Cross Grace Lutheran Church
Yorktown Heights, NY
Sermons of Rev. Timothy J. Kennedy

Pastor Spelling It Out
Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost
Mark 9:30-37

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Jesus and the twelve went on from there and passed through Galilee. He did not want anyone to know it; for he was teaching his disciples, saying to them, "The Son of Man is to be betrayed into human hands, and they will kill him, and three days after being killed, he will rise again." But they did not understand what he was saying and were afraid to ask him. Then they came to Capernaum; and when he was in the house he asked them, "What were you arguing about on the way?" But they were silent, for on the way they had argued with one another who was the greatest. He sat down, called the twelve, and said to them, "Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all." Then he took a little child and put it among them; and taking it in his arms, he said to them, "Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me."


I had breakfast with my sister last week, and we talked about the different view we have of family life growing up. Our parents did what many parents do when children are young: if you want to say something in front of the kids that you don't want them to understand, you spell it out. "Lester, it's time to put the kids to B-E-D and dress up like S-A-N-T-A." Or, "Marge, be prepared at the table tonight. You know how the kids hate B-R-O-C-O-L-I." Stuff like that. But kids are smart and it doesn't take them too long to figure out that when you say B-E-D and five minutes later they're under the covers that B-E-D spells "lights out," or something close to that. Admittedly I wasn't all that smart ... but I knew my father couldn't spell "broccoli" for beans.

Up until recently, the Metropolitan Synod of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America gave an award to a worthy recipient at the Synod Assembly. It is nice to be recognized for a job well done. Everyone needs a "thank you" now and again. But the plaque our Synod handed out was called "The Distinguished Disciple Award." I'd like to think that the person who received it each year was truly surprised, even stunned. For when you begin to think that you're in line for an award for distinguished discipleship, your discipleship becomes tainted. In other words, a disciple does not keep his "eyes on the prize." A disciple keeps her eyes on the Lord.

There were twelve sets of eyes on the Lord in our Gospel text, as the disciples were walking south toward Capernaum. I picture Jesus in the lead and the rest lagging oh, about thirty or forty yards behind - out of earshot. Jesus told them once more that he was going to be put to death and rise again ... and once more they didn't understand what he was saying. Or maybe they didn't want to understand. Mark Twain wrote, "It's not the words of the Bible I don't understand that bothers me - it's what I do understand."

Well Mark Twain would certainly understand the disciples lagging back - purposely so - because they did not want Jesus to overhear them. The reason is, they were vying for the "Distinguished Disciple Award"! Now they probably started off talking softly about such things as which one of them was the best fisherman and who could recite all 613 Laws of Scripture and ... and their voices got just a little louder because after all, they had to sell themselves and to sell yourself you've got to make sure others hear and pretty soon they're like Crazy Eddie on one of those old TV commercials, waving their arms and spouting off, "I'm not just a good fisherman; not just the best fisherman this side of the Euphrates! I'm the greatest! That's what they were arguing about, these disciples, who's the greatest? They were maybe thirty or forty yards behind the Lord; they were light-years behind in understanding.

Well, they arrive in Capernaum and go to somebody's house - probably Peter's because that's where he's from - and they take off their sandals and begin to unwind. No doubt the disciples were weary. This "I'm #1" stuff is tiring business because you've always got to defend yourself from some upstart #2. And Jesus casually asks, "By the way, what were you fellows talking about back there on the road?" And Mark reports that "they were silent." About time. No doubt embarrassed, too. For they realized that Jesus had overheard them. He did not spell it out, but they knew he knew.

How different these men were from the leaders of the early church, so many of whom willingly gave their very lives for the sake of the Gospel. A person like Peter, the Bishop of Rome - who did so much to spread the Gospel - and died upside down on a cross for the sake of his Lord. Or, a person like James, the leader of the Jerusalem church, who was executed for his faith. And his brother John, not executed, but exiled. Andrew who ended up preaching the Gospel in far off Scotland - he too, literally gave his life to the Lord. Think of these great men of faith, compare them to the twelve disciples arguing over whose the greatest. The big fellow in the group, Peter. And the Zebedee brothers, James and John, and then Peter's older brother, Andrew. Wait a minute. Are these names mere coincidence ... or are the heroic figures of the early Church the same selfish, self-centered men of our text?

Well, of course we know the answer. They are the same men. Wait, no! They are not the same. They are different: changed forever by the recognition that they had been died for! It's the difference of BC and AC: Before Cross, and After Cross. I hate ending a sentence with a preposition, and not only because there may be an English teacher or two in the congregation. And I've already shared my father couldn't spell broccoli for beans. That being said, there's no clearer way to spell it out: the disciples of Jesus were profoundly changed - by the recognition: they had been died for.

There's something very refreshing about the honesty of the Gospel writers who paint the disciples as they were - not larger-than-life men with their halos in place, but everyday people with their slips showing: their slips-of-the-tongue; their slips of courage; their slips of faith. And when they were finally able to say it of Jesus, "He's #1," it was then they became great in their diakonia, in their serving. That's what a deacon is - one who serves. The disciples found greatness by caring for others.

We call them "saints," today - these disciples. but they were only human. They were just you and me - on our best days; you and me at our worst. But more important than saints, they were servants. And they found salvation - neither by their sainting, nor by their serving - they were saved by the Christ of the Cross.

The road to Capernaum, the way of discipleship, is a lengthy one. As one writer reflects (Kate Huey), "much is expected of us, and we too would rather think and talk about our reward than the price.... We might not consciously think about aspiring to greatness, let alone claim it openly, but aren't we more caught up with the life styles of the rich and famous, than concerned with the plight of the anonymous poor? It's human nature - but a nature that Jesus calls us to rise above!

In God's upside-down scheme of things, disciples, followers of Jesus will be first in caring, #1 in diakonia - in serving. Jesus himself puts it this way: "Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all." So that's what it is to be a Christian. Doing God's work with our hands. Jesus couldn't spell it out any more clearly: "Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all."