Monday, November 5, 2012

Think Little

This was the sermon for September 23rd, 2012. It's on Mark 9:30-37. Hope that you enjoy what it has to say.


Think Little

I watch a lot of college football, and since I watch a lot of football, I end up watching a lot of commercials. It sort of comes with the territory. And this early in the season, every time, I watch it thinking: “Wow, this is the commercial that I will be seeing over and over again for the next six months.” So I try (sometimes) to find ways to appreciate some of the commercials that I’m going to have to watch every Saturday until January.

One particular commercial, is for a little chicken sandwich, and it’s set in an office. The boss walks in with a big announcement. “Little news everyone!!!” he says, “The little wigs down at corporate are coming in, so I want everyone to think little!!” It goes on like this, wherever you’d expect him to say big, again he says little. “You want to be a little shot?” he asks. “Step it up!”

The text we have this week, Jesus is telling us to think little. That doesn’t mean think as little as possible. One of the great thing about the Presbyterian Church is that it has always encouraged thinking. We encourage people to think, to ask questions, and to always seek to learn more. That’s why there are so many Presbyterian colleges and universities.

What Jesus is telling us is that if we want to follow him, we can’t be thinking about how to make ourselves bigger. We have to humble ourselves and choose to make others bigger in our lives instead. In other words, if you want to be big, think little. This reversal is one of the major themes of the Gospel. Where you’d expect weakness, there is power. Where you’d expect power, there is weakness. God lifts David over Goliath. Hebrew slaves over their Egyptian masters. And, in the greatest example, the Almighty comes down, not in strength, but in human vulnerability, and lays himself down that we may know the way to true greatness. This is what Jesus has been explaining to the disciples as they made their way to Capernaum.

The disciples, on the other hand, are thinking big. When Jesus tells them that the son of Man will be betrayed, die, and be raised, they are afraid to ask what he means. No one wants to look small by admitting that they don’t understand. Instead, they remain silent. And as soon as Jesus has turned his back on them, they begin to argue over who is the greatest.

In today’s success driven world we’re always thinking, a little bit, about our own greatness. Wondering what other people think of us. Measuring ourselves against our neighbors, coworkers and friends. We drive by our neighbor’s house, and we wonder, “Is their house bigger than ours? I bet their electricity bill is through the roof.” We go to a funeral and we think, “What will they say about me?” When someone says that their grandchild has learned his ABC’s in record time, we find a way to casually slip into the conversation that our granddaughter was walking way before the age the experts say is normal.

And in the midst of all this posturing and positioning, all these comparisons to see who fits where in the pecking order, Jesus asks his disciples, “What were you arguing about on the way?” and the disciples are caught up short. They are silent once again, this time because they are ashamed.

This is a question that pulls me up short as well. I try not to be too much of a worrier. The lesson in my family has always been, if it’s something you can do something about, do your best, and don’t leave anything behind. But there’s no use worrying about things you don’t have any control over. So when it comes to the afterlife, I decided a long time ago that I was going to give myself up to God, and do my best to be who God wants me to be, and to love like God wants me to love, and if I do my best, worrying won’t do me any good. But even so, I worry, that when Christ comes in glory, and I stand before him, he will ask me, “What were you arguing about on the way?” Why did you spend so much time fighting when you could have been feeding my sheep? Why did you spend so much time trying to look impressive and strong when I came down to earth in weakness and vulnerability?  And I too, will remain silent. And I too, will be ashamed.

Now we should spend a little extra time on this phrase, “on the way” because Mark is not just talking about where they were going right then, but about where we are all going. “The Way” was one of the earliest phrases used to describe Christianity, and “on the way” is Mark’s shorthand for choosing to follow Jesus. It’s repeated several times in this section of his gospel. To follow Jesus is to be on the way. Not, as the disciples think, on the way to greatness, but on the way to Jerusalem. Jesus has a different way from the ways of the world, from the rat race, the competition for status and respect, the desire to be the biggest, the greatest, and the smartest. Jesus wants us to think little.

“Who ever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” Jesus said. And then he takes a child in his arms. And he says that “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.”  Now we like to interpret this using our modern eyes, and in our modern eyes, children are just absolutely precious. They are adorable, and they say the darndest things, and we think that there is wisdom in their innocence and simplicity. We celebrate the idea of looking at things with a child’s eyes. But if we were to put on our first century glasses, we would see something different.

It’s not that people in the ancient world hated children, it’s just that they were, well, sort of useless. A liability at best. They would eventually, when they grew up, become adults in the household, and share in its support and in its improvement, but until then, they were just another mouth to feed. There was a good chance that they would contract an illness and die. The care of children was largely pushed onto that other marginalized group that Jesus cared about, women, and they were largely held from view, lest they do something embarrassing.

So if we leave our first century glasses on, but put our eyes back onto our society, we’re forced to wonder, who fits that description now? Who are the people in our world who are considered liabilities, who don’t matter, who have little value, and are best kept out of view lest they do something embarrassing. I can think of a few groups of people who might fit these qualifications, a few who we might be able to welcome just as Jesus welcomes this little child.

Millard Fuller was a remarkably successful businessman. He started a marketing firm with a friend while he was still in college at Auburn, and by age 29, he was a millionaire. He and his wife owned nice cars, a huge house, and lots of land. They had just about anything that money could buy.

Except . . . well, they weren’t happy. They looked around at everything they had, and they thought that there just must be something more to life than what they were getting.

One of their friends suggested that they turn to God, and so they tried reading the Bible and praying with other Christians, and eventually were led to a place called Koinonia Farms, where people were trying to find practical ways to apply Christ’s teachings.

They heard from these Christians that there was more to life than what success could bring, and they became determined to find out what it was. They decided to give away their wealth. They sold their cars, their house, the land, the cattle, everything. And they gave it all away. For the next five years, they worked in missions. At Koinonia they worked to set up low-cost housing for people in Georgia. Later, they took this program to Zaire, and built a hundred low-cost units to house people there. Eventually, they decided that God was calling them to implement this vision here in the United States. They started Habitat for Humanity, which has at this point built more than half a million houses on five continents which house more than 1.75 million people.

Millard was a remarkable innovator, and with his success at a young age, he likely could have built one of the world’s greatest fortunes, but instead, he chose a different path. Instead of choosing to build himself up, Millard and his wife chose to lift others up. They chose to make themselves servants, and in doing so, they finally found the fulfillment and happiness that they had sought.

In spite of the worldly vision that we can lift ourselves up into greatness, into bigness, and then we will be happy, Jesus offers us another way. He says if you want to be first, you must put yourself last. If you want to be big, think little. If you want the King of Kings in your life, you must make yourself the servant of servants. You must welcome the lowly and the insignificant and the worthless in His name, and in doing so you will be welcoming Him into your heart. In lifting others up over yourself you will find much more joy than all of the greatness in the world can give you. As Rev. James Freeman Clarke says, “See you do good, and you will find that happiness will run after you.”

The way is neither easy nor safe. It calls us to give ourselves up for others, and not just those who would do the same for us, but for those who have nothing to give in return. But though we might lose everything, even our lives, we have the world to gain. If we just put our trust in God and think little, something big will come our way.

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