St. John’s Lutheran Church
22 September 2024 + Lectionary 25b
Mark 9:30-37
Rev. Kate Drefke
“Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.”
Right away reminds me of sixth grade.
I don’t know why, but for a few years, my middle school decided that 6th graders should do a few days in the fall at some YMCA camp.
Literally the only thing I do remember from that … week? [shrug]- and only partially- is that we had to learn some saying about the last shall be first.
Something along those lines.
My homeroom teacher latched onto it STROOONG,
and for the rest of the year, every morning after the pledge of allegiance, we had to say, “Put the last first,” or whatever it was, before we could sit down and get on with whatever was going to bore us that day.
I don’t recall it ever having any sort of application to how we were to behave towards others.
The other thing that line brings to my mind is Luther’s paradoxical thesis in his 1520 treatise, The Freedom of a Christian,
“The Christian individual is a completely free lord of all, subject to none.
The Christian individual is a completely dutiful servant of all, subject to all.”
Luther asserts that Christian liberty frees one from earthly bondage,
and simultaneously binds us to the needs and welfare of our neighbor,
in whom we are to both see God and be as Christ to them.
The lectionary drops us in the middle of Mark’s 9th chapter.
Narratively, this is after the Transfiguration,
that mountain top experience with visions of Moses and Elijah;
the guys just want to stay and dwell forever in that moment with these great teachers.
But buzzkill-Jesus takes them back down the mountain,
where they quickly encounter painful reality.
A desperate father, carrying his young son, seeking help for the child who has been so seized by a spirit that he is unable to speak,
appeals directly to Jesus;
the latter’s disciples could not help him.
In the ensuing dialogue, the man begs for Jesus’ help, even after Jesus calls him part of the “faithless generation.”
Undeterred, the man cries out, ““I believe; help my unbelief!”
… Jesus rebukes the possessing spirit, and it fights its way out of the small body…
The trauma of exorcism leaves the boy, already consumed, so spent, his body lies limp like the newly dead,
but he lives, can stand first with assistance.
As they walk away, the disciples wonder why they couldn’t do anything.
Jesus says that kind of spirit can only come out through prayer.
I maybe shouldn’t have brought that last bit up because I’m not going to talk about the power of prayer, or medical science.
But I did say it because, …
their travels continue and Jesus drops on them again- this is the third time in Mark- a foretelling of his rejection, suffering, death, and resurrection.
This is not a normal topic of conversation, and the disciples are all justifiably confused.
But at this point, they’ve heard Jesus talk like this a few times and they… aren’t so sure they can ask him for clarification.
They’re kinda afraid of looking dumb.
There’s been a lot of unexplainable things,
and the few that were on the mountaintop were ordered not to tell anyone about what they had witnessed until after all this death and resurrection stuff- whatever that means!- had happened.
Maybe they talked about it between the three of them, trying to figure out what it all meant;
maybe they did share with the others- an experience so unbelievable they couldn’t keep it to themselves.
Whatever they have or haven’t shared,
or gotten together in a study group to try and decipher these cryptic things,
or retreated into themselves,
they’re again walking a dusty road
after witnessing amazing things,
being told the incomprehensible.
It sounds overwhelming.
I would probably join them in that very human thing-
play the status game,
sorting who is greater,
and who just sucks.
And having arrived at their destination,
Jesus shocks us all and says, “you got it wrong guys.”
Where the world tells us about accumulating wealth,
titles and awards- the fancier the better-
the importance of ascending the ranks at work,
keeping up with and trying to have more than the Joneses…
Jesus says that stuff doesn’t matter.
Instead, we are to put the needs of others before our wants and comforts.
Is your neighbor without food while you have more than enough for leftovers (and maybe some science experiments in your fridge)?
Give them what they need from what you have to start, not what you have leftover.
Kids fundraising to pay off their classmates’ lunch debt are NOT feelgood stories;
they are indictments against our communities’ care of children.
They convict us in our moral failings, and our failure to follow Jesus in putting the vulnerable first.
Is your neighbor sleeping on the streets while beds in homes and hotels are empty?
If you can only give a blanket to help against the cold, do it.
If you can offer shelter against the dangers of street life, do so.
Four years ago, early in the pandemic, during lockdown, scrolling through Facebook, I saw two pictures from Vegas placed side-by-side that have stuck with me:
In the first, people without homes slept using the lines in a parking lot empty of vehicles to maintain safe distances.
In the second, a nearby hotel had lit up the windows of dozens of empty rooms so that the shape of a heart was visible.
It is a moral failing of our communities that we force people to sleep in parking lots like boxes of holiday stuff kept in storage.
It is a moral failing of our communities that safe, affordable housing is not guaranteed.
To emphasize love of neighbor,
putting the needs and good of others above our wants, our privilege,
Jesus takes into his arms a child,
a person without the rights and responsibilities of a full citizen but still bound by the law,
a person many would say should be seen but not heard.
Children are without power over their lives, they are without prestige, wealth of their own, etc.
Yet Jesus says that if we welcome children,
if we welcome those without power, prestige, and wealth
in his name, as he welcomes,
then we welcome God who has sent him,
whose image we all bear,
the one who sends us.
In the church we tend to think of welcome as passive;
if someone shows up, they’ll be welcome. “Take a seat and join us for worship. Grab up a cup at coffee hour.”
But being welcoming, actually welcoming others, is active.
When we take into our arms- literally or metaphorically- those without power, prestige, and wealth,
when we welcome and take care of the poor, oppressed, and downtrodden among us as Jesus does,
we welcome God.
True Christian welcome is found in our faith active in love for our neighbor.
Go.
Follow and do like Jesus-
put the last first;
our own welfare is bound with our neighbors’.
Amen.