‘ooh I wouldn’t do that’, ‘hmmm, they seem to be doing much better than me’. We so easily slip into ranking ourselves, who is ahead of us, who is beneath us. It’s almost automatic, and in some ways it is, we’re social creatures and we’re constantly trying to work out where we fit in the social order. How we can exercise our influence to ensure the outcome we want without upsetting those above us.
It all comes down to our pride. The 19th Century Anglican Bishop JC Ryle points out that pride is one of the commonest sins, he says ‘we all naturally think far better of ourselves than we ought. We all naturally fancy that we deserve something better than we have’ and he goes on to say it’s an old sin, going right back to Adam and Eve in Eden as they assume God is holding out on them. And it’s a subtle sin, again he says ‘It rules and reigns in many a heart without being detected and can even wear the garb of humility’. We can be prideful and put on a show of humility, even can fool ourselves, until our pride is wounded, and then it rears its head.
So what’s the solution? Jesus reorients their thinking in a rather striking way.
He takes a little child in his arms and says that whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me. Ok, that’s unexpected. And what he’s saying here isn’t about innocence or simplicity as is sometimes assumed. The child represents the opposite of the most important, here is one who in that culture had no social status, no standing in society, was at the very bottom of the pecking order. Which means what he’s saying isn’t so much about welcoming children, because in our culture and society we’d be all to happy to welcome children along. Rather he’s saying that to welcome the least and the last, those without status, without power or influence, those society overlooks or ignores, to welcome them is to welcome him.
We might assume that to welcome the most important of people is to welcome Jesus, afterall Jesus is Lord of all creation. And yet, even as we’re saying that, Jesus is on his way down lower and lower, you’ll find him at the lowest place, beneath even the lowliest of his followers. Of course to welcome them is to welcome him, that’s where he has made his home.
As I mentioned in The HUBB a few weeks ago I’ve been rewatching Doctor Who, and in series 10 Peter Capaldi as the Doctor says this to an industrial leader after an orphaned boy has died in the Thames and he doesn’t care ‘Human progress isn’t measured by industry. It’s measured by the value you place on a life. An unimportant life. A life without privilege. The boy who died on the river, that boy’s value is your value. That’s what defines an age, that’s… what defines a species.’ His words there echo what Jesus is saying here, the least and the last, those without status, those with no power or influence, how we treat them will define us. These are the ones Jesus calls us to welcome, they are the ones whom we’ll find Jesus amongst. The ones society would rather ignore; people struggling with addiction, the teenager who finds herself pregnant, the migrants and refugees capsized in the Channel, the unborn and the dying and so many more besides. How we treat them, the welcome we give to them, that will define us as a church, that will define us as a people. Do we dare to see Jesus in their midst, serving them and then going lower still, heading on down to die for them.
We so often miss Jesus’ words in how we are as a church, both at the local and national level. We can be too caught up in our own stuff, squabbles about who gets to make this decision or that change. Cosying up to power to gain more influence for ourselves. Making ourselves more comfortable, our lives easier.
And you might think that perhaps we don’t have squabbles here, that everyone here gets along pretty well. But is it just that we’ve worked out who the power players are and settled into a system where no-one rocks the boat? And beyond that does our church reflect our community? We can’t pat ourselves on the back for not getting distracted by who is most important here when actually the reason we never talk about it is that none of the people we might deem unimportant are here.
Jesus’ words cut across what we’d otherwise assume, cut across our cultural expectations about hierarchy and status. We easily play favourites, favour one group above another, have in mind the sort of people we’d welcome along on a Sunday and those we’d rather didn’t come along. Jesus is challenging us to throw all that away. Ditch any attempt at ranking ourselves.
You know what pride wont survive? A really good look at yourself. Jesus tells us to welcome the least and the last and the lost because that’s what he’s done for us. In the eyes of heaven and the eyes of God we were thoroughly unlovely, so far beneath him. And yet he comes in search of us. Loves us even in our unloveliness, stoops down to our level and keeps on going. When we get a good look at ourselves our pride won’t survive, we’ll realise we’re not that much higher than those we might want to exclude. And so we’re to ditch any attempt at ranking ourselves. And to do so because we’re too busy racing for the bottom, seeking to serve, be the servant of all. Are we too busy changing this church, changing this community such that it truly reflects that Saviour who stoops lower than we ever could that we can’t be distracted by power games?
As the people of the stooping Saviour, let us learn to serve, serve one another, serve this community. Because as we go lower and lower we will find Christ there. The one who has stooped to the lowest place, so that he can raise us to his heights.
Amen.