Reformation Sunday

 John 8:31-36

As often as the Revised Common Lectionary dips in and out of John’s gospel during its three-year cycle of readings, I had never noticed that we never hear chapters 7 and 8 except when we read this gospel on Reformation Sunday.

Just as we do when a lectionary reading skips verses, it’s good practice to ask, “Why?” when whole chapters are left out. One answer is that the chapters are challenging theologically. Another reason is probably that there’s not a central event – no miracles, or as John calls them, signs. And a third reason is that the dialog between the religious leaders and Jesus in these verses is highly charged and has been misused to stoke anti-Semitism.[i] The danger signs are there, and we stay away. But those difficulties are precisely why we should try to understand the text clearly.

A couple of years ago here at Ascension we hosted an author and speaker who taught about Jewish festivals or celebrations; maybe you remember that in Judaism, the festivals are centered around important times in Israel’s history. One of those festivals, Sukkot (soo kowt) or the Festival of Booths or Tabernacles, is the setting for today’s text. “[Sukkot] was one of three pilgrimage festivals that brought Jews from all regions of Palestine to Jerusalem and the temple.” A fall festival, it celebrated the end of the harvest and God’s provision. During the weeklong celebration, the Jewish people also recalled God’s protection in the wilderness wanderings after they fled from Egypt and slavery under the Pharoah.[ii]

So that’s the setting for this dialog between Jesus and his audience, where he tells them, “If you continue in my word, you are truly my disciples; 32 and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.” (8:31-32)

And that’s the backdrop against which they respond to him by saying, “We…have never been slaves to anyone. What do you mean by saying, ‘You will be made free?’” (8:33)

The people are there in Jerusalem, celebrating God’s deliverance of their ancestors from slavery but at the very same time, they deny that their ancestors have ever been slaves. And they reject the idea that they remain enslaved to sin even now.

A comparison can be made to a person living in active addiction. In the midst of active addiction, you may recognize other people who have drinking or drug problems, but you cannot see yourself as “one of those people.” Your habits aren’t as bad as theirs. It’s always preferable to notice and point out the faults of others and draw attention away from one’s own brokenness.[iii] In active addiction, you cannot see the destructive power that shapes your thoughts and controls your actions. You think you are managing your drinking or using.

And that’s why the very first step in a twelve-step recovery program is, “Admit you are powerless over your drug of choice- that your life has become unmanageable.”

When Jesus says, “everyone who commits sin is a slave to sin.” (8:34), he is calling us all to recognize our own powerlessness over sin, and our enslavement to it. “[We are] hardly free from sin; [we] are recovering sinners.[iv]

“We cannot through our own strength and understanding believe in the Lord, come to him, or serve him.”[v] Coming to God and serving God absolutely requires God’s action for us first.  

And that’s what Jesus promises here. God sees our sin and recognizes the ways we are enslaved even when we cannot. God rescues us and provides for us, just as God has done throughout the history of the people of God.

In Christ, we are set free, not only from sin but for relationship. In Christ, we become God’s children, and given a place in God’s household, and that place can never be taken away.

In God’s kingdom, there is a permanent place for you and for me.

And that is the Good News we celebrate this Reformation Sunday. Where human memory, egos and institutions may fail, God’s promise endures. God’s Holy Spirit is at work, redeeming us and our stories and awakening us to who we are as God’s people and the possibilities that God is creating in our midst.

Retired Bishop Leonard Bolick, who is now the acting executive director for the outdoor ministries in our ELCA region, recently shared an update about the ministries, and in it he named how difficult it can be to look at the past, to stand in the present, and to focus on the future.[vi] But that is what we are called to do: to know what God has done and is doing and to have confidence in what God will do, for us and for the world.

Let us pray…

Good and gracious God,

Thank you for seeing us clearly in our brokenness and forgiving us, even when we cannot see where we are hurting or the ways we hurt others.

Thank you for ever-forming and re-forming us as your people; for calling us to you and restoring us to be who you have created us to be.

And, thank you for giving us a place in your kingdom where you call us to participate in what you are doing in the world.

Help us to follow your Son, to listen to your Word, and be enlivened and sent forth by your Spirit.

Amen.

[i] Karoline M. Lewis. John (Fortress Biblical Preaching Commentaries) (p. 105). Fortress Press. Kindle Edition.

[ii] Lewis. 107.

[iii] Cynthia A. Jarvis; Elizabeth Johnson. Feasting on the Gospels--John, Volume 1: A Feasting on the Word Commentary. Westminster John Knox Press. Kindle Edition.

[iv] Jarvis.

[v] Rolf Jacobson. “Holy Spirit Reformation.” https://www.workingpreacher.org/dear-working-preacher/holy-spirit-reformation

[vi] The Reverend Leonard Bolick. https://vimeo.com/637231485

22nd Sunday after Pentecost

Mark 10:46-52

Throughout this gospel, we have witnessed healing stories, so today’s reading with its usual cast of characters — a person in need, a crowd, the disciples, and Jesus — might sound like it’s going to be the same familiar story but it isn’t. This story is one of the bookends for Mark’s central teaching about discipleship.

First, where we have seen people run to Jesus and bow before him (5:6, 7:25), fall at his feet (5:22) touch the hem of his robe (5:27), and even kneel before him (10:17), here, the man who wants to meet Jesus makes a scene. There’s nothing diminutive or self-deprecating about Bartimaeus. He isn’t going to leave it to chance that Jesus might notice him. When he hears Jesus is passing by, he shouts out and when people try to hush him, he just raises his volume even more.

In response, Jesus tells the people – we don’t know whether it’s his disciples or the crowd – to call him to Jesus. And hearing Jesus’ invitation, Bartimaeus springs up and throws off his cloak. The words are vibrant and full of life and expectation, forming a picture in your imagination when you hear them. Bartimaeus isn’t waiting on friends or family to intercede for him. He has heard the stories of what Jesus was doing and expects that meeting Jesus will change his life. He won’t need his old cloak to keep warm on the side of the road because he will have a new life.

The second thing that caught my attention is that when he meets him, Jesus asks Bartimeaus the very same question he asked James and John in last week’s gospel when the two had asked him to grant them whatever they asked. Jesus asks Bartimaeus, “What do you want me to do for you?”

But this time the answer isn’t about who will sit on his right or his left. Bartimaeus simply asks Jesus to let him see.

Do you remember where earlier in Mark 8, Jesus had asked the Pharisees, “Do you have eyes, and fail to see?” (8:18) Sight in Mark is more than a physical sense. Jesus wasn’t questioning their physical sight, but their ability to believe and know Jesus.

Mark is the only gospel writer to name the man in this story, and the man’s name would have meant something to his audience. Bar-Timaeus, literally the son of Timaeus, could mean a son, but it could be any descendant of the one called Timaeus.

The name may not be familiar to us, but after the Iliad and the Odyssey one of Plato’s more popular dialogues was the dialogue of Timaeus. The dialogue tells the story of the title character, a ruler in southern Italy, and in it, Timaeus speculates that philosophy comes from seeing.

So now the blind beggar who is a descendant of Timaeus has his sight restored by Jesus. The one who believes is now able to see clearly.

Jesus helps us to see who God is. And that gift of sight opens our eyes to the fullness of God’s kingdom.

And that brings us to the third way that this story won’t follow the familiar pattern of earlier encounters with Jesus.

This time, there’s no messianic secret-keeping. Jesus doesn’t tell Bartimaeus to go home and tell nobody what has happened, like he had when he healed the girl who he raised (5:42), the deaf man (7:36) and the man at Bethsaida (8:26). He knows he is on his way to Jerusalem; immediately after this, Jesus will enter Jerusalem in the triumphal entry that we celebrate on Palm Sunday.  

So here, Jesus tells Bartimaeus, “Go; your faith has made you well” or “your faith has saved you.” And Bartimaeus responds by following Jesus.

For me, this text raises three questions about discipleship around expectation, encounter and engagement:

First, do I have the vibrant hope and expectation that Jesus will change my life?

And second, when I encounter Jesus, what do I want him to do for me?

And third, how do I engage my faith and respond to his invitation and restoration?

Throughout this gospel we’ve seen the faltering discipleship of Jesus’ followers and now Mark introduces us to Bartimaeus and suggests there’s another way. You can see it as loud and intrusive or bold and expectant.

But Jesus invites each one of us to come to him and ask him for what we need. Maybe it is the closeness of a relationship with our Savior; maybe it is physical recovery or healing; or maybe it’s something else.

But having asked, then you can follow him, confident you have new life and everything is changed by knowing Jesus.

Thanks be to God.

21st Sunday after Pentecost

Mark 10:35-45

Have you ever gone out with friends and as y’all were headed to the car, someone shouted, “Shotgun!” They’re claiming their place, or even their ‘right’ to be in the front seat, where you can control the sound and the temperature and get a good view of the road ahead.

That’s what James and John do in today’s gospel. The gospel begins with them separating themselves from the other ten disciples, going to Jesus and asking to be seated on his right and his left, in places of honor and prestige. They called, “Shotgun!”

It’s clear James and John were so focused on themselves that they didn’t really listen to what Jesus had been saying. Because in the verses just before these, Jesus told all of the disciples:

the Son of Man will be handed over to the chief priests and the scribes, and they will condemn him to death; then they will hand him over to the Gentiles; ³⁴ they will mock him, and spit upon him, and flog him, and kill him; and after three days he will rise again." (Mark 10:33-34)

Jesus even has a hard time believing that if the two of them had been listening that they would have been so eager. And so Jesus says,

You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?" (Mark 10:38)

But the pair answer Jesus, insisting, “We are able.”

Maybe they did understand and were able. Or perhaps they believed they could do whatever it takes to be close to Jesus, even if they didn’t know what that would require. But just as likely, they were full of bravado and said “they were able” even though they weren’t at all.

Jesus doesn’t argue with them. He doesn’t rebuke them like he did Peter. Instead, like he did when the disciples were arguing about who is the greatest, he begins teaching again.

Jesus knows that sitting at his right or left hand does not bring power or prestige but suffering. On the cross, it will be a thief and bandit who are on his right and his left. (Matthew 27:38) His cousin John was beheaded, and other disciples will be martyrs for their faith.

The baptism with which Jesus is baptized is a baptism in the Holy Spirit that drove him into the wilderness where he was tempted by Satan (Mark 1:13) and the cup that he drinks is the same cup that he asks to be taken from him on the eve of his crucifixion. (Mark 14:36)

What Jesus promises is not power or prestige but relationship.

When we are baptized, we are baptized into life with Christ. We are forgiven and made new. We set aside our former lives and the things that draw us from God and we seek the things that God wants. We show Jesus to the world through our service, setting aside our egos and selfishness, turning away from ourselves and toward others. It is a relationship that requires sacrifice, not comfort.

Suffering is the cost of discipleship. Whether it is putting the needs of another before ours or voicing an unpopular opinion that aligns with Jesus but stands in contrast to the world and society or choosing service instead of security, Jesus calls us to be disciples.

It’s easy to pick on the disciples in Mark where they seem even more blundering and foolish than in the other gospels. And James and John do appear arrogant and childish asking Jesus if he will do whatever they ask and then asking for seats of honor. But part of our criticism may be stoked by the same feeling that provoked anger in the other disciples. Haven’t James and John just been foolish enough, or brave enough, to ask Jesus for what they really want?

Don’t we all want to know we belong with Jesus?

Thankfully, the assurance we have from Jesus is that we are baptized into a baptism like his. When we are baptized, we are named God’s own children and we receive everything that belongs to Jesus and He takes on all is ours in what is called a “sweet swap.”

We belong to God, and no one and nothing can separate us from God, not even our own childish and arrogant behaviors or questions. Martin Luther called the power of faith “a living, daring confidence in God’s grace, so sure and certain that a [person] would stake his life on it a thousand times....”^[i]

And so we do. We stake our lives on God’s love and acceptance, and we love others as we are loved. God doesn’t need us to do that, or anything else, in order that we may be saved. But because God loves us, we search out ways to show Jesus to our neighbors and world.

Let us pray…

Good and gracious God,

Thank you for your son Jesus coming into the world that we would know the depth and breadth of your love for us.

Thank you creating us for relationship and belonging and making a place for each one of us.

Give us courage to show your love to our neighbors and not be anxious about ourselves, but having daring confidence in your grace.

We pray in the name of Jesus, our Savior and Lord.

Amen.

---

[i] Martin Luther, Commentary on Romans, Translation J. Theodore Mueller (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1954), xvii.

20th Sunday after Pentecost

Mark 10:17-31 

Often wealth, possessions and financial security have been seen as signs of God’s blessing. Even in modernity, preachers of the “prosperity gospel” promise their followers that “God wants you to be happy. God wants you to be rich. God wants you to prosper.” But speaking to the young man in today’s gospel Jesus answers the question, “What does God want?” differently.

Don’t misunderstand me. God wants good for God’s people. That’s why we have the Law and commandments in the first place, so that we may know how to live in relationship with God and with each other.

But the commandments have never been mere checklists where we can tick off the boxes:

Do not murder. Easy.

Do not commit adultery. Safe.

Do not steal. Yep.

Do not bear false witness or defraud. Good.

Honor your father and mother. Done.

The Law and commandments are the foundation of living as God’s people but no one issues a report card showing how well we’ve kept them, and there’s no honor roll.

So we join the young man in asking, “What does God want?”

Jesus answers, “God wants you.” Not just your obedience to a list of rules and not just your worship for an hour on Sunday mornings, but your very self.

And in our gospel today, the young man judges that the cost of discipleship is too high and he leaves Jesus grieving.

Now, sometimes preachers try to guess what happened next. Mark doesn’t say anything more about the young man, so we don’t know.

Some disciples, like Simon and Andrew, heard the call to follow Jesus and “immediately they left their nets and followed him.” (Mark 1:18)

Other disciples are what one scholar calls ‘resident disciples.’ These are people like the sisters Martha and Mary and their brother Lazarus who know Jesus and call him “Teacher” but live in their own house in Bethany.

And still others are those Jesus has healed like the demoniac in Gerasene. After Jesus delivered the man from the demons, he told him, “Go home to your friends, and tell them how much the Lord has done for you, and what mercy he has shown you." (Mark 5:19 NRS).

And for others of us, it takes time to recognize God is calling us to follow, and even longer to respond to that call.

So, sure, it’s possible the young man returned after a day, a week or even a month, having done what Jesus asked. But it’s also possible that Jesus was right, and the young man’s wealth and possessions were too great an obstacle to overcome.

And this isn’t Jesus bashing the rich or calling his disciples to a life of self-denial or poverty, but it is Jesus leveling a criticism against those whose wealth and possessions, or desire for safety and security, distances them from God.

There are different ways to live as disciples, but no matter what when we say we want to follow Jesus, we are asked to give ourselves first and fully to God. We are not at a negotiating table. We cannot barter for a more comfortable discipleship.

In this season where you are being asked for a financial commitment to support the ministry of Ascension and we will be creating a budget to plan for our ministry expenses, it’s easy to look at the bills first and give God what’s left. But Jesus calls us to come and follow him, giving everything first to God, and trusting in God’s provision.

That’s not the answer we want to hear when we ask, “What does God want?”

We want, like the young man, for there to be a reasonable answer, not a sacrificial one. We want discipleship to be easy, not difficult. So, it’s no wonder that Mark says the other disciples were amazed and asked, “Who then can be saved?” It feels like God is asking for something impossible.

And they’re not wrong. On our own, it is impossible. We cannot by our own merit or understanding to follow God’s commandments and live faithfully in relationship with God.

As Saint Paul writes in Romans 7, “¹⁸ I can will what is right, but I cannot do it. ¹⁹ For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do.” (Rom. 7:18-19 NRS)

And seventeenth century Catholic Saint Vincent DePaul told his priests,

Believe me, we will never be any use in doing God’s work until we become thoroughly convinced that, of ourselves, we are better fitted to ruin everything than to make a success of it.[i]

It is recognizing how far we fall short that brings us to the cross where we find Jesus, grace and love. We cannot do anything apart from God, but God can make all things possible.

The hard answer to, “What does God want?” is that God wants you, and me, from our hands and feet to our innermost thoughts. God wants us to surrender ourselves to God, to let go of our desire to control and preserve and direct and follow God. And then, maybe then, we will see what really is possible.

Let us pray…

Good and gracious God,

Thank you for your Son Jesus who shows the world how much you want us to live in relationship with you.

When being his disciples seems to come at an impossible cost, assure us of the mighty ways you have already beaten the odds.

Give us wisdom and courage to surrender everything we hold onto and follow you, trusting first in You.

We pray in the name of your Son, our Lord and Savior, Jesus the Christ.

---

[i] Jean-Baptiste Chautard. Soul of the Apostolate.

19th Sunday after Pentecost

Psalm 8; Mark 10:2-16 

I almost didn’t read this gospel text this morning. It’s a text that has been used to shame people who have been divorced. It’s been used to persuade people to remain in harm-filled relationships so they will not violate the sanctity of marriage. But I read it because I think the assigned texts of the lectionary ask us to look at texts we don’t like and ask why we have them and what God is saying to us through them.

My colleague Pastor Shimota, who’s been divorced, encouraged us as preachers to remember that the people who

“are heading toward divorce, in court about divorce, managing custody in court, learning a new and painful normal after the court appearances are over, missing their children, or figuring out the financial consequences of divorce…are exhausted and grieving. They may feel ashamed. They are definitely disappointed.

 

But they are not confused about how much better it would be to live the lifelong faithful relationship they promised the day they walked down the aisle. They wanted that. And it died.”

So as with any other death, we don’t pretend it hasn’t happened. We don’t avoid speaking about it. And we don’t blame the people who are living with its repercussions.

What Jesus says in this text is that we are created for relationship and partnership and Jesus asks us not to destroy the unity we’ve been given.

And as Pastor Shimota told us,

“He’s not wrong, and if we were perfect, we would obey and live abundantly. And in our imperfection, we try to obey. But we aren’t perfect. And we do destroy the unity we have been given.

 

And as he does with every grieving, exhausted, shocked and disappointed one of his children, Jesus takes divorced parents and their children in his arms, lays hands on them and blesses them.”[i]

And I think that’s good news for us all – for every one of us who is grieving, exhausted, shocked or disappointed for any reason.

Don’t we all want to be held in the hands of God and blessed? Don’t we all want the assurance of God’s love for us?

At the center of Psalm 8 the psalmist asks God,

“What are human beings that you are mindful of them, mortals that you care for them?”

It’s a question most of us have probably asked God at some point:

“Who am I that You care for me?”

We witness the handiwork in all creation – star gazing, searching out waterfalls or catching a glimpse of a rainbow; in the fingers of a newborn, or the wisdom stories of an elder.  And often, when we come face to face with the glory and majesty of what God created, we feel small, like we’ll be swallowed up by the strength and power of the world that surrounds us. [ii]

But we won’t.

We are not here by mere chance. God desired to make us in God’s image and created us to be in relationship with God. We are wholly desired by God just as we are.

And not only that, but God now entrusts us with the responsibility to care for the rest of creation.

The psalmist says we have been given “dominion over the works of your hands.” But “dominion” isn’t power for its own sake. It isn’t physical might that can intimidate and coerce. Instead, God calls us to take responsibility to care for the rest of creation. The challenge is to bear the responsibility with humility. To recognize that we are not God, but every day we are entrusted with what is dear to God’s heart.[iii]

We know what failure looks like. From Adam to Saul to Judas, there have been any number of leaders who turned away from God’s will out of selfishness and conceit. Even David, to whom so many of the psalms are attributed, was flawed.

But, God never loses sight of us, and when we fall down, God pick us up again, holds us and blesses us.

Trusting God’s own intention for us, and for all creation, may we watch for the ways God entrusts the care of others to us, and strive to bring good news to the people we meet.

Let us pray…

Good and gracious God,

Thank you for creating us and loving us wholly as we are.

Thank you for entrusting us with the care for all you hold dear and forgiving us when we fail, for your abundant mercy when we fall down.

Guide us by your Holy Spirit and give us a wisdom and understanding of the care you ask us to provide.

We pray in the name of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

Amen.

---

[i] The Rev. Jennifer Shimota. Used with permission.

[ii] Shauna Hannan. “Commentary on Psalm 8". Luther Seminary. workingpreacher.org

[iii] Nancy deClaissé-Walford. “Commentary on Psalm 8". Luther Seminary. workingpreacher.org

18th Sunday after Pentecost

Mark 9:38-50

There’s a saying that, “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

But in today’s gospel Jesus casts doubt on the old adage. Instead, he points out that the road to hell is filled with stumbling blocks: those things that we put in the way of others, and in our own way, that keep us from experiencing God’s presence, love, mercy, or the outpouring of the Holy Spirit.

He tells the disciples, it’s better to drown than cause someone else to stumble, and that it’s better to cut off our own hands and legs and gouge out our eyes than allow ourselves to stumble.

The language is violent and graphic and it makes me uncomfortable. His words sound really harsh, and I prefer listening to Jesus talk about how much we are loved.

But his words are rooted in love. Jesus is speaking to his very own disciples, people who have been traveling with him and learning from him, and he is trying to get their attention, again, because they still seem more concerned about who gets the credit for the good works that are happening in Jesus’ name, than about whose lives are being transformed.

But the other reason I’m uncomfortable is all the talk about being thrown into hell.

In the gospel, Jesus is talking about a real place that you can find on a map: Gehenna. Its name comes from the Hebrew for the Valley of Hinnom and it was a place where atrocities including child sacrifice had taken place as far back as 7^th century BCE. In the first century CE it had become perpetually burning garbage dump outside Jerusalem’s city walls.

I believe in hell, less as a physical place or dimension, but I believe that hell is what we experience in our lives when we are separated from Divine Love. I believe that hell is what we create when we live apart from God’s will for us in our relationships with God, with our neighbors, and with the world. I also like what 19^th century Carmelite nun St. Therese of Lisieux once said; when she was asked, she answered that she believed in hell, but because of God's great mercy, she believed that it was empty.

Whatever you believe about hell, in Lutheranism, we recognize and name the destructive power of sin, death, and the devil in our lives and we appeal to God for strength and help to denounce the evil we encounter and confront the powers and principalities that contradict the Gospel.

And these are the things that Jesus wants us to pay attention to. Instead of worrying about what others are doing or saying, let’s examine ourselves and our own attitudes and behaviors, and let’s be attentive to the ways we influence others and affect their faith and lives.

In our lives we bear witness to the gospel – to the Good News of Jesus Christ, and the ways we show Jesus to the world matters. So what are the stumbling blocks we put in the way of others? And what are the ones we create to keep us from experiencing God’s presence, love, mercy, or the outpouring of the Holy Spirit?

Like the disciples, and as human beings, we tend toward exclusion. We silence people because they are different from us. Because they are women, or we don’t understand their accent, or they are old or young, or they didn’t grow up in the South and we don’t know who their daddy is. Or sometimes, because we do know who their daddy is, and we don’t like him. We watch whether people grew up on the right, or the wrong, side of the tracks and we think if we know one thing about someone, it tells us all we need to know.

It’s human nature. People are messy and it feels much safer to draw lines and stay in neat and tidy boxes, with people who are like us. But the problem is that every time we draw lines in the sand, we will find Jesus on the other side. Every time we create insiders and outsiders, guess where Jesus is? With the outsiders. With those who don’t have status. With those who don’t have power.

Jesus tells the disciples,

“Whoever is not against us is for us.” (9:40)

Even the person who thinks differently than I do about hell.

And the driver of the car whose bumper stickers I don’t like.

And the woman who on the court square holding her posterboard sign that says “Jesus loves you.”

So who is the person you want to dismiss or box out?

Jesus is here to say that God’s abundant love, mercy and power cannot be categorized or rationed. God is boundless. And when we start paying attention to how our lives reflect that Divine love and presence, we will be showing Jesus to the world.

Let us pray…

Good and gracious God,

Thank you for your Son Jesus who shows us again and again how much you love the whole world.

Help us pay attention to the ways we show your love and mercy to our families, neighbors and community.

Make us instruments of your peace where there is division, remembering that we are to bring Good News to the everyone we meet.

We pray in the name of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

Amen.

17th Sunday after Pentecost

Mark 9:30-37

Every couple of years a new gospel comes out. The Bible has four – Matthew, Mark, Luke and John – but a variety of others have made their way onto bookshelves. You can read the Gospel according to the Peanuts or Dr. Seuss, Starbucks or Star Wars. The best of these illuminate how theology – the ways we talk about and understand God –manifests in pop culture.

Reading today’s gospel in Mark I recalled a song by Kenny Rogers called “The Greatest”. Maybe you know it. It tells the story of boy playing backyard baseball. He throws every pitch and swings at every ball. Every time the boy gets ready pitch, he tells himself, “I am the greatest player of them all” and every time he misses. But at the end of the song, after the third strike, he says, “I am the greatest that is a fact/ But even I didn't know I could pitch like that.”

While most of us hear the story of a boy striking out, the way Kenny tells it, the boy pitched a perfect inning - 3 up, 3 down – or maybe even a no hitter. Who is the greatest depends a lot on who’s defining what it means to be the greatest.

In the gospel reading, Jesus and his disciples are on the road and, teaching them, Jesus tells them a second time that he will be betrayed and killed, and he will be resurrected.

Mark tells us the disciples didn’t understand – they couldn’t understand – what Jesus was saying. A suffering Messiah was such a contrast to the images of Messiah that they had learned. Instead of a Messiah who would be victorious over their enemies, Jesus told them that he would die in the hands of his enemies.

And Mark says they were afraid to ask Jesus what he meant. They weren’t afraid of their teacher, but his words frightened them. His truth-telling threatened their sense of security and safety, their ability to protect themselves against the world, and against death. It exposed their fears and vulnerabilities.

Afraid to reveal their own lack of understanding, afraid they were the only ones who didn’t get it, afraid of being left out, the disciples started bickering, arguing about who among them was the greatest.

Like the disciples, we are afraid of what we don’t know. We are afraid of uncertainty and afraid of silence and rush to fill it with words, even when those words are arguments.

And watching the disciples, I wonder how many of us would confess to Jesus what things we argue about? In worship we remember that Jesus came into the world to love each one of us and to forgive us that we might all be restored to relationship with God. But when we leave our worship spaces we bicker and argue about who’s right or wrong and which decisions are faithful or unfaithful.

The gospel reminds us that even though the disciples didn’t answer him when he asked what they had argued about, Jesus knew.

Jesus knows how easily we are distracted from the gospel and yet, he doesn’t scold us or punish us.

Instead, he continues teaching, saying,

“Whoever wants to be first must be last and servant of all.”

Jesus reminds us to pay attention to what matters. And like Kenny, he reminds us that being the greatest might look different from what we expect.

Being the greatest isn’t going to look like awards or prizes, accolades or promotions. Instead, it’s going to look like helping when no one notices. It’s going to look like making space for those who do not have any status. It’s going to look like loving the person who isn’t useful or beneficial to you.

Because the God we come to know in Jesus is not a transactional God. This God is the One who sent Jesus to love every one of us and wants us to love everybody we meet.

This is the Way of Jesus Christ that we follow. It doesn’t follow the rules of the world we live in. It is a way of suffering and rejection, and when we follow Jesus, we must know that we cannot insulate ourselves from it or hide within the safety of our church sanctuaries. Wherever we find ourselves, we are called to welcome the least and be servants to them.

 Let us pray…

Good and gracious God,

we give thanks that you know our hearts and minds and love us still.

Thank you for your grace and mercy when we are afraid and lack understanding.

Thank you for your Son Jesus coming into the world that all may know your abundant love.

Show us how to be servants and to show love for every person in our words and our actions.

We pray in Jesus’ name.

Amen.