Sewn In Peace
September 20, 2009
James 3:13-4:3, 7-8; Mark 9:30-37
Along with many of you, I’ve watched with mounting dismay and disgust what is passing for public discourse on health care reform and other issues of the day. I’ve watched the ridiculous displays of partisan vitriol from angry citizens and public officials. I’ve read on-line exchanges between Left and Right.
Through it all, I see people talking right past one another, and I wonder, with the author of James, “these conflicts and disputes – where do they come from?”
Oh, to be sure, there are real and legitimate points of difference in the great debates of the day, but none of that seems to be at stake in these “conflicts and disputes.”
Moreover, in these conflicts and disputes I see something deeper at stake that has at once nothing and everything to do with public discourse, and, at a deeper level, everything to do with issues at the core of our identities.
Perhaps I should say, our multiple identities. For, without getting clinical about it, each of us wears several identities as parent, child, employee, student, boss, neighbor, citizen, gardener, football fan and so on.
But before all of that we share this: we are beloved children of a loving God, and, as Christians, we understand God best through the lens of the gospel of love and justice spoken in and through the life of Jesus of Nazareth. Before donning any of our several identities, we are marked, in the waters of baptism, as Christ’s own for the world.
In a profound sense then, if not in a decent, orderly and Presbyterian sense, this is our common ordination, or common calling. Jesus told his first followers that they had not chosen him, rather he had chosen them and called them for the ministry of sharing the gospel.
Of course, they immediately set out trying to force that gospel of wildly inclusive love into cultural and institutional categories that they understood. In the reading from Mark this morning that is exactly what is going on. The disciples are on the way to Capernaum, and along the way they are engaged in a great debate – a conflict and dispute – about which one of them is top dog. Who is going to be CEO of Jesus, Inc.? What is the best plan for setting it up? Oh, and how do we get to Capernaum from here?
Maybe they got to the level of policy. “John says that next time we feed 5,000 people we should divide them by hundreds for efficiency, but James says the traditional way is to divide into 12 groups.”
“Well, Andrew says that next time we do a healing we should let everybody in, but Matthew says we should specialize in giving the blind new sight. He says it’s in Isaiah. Besides, we have some success with that and we should stick with what works.”
“I’m for the public option!”
“Well, I’m against it!”
And so it goes.
“These conflicts and disputes – where do they come from?”
That they should arise on the way to Capernaum caught my eye. Capernaum was home base for Jesus and the disciples. So they are heading home for a bit of time apart – kind of like our Oct. 3 mini-retreat, a time for us to think together about who we are. Even there, however, the baggage of cultural expectations weighs upon them and they wind up arguing about that most common and divisive question: who’s number one.
Jesus responds to the argument by telling his followers that the first among them shall be last and servant to all. He turns their worldview of hierarchical and patriarchal systems completely upside down, and inside out – or, better, outside in.
The next piece of the story disturbs the boundaries completely, as Jesus tells the disciples that the children will have center place – this in a culture that placed precious little value on children – perhaps even less than our own in which children are far more likely than adults to live in poverty, to go hungry to be victims of violence, and to lack adequate health care.
At least in first century culture they did not apparently give lip service to valuing children.
Jesus, however, embraced them and, in so doing, undermined the social norm of placing high value on achievement, affluence and power.
The Markan text also tells us the Jesus sat down here, which is key to understanding the dynamic. To sit with the twelve indicates that what Jesus has to say here is particularly important for those charged with carrying out his mission after his death. He’s gathering his closest friends together to make sure they get it.
Thus, this is a word of particular importance for us – those who would today be called disciples.
And what is the word of the Lord for us? Surely we are called to question a social order that suffers many of the same ills of Jesus’ time. Reading Mark this morning alongside James, we may also discern a particular call to question public discourse that seems bent more on scoring political points and reinforcing power structures than on feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, comforting the sick.
If we are to be the church of Jesus Christ, if we are to be his disciples, we are invited here to rethink things – to rethink who’s in and who’s out, who’s up and who’s down, who’s worthy and who’s not. More than that, in truth, we are called to rethink those categories entirely.
We begin this rethinking in our own lives on the most basic levels. Who is honored in your life and why? When we think about our families and our most intimate relationships it’s pretty easy to see that we honor them because of who they are, because we love them and they love us. And that love is not contingent on their success or the ways that they make us successful. But when we move out into other circles of relationships – at work, or school, or in church – do we fall back on the categories of power and affluence and influence: what can this person do for me? Do I honor him because he’s in with the in crowd? Do I honor her because she has power and authority? Do I honor her because she can advance my agenda? Is this the one who will help me achieve? Is this the one who is number one?
Who is on top? Who’s number one? That’s the question the disciples ask and argue; but it’s the wrong question, Jesus insists.
So the story goes, once there was a young preacher. He thought he was pretty hot stuff. Thought he was on the way to power in the church and influence in the city. He came to a small congregation in the city and dreamed of building a great following. But it wasn’t working out that way. The congregation was struggling. It was hard to pay the bills, and even harder to fill the pews. The people were discouraged and so was the young preacher.
One day he was talking with a wise elder from a neighboring church, and venting his frustrations. The wise elder listened quietly, and after a long silence he said, “well, I’ve visited your church and been with you all, and I have this incredibly strong intuition that the messiah is among you. One of your number is the Christ.”
The young preacher knew enough not to question the wisdom of this elder for whom he had deep respect, but he was pretty confused by the comment. Still, at the next session meeting, he shared the wise elder’s observation. And the church’s elders looked around at each other in wonder. It didn’t take long for the comment to spread through the congregation. Word travels fast in small churches, after all.
The people were a bit amused and skeptical. Each one thought, “well, it’s sure not me.” But they were also taken by the word, and began to look at each other, each asking, “could she be the one? Could it be him?”
And they began to pay closer attention to each other, each treating every other as if that person might be, could be the messiah, the Christ. Over the weeks and months, newcomers visited, and they noticed how the people treated one another, and they thought, “wow, this is the kind of community I want to be part of.”
And so it went, for weeks and weeks, and then month after month, until a year had passed, and the young preacher met the wise elder again. The elder asked how things were going, and the young preacher said, “you won’t believe it, but the congregation is growing stronger and stronger day by day. The people are amazing. They are doing incredible ministry together – praying together, studying scripture together, helping one another in amazing ways, feeding the hungry, welcoming the homeless, peacemaking, doing justice. The people don’t come to be served, but to serve each other. It’s just remarkable. I don’t know what happened, but we are in a very different place than we were a year ago.”
The young preacher shook his head in wonder. The wise elder simply smiled and nodded.
“Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all … whoever welcomes the least of these, welcomes me.”
Amen.
James 3:13-4:3, 7-8; Mark 9:30-37
Along with many of you, I’ve watched with mounting dismay and disgust what is passing for public discourse on health care reform and other issues of the day. I’ve watched the ridiculous displays of partisan vitriol from angry citizens and public officials. I’ve read on-line exchanges between Left and Right.
Through it all, I see people talking right past one another, and I wonder, with the author of James, “these conflicts and disputes – where do they come from?”
Oh, to be sure, there are real and legitimate points of difference in the great debates of the day, but none of that seems to be at stake in these “conflicts and disputes.”
Moreover, in these conflicts and disputes I see something deeper at stake that has at once nothing and everything to do with public discourse, and, at a deeper level, everything to do with issues at the core of our identities.
Perhaps I should say, our multiple identities. For, without getting clinical about it, each of us wears several identities as parent, child, employee, student, boss, neighbor, citizen, gardener, football fan and so on.
But before all of that we share this: we are beloved children of a loving God, and, as Christians, we understand God best through the lens of the gospel of love and justice spoken in and through the life of Jesus of Nazareth. Before donning any of our several identities, we are marked, in the waters of baptism, as Christ’s own for the world.
In a profound sense then, if not in a decent, orderly and Presbyterian sense, this is our common ordination, or common calling. Jesus told his first followers that they had not chosen him, rather he had chosen them and called them for the ministry of sharing the gospel.
Of course, they immediately set out trying to force that gospel of wildly inclusive love into cultural and institutional categories that they understood. In the reading from Mark this morning that is exactly what is going on. The disciples are on the way to Capernaum, and along the way they are engaged in a great debate – a conflict and dispute – about which one of them is top dog. Who is going to be CEO of Jesus, Inc.? What is the best plan for setting it up? Oh, and how do we get to Capernaum from here?
Maybe they got to the level of policy. “John says that next time we feed 5,000 people we should divide them by hundreds for efficiency, but James says the traditional way is to divide into 12 groups.”
“Well, Andrew says that next time we do a healing we should let everybody in, but Matthew says we should specialize in giving the blind new sight. He says it’s in Isaiah. Besides, we have some success with that and we should stick with what works.”
“I’m for the public option!”
“Well, I’m against it!”
And so it goes.
“These conflicts and disputes – where do they come from?”
That they should arise on the way to Capernaum caught my eye. Capernaum was home base for Jesus and the disciples. So they are heading home for a bit of time apart – kind of like our Oct. 3 mini-retreat, a time for us to think together about who we are. Even there, however, the baggage of cultural expectations weighs upon them and they wind up arguing about that most common and divisive question: who’s number one.
Jesus responds to the argument by telling his followers that the first among them shall be last and servant to all. He turns their worldview of hierarchical and patriarchal systems completely upside down, and inside out – or, better, outside in.
The next piece of the story disturbs the boundaries completely, as Jesus tells the disciples that the children will have center place – this in a culture that placed precious little value on children – perhaps even less than our own in which children are far more likely than adults to live in poverty, to go hungry to be victims of violence, and to lack adequate health care.
At least in first century culture they did not apparently give lip service to valuing children.
Jesus, however, embraced them and, in so doing, undermined the social norm of placing high value on achievement, affluence and power.
The Markan text also tells us the Jesus sat down here, which is key to understanding the dynamic. To sit with the twelve indicates that what Jesus has to say here is particularly important for those charged with carrying out his mission after his death. He’s gathering his closest friends together to make sure they get it.
Thus, this is a word of particular importance for us – those who would today be called disciples.
And what is the word of the Lord for us? Surely we are called to question a social order that suffers many of the same ills of Jesus’ time. Reading Mark this morning alongside James, we may also discern a particular call to question public discourse that seems bent more on scoring political points and reinforcing power structures than on feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, comforting the sick.
If we are to be the church of Jesus Christ, if we are to be his disciples, we are invited here to rethink things – to rethink who’s in and who’s out, who’s up and who’s down, who’s worthy and who’s not. More than that, in truth, we are called to rethink those categories entirely.
We begin this rethinking in our own lives on the most basic levels. Who is honored in your life and why? When we think about our families and our most intimate relationships it’s pretty easy to see that we honor them because of who they are, because we love them and they love us. And that love is not contingent on their success or the ways that they make us successful. But when we move out into other circles of relationships – at work, or school, or in church – do we fall back on the categories of power and affluence and influence: what can this person do for me? Do I honor him because he’s in with the in crowd? Do I honor her because she has power and authority? Do I honor her because she can advance my agenda? Is this the one who will help me achieve? Is this the one who is number one?
Who is on top? Who’s number one? That’s the question the disciples ask and argue; but it’s the wrong question, Jesus insists.
So the story goes, once there was a young preacher. He thought he was pretty hot stuff. Thought he was on the way to power in the church and influence in the city. He came to a small congregation in the city and dreamed of building a great following. But it wasn’t working out that way. The congregation was struggling. It was hard to pay the bills, and even harder to fill the pews. The people were discouraged and so was the young preacher.
One day he was talking with a wise elder from a neighboring church, and venting his frustrations. The wise elder listened quietly, and after a long silence he said, “well, I’ve visited your church and been with you all, and I have this incredibly strong intuition that the messiah is among you. One of your number is the Christ.”
The young preacher knew enough not to question the wisdom of this elder for whom he had deep respect, but he was pretty confused by the comment. Still, at the next session meeting, he shared the wise elder’s observation. And the church’s elders looked around at each other in wonder. It didn’t take long for the comment to spread through the congregation. Word travels fast in small churches, after all.
The people were a bit amused and skeptical. Each one thought, “well, it’s sure not me.” But they were also taken by the word, and began to look at each other, each asking, “could she be the one? Could it be him?”
And they began to pay closer attention to each other, each treating every other as if that person might be, could be the messiah, the Christ. Over the weeks and months, newcomers visited, and they noticed how the people treated one another, and they thought, “wow, this is the kind of community I want to be part of.”
And so it went, for weeks and weeks, and then month after month, until a year had passed, and the young preacher met the wise elder again. The elder asked how things were going, and the young preacher said, “you won’t believe it, but the congregation is growing stronger and stronger day by day. The people are amazing. They are doing incredible ministry together – praying together, studying scripture together, helping one another in amazing ways, feeding the hungry, welcoming the homeless, peacemaking, doing justice. The people don’t come to be served, but to serve each other. It’s just remarkable. I don’t know what happened, but we are in a very different place than we were a year ago.”
The young preacher shook his head in wonder. The wise elder simply smiled and nodded.
“Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all … whoever welcomes the least of these, welcomes me.”
Amen.
posted by David Ensign at
2:28 PM
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