sermon – Page 13

Fear

October 20, 2024 By Vicar at Mount Olive

Our fear never excludes us from participating in God’s mission on earth. Jesus affirms this grace by saying “you will” to James and John when they, out of fear, make a seemingly power-hungry request.

Vicar Natalie Wussler
The Twenty-Second Sunday after Pentecost, Lect. 29 B
Texts: Isaiah 53:4-12; Psalm 91:9-16; Hebrews 5:1-10; Mark 10:[32-34] 35-45

Beloved in Christ, grace and peace to you in the name of the ☩ Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Here we go again… Jesus for a third time predicts his death and for a third time, the disciples somehow completely miss the point. And now, James and John make a seemingly power-hungry move and ask for places at Jesus’ right and left hand when he comes in glory. Haven’t they got the message yet? Has Jesus not embraced enough children or said “the last shall be first” enough times to let the disciples know they should uplift vulnerable people and be servants to everyone? I’ll admit it, this was my first reaction to this passage. But let’s take a more empathetic look at their position.

Because it’s easy to understand why James and John make this ill-timed request. They left all they’ve ever known to follow Jesus. They’ve listened to Jesus’ words as if their lives depended on it. They’ve seen Jesus heal the sick, cast out demons. And here Jesus is for a third time warning the disciples of his impending death and, this time, he brings the details. There is a who, a what, a where, and a how to Jesus’ death, and from what he’s saying, it will happen in just a few days when they enter Jerusalem. Jesus is their friend and a trusted teacher. James, John, and the disciples believe Jesus is the long-awaited Messiah. James and John focus on the glory they want Jesus to come into. Because remember, the followers of Jesus are still functioning under the idea that the Messiah will come to forcefully overturn the empires that oppress people. The Messiah is not supposed to be crucified at the hands of the empire. Think about the terror the disciples feel at the idea that Jesus would be killed by powers beyond their control. It’s no wonder why fear is creeping in. And when we frame the disciple’s reaction as a response to fear, it makes a little more sense. Perhaps James and John are trying to gain positions of prestige as a way to control one aspect of the impending chaos. Maybe they want to preserve whatever status they think they have, from being two of the three disciples who witnessed the Transfiguration. Perhaps they aren’t hearing Jesus’ prediction of his death because they worry the same fate awaits them. And so they seek security. And maybe the disciples grow angry with James and John because they wish they’d been able to gain control for themselves in the chaos they fear as well. Fear takes them over and distracts them from what really matters and the example Jesus is trying to set for them.

It’s not hard to understand where disciples are coming from, because we all fear in our own ways. Fear is one of those universal human experiences. It invades our minds and our hearts. Sometimes we fear that we’re not good enough or that we will fail. Sometimes our fear tells us that things will never get better. Sometimes we fear the state of this world and think we can do nothing to change it. And in the face of our fear, we can act like James and John and move toward self-preservation. To make sure that the “me” and the “mine” of it all is secure. Sometimes our fear keeps us from speaking truth at the risk of retaliation or saying something wrong. And sometimes our fear of doing the wrong thing causes us to do nothing at all. Our fear can lead us down a path of self-centeredness and isolation. Assumed safety, yes, but at the expense of our lives becoming smaller and more lonely. Instead of engaging in the abundant life of service where the last are first and we’re servants to all, we can retreat, hoard, and stay silent.

In response to James and John’s request, Jesus asks them if they’re able to drink from the cup Jesus will drink from and be baptized as he is baptized. Naively James and John affirm their ability and readiness to do so. Now, Jesus has said a lot of things when the disciples miss the point, and some of them are pretty harsh, but not here. “You will,” Jesus says. “You…will.” These two words are an invitation to continue on the path Jesus is setting for them. Even while they are acting out of their own fear and ignorance, they will drink the cup that Jesus drinks out of. Jesus tells James and John that they don’t know what they’re asking for, and I think that if they did know what they were signing up for, they might rethink their excited “we are able.” Because this cup that Jesus drinks from and the baptism Jesus is baptized with is no easy feat. It’s one of self-sacrifice, of dying and rising, of service to others. This cup and baptism is a path that leads to the cross. It’s a cup and baptism that elicits fear, even for God incarnate. In the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus himself will ask for this cup to be taken away from him. Luke’s gospel has Jesus sweating blood out of distress. Jesus felt fear in the face of this cup and this baptism, and yet, he walked it in love and in prayer.

And here’s the grace: not even our fear can exclude us from God’s mission on earth. Jesus was afraid, but it didn’t stop him. The disciples lived in fear all the way through Holy Week and abandoned Jesus after the last supper. But, there was grace for them. On Pentecost they were anointed with the Holy Spirit and started the movement of the church, and they lived in service to all people, walking in love and in prayer. Their fear did not exclude them. We, too, act in fear in a multitude of ways, and yet we are not excluded. God gives us grace too and assures us that we are still loved and still wanted. God still wants you on God’s team. Through all the ways you may believe you are disqualified, God still wants you and welcomes you to do God’s work in the world. You can live into God’s call, drink from the cup Jesus drank, and you can do it while you’re still scared. You will never be excluded from God’s mission on earth.

Walking in love and in prayer, you can follow the path Jesus walked first. The writer of Hebrews says this path was marked with weakness, tears, and love. It’s a path that makes abundant life accessible to all people and excludes no one from the love of God. It’s a path that might feel scary, but Jesus’ answer of “you will” to James and John tells us that we don’t have to be fully fearless. We don’t have to wait until we have no fear to follow Jesus’ path for us. And even in the face of our fear, Jesus says to us “You will.” You will be able to follow Jesus, even if you are scared.

I don’t think Jesus said anything to the disciples that day that made them less fearful. But this invitation and assurance Jesus gives them is a promise that they are included in God’s mission, with whatever baggage they may carry. This invitation and promise is for you, too. And as you walk this cross-shaped path, you’re likely to encounter fear. But in your daily drinking from the cup, in daily dying and rising with Christ, God transforms your fear into courage and affirms that you will be able to do the things that scare you–to say the hard truths, serve your neighbor, live authentically as your beloved self.

In the name of the ☩ Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

What Really Matters (Part 2)

October 13, 2024 By Pr. Joseph Crippen

All people are forever in God’s heart, and God needs to expand your heart to embrace that truth and live in it.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Twenty-first Sunday after Pentecost, Lect. 28 B
Text: Mark 10:17-31

Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

You are forever in God’s heart, and nothing can change that.

That’s where we ended last week, and it’s still your truth, your hope, your life. But today God’s Word asks you to understand that lots of people are forever in God’s heart. All people, in fact.

This man is. The heart of this story isn’t that he walked away grieving. It’s these words: “Jesus, looking at him, loved him.” Jesus loved him. Whatever led him to walk away, his core truth is that he is forever in God’s heart. Because this Gospel reading isn’t necessarily about what you think it’s about.

We get distracted in this reading by what’s not the central issue.

Jesus asks this man to sell everything he has and give it to the poor, and then follow. In doing that, Jesus says, he will know God’s eternal life, right then and there. Right now he’ll be living in God’s reign.

But the man walks away, Jesus says it’s really hard for wealthy people to live in God’s reign, and the shocked disciples quickly shift into virtue-signaling mode. We gave up a lot to follow you, didn’t we? We’re OK, aren’t we?

And we quickly move into anxiety, too. Surely Jesus isn’t asking all of us to sell all we have and give it away to the poor? How much is really required? Can we set a percentage? Everybody can’t sell everything – then all would be poor.

We’re missing the point. Entirely.

You see, Jesus needs this man to see beyond his own faith and life.

He’s a good guy. He wants to “inherit eternal life,” whatever he means by that. And when Jesus refers to living in the Commandments, because for Jesus eternal life can be lived here, the man says he’s followed them since he was a child. He’s a good guy.

And Jesus loves him. Holds him in God’s heart. But he also knows something’s missing. This man asks only about himself. How do I live in God’s reign? How do I inherit eternal life?

But Jesus wonders, how can you tolerate a world where you are blessed by God, while others God also loves struggle to live? How can you celebrate God’s deep love for you if others God also loves are poor? You can’t know God’s reign, God’s eternal life here, if that inequity exists, no matter how good you are. So he asks the young man to answer with his love – if he has it – that by selling everything.

Jesus’ call is to start with love, not with what you’re giving up.

Until I was in second grade we lived next door to Bev and Dale, marvelous people. Their son Michael was and still is my friend. Bev was a wonderful cook, did miracles in the kitchen, but for this first grader, the greatest miracle of all was her amazing apricot half-moon cookies. She knew I loved them, and one day she brought over a box of them, marked “for Joseph.” And I put them under my bed so only I could enjoy them. If you’d asked me to share, I’d have anxiously worried about how many I’d have to give away. This Gospel says Jesus would ask me if my love for my sisters was Ok with them being deprived of something I enjoyed. Well, I was a first grader. I’m pretty sure I was fine with that. That’s why they were under my bed.

When I was a recent college graduate one of my closest friends came out to me. At this point, I hadn’t done any homework on this, no theological reflection, no biblical work. I assumed the Bible was against it, in all ignorance. And I remember him saying that “hate the sin, love the sinner” wasn’t an option, because God made him this way, and our friendship couldn’t continue without that truth. I remain convinced that the Holy Spirit gave me a gift here, because I was not at all prepared for this, and I was kind of a judgy person. It was God who showed me that my love for my friend was the only thing that mattered. After that I knew I’d have to figure out my theology, especially if I was going to be a pastor, sort out the biblical stuff, let go of things I thought true. But God showed me my only real question was love.

Love is the central question of this Gospel reading. If you can live comfortably in God’s heart while others in God’s heart are suffering, that’s the problem. Then there’s no point in talking about how much to give up.

So our problem with wealth is only solved by starting with our love. Or lack of it.

Jesus consistently called us out for our need for money and security, our clinging to our possessions. Wealth gets in the way of our faithfulness, and Jesus speaks of it all the time. But Jesus’ deeper question is: can you tolerate a world where some of God’s beloved are suffering? Do you love them?

Once you know that your heart won’t allow that, then you look at what needs to change. It might be your ideas or decisions. It certainly might be your wealth, if Jesus has anything to say about it. What are you clinging to that prevents healing in this world or even is part of causing the pain and suffering? If God’s abundance is enough for all, and all do not have it, and that’s not acceptable to you, what does that mean for you? With how you give in this place to the ministry we share together, or how you free yourself from your ties to possessions and wealth in other ways?

If we start with Jesus’ love question, and answer it with love of our own, the details of every aspect of our lives in this world sort themselves out. Not because of some arbitrary formula but because that’s what your love leads you to.

I really hope this young man eventually came back.

We’ll never know. But Jesus loved him. Jesus loves you. And nothing can ever take that from you.

Now God needs to help you know in your heart that divine restlessness that isn’t satisfied with a world of suffering, so many people in need and in pain. God needs to grow your heart to include everyone who is already contained in God’s great heart. Because once you share God’s heart, what you need to do will become clear. What we need to do together will become clear.

Until everyone knows they are forever in God’s heart and nothing can change that.

In the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

What Really Matters

October 6, 2024 By Pr. Joseph Crippen

You are forever in God’s heart, no matter what. Trust that and live.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost, Lect. 27 B
Text: Mark 10:2-16

Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

Don’t fall into the trap Jesus’ opponents set.

They’re not interested in Jesus’ true heart on this question, so they don’t receive it.

Because there are three things you can absolutely trust about Jesus, the Son of God, from this Gospel reading and also from the heartbeat of Jesus’ teaching and ministry throughout the Gospels.

First, Jesus cares deeply, irrevocably, for vulnerable people.

Second, Jesus cares deeply, irrevocably, about loving relationships.

And third, Jesus never tramples on God’s children with rules, even with God’s law. Hear that clearly. Jesus, one with the Father and the Spirit in the Holy Trinity, demonstrates that even the Triune God will break their own divine law if it injures someone. Remember, this is a huge part of what got Jesus killed. It’s why they try to test him today. He’s developed a reputation for being inclined to set aside even the ten great commandments for the sake of healing and love.

Before digging into this, there’s a huge elephant we need to ask to leave the room.

This Gospel text is problematic for reading in public worship. Not because it addresses sin. Lots of Scripture does. But on the surface it seems to name a sin that only affects some people. A fundamental rule of preaching is that you don’t proclaim God’s call to new life or God’s naming of a sin for just some of the people in the room. If what I hear God saying in Scripture doesn’t apply to everyone, including me, it’s not fair preaching. You never want some to sit back as if this one’s for other folks.

So, let’s level the playing field. The hardest part of Jesus’ teaching today is the private conversation with the disciples afterward, where he ties divorce and remarriage to adultery, one of the Ten Commandments. Most faithful Christians I know who have divorced and remarried have struggled with this.

But remember what else Jesus said? In Matthew 5, Jesus affirmed the commandment against adultery and said if you’ve even thought about being unfaithful with someone, you’ve committed adultery.

There. Now we’re all in the same boat. Maybe one or two of you can’t remember ever entertaining the idea, but we’re likely all guilty of adultery according to Jesus.

So there’s only one thing to do: ask God’s forgiveness and trust in God’s grace. Like we always do. And hear me now: you are loved and forgiven, even of this sin.

So what’s Jesus really saying about divorce here?

He’s right, his opponents already know God’s law. They just want to trap Jesus. And he angrily turns on them, saying divorce is permitted is because people are hardhearted. They don’t honor God’s creating of marriage. But there’s also deep injustice here. Men could get a certificate of divorce and kick their wives out of the house. Wives had no such power.

Now remember our third truth, Jesus’ reputation for not letting even God’s law trample on people. And also our first truth: Jesus cares deeply about vulnerable people. Divorce is one of the most vulnerable situations anyone can get involved in. But in those times, women would be destitute in such a situation, having no way to enter the economy and provide for themselves.

The opponents want Jesus to issue a once-and-for-all ruling, but Jesus refuses to reduce real human lives to one-size-fits-all answers that hurt people. Jesus, God-with-us, offered forgiveness and welcome to a woman caught in adultery, turning his judgment and critique on those men who sought to execute her. Every time Jesus is tested this way he gives an answer that can’t be pinned down as a forever command. Even if the Church too often tries to.

So if you really care about what Jesus thinks, here’s what’s true, based on everything Jesus taught and lived.

If you’re divorced, you are forever in God’s heart. It doesn’t matter to Jesus what the circumstances were. But still: If your marriage fell apart for complicated or simple reasons, you are forever in God’s heart. If you were abandoned in a marriage, you are forever in God’s heart. If you did the abandoning, you are forever in God’s heart. If you were so badly harmed in a marriage you had to leave, you are forever in God’s heart. If you were the abuser, you are forever in God’s heart. If you ended your marriage because of a truth about your identity that you had not known or had pushed down, you are forever in God’s heart. And if your spouse came out and that ended your marriage, you are forever in God’s heart. And if you’re in a marriage that is life-giving, or if you’re in a marriage that’s painful and you don’t know what to do, you are forever in God’s heart. And if you know the pain of loneliness, whether it’s because your beloved spouse died or you do not have a spouse, you are forever in God’s heart.

Do you see? Nothing can stop God’s love for you in Christ. And if you wonder about the sin, Jesus’ answer to you is what he says to the woman: You are forgiven, go and sin no more. Because in all things, you are forever in God’s heart.

This is all about Jesus’ deep love and care for vulnerable people.

That’s why he keeps breaking another of the Ten Commandments, the Sabbath commandment, for the sake of healing, or grace, or hunger. And that’s why, for the third week in a row, Jesus lifts up children. These children were so precious and beloved to their parents, as all children should be, that they want Jesus to touch and bless them. And the disciples tell them to go away.

Jesus is indignant. He’s already told them to welcome children as Christ, he’s warned them not to cause little ones who trust in him to sin. They still don’t get it.

But today it’s the very nature of children he wants them to grasp. Children are dependent. Children are vulnerable. Children lack agency, the ability to shape their world in a way that helps them. Children don’t have control of their lives. Children can only trust that someone will care for them.

That’s what it’s like to live in God’s reign, Jesus says. You put all your dependence on God, you risk yourself in vulnerable love all the time, you give up a sense that you can control or shape your world to your benefit. And you trust.

And that’s where this Gospel reading ends for you.

With an invitation to you to let Jesus, God-with-us, pick you up in his arms, embrace you in love, and bless you. Not because you’re perfect and never have sinned. Not because you’ve made yourself into something God might consider worthy. Not because you control God’s love for you.

But simply because the Triune God loves you fully and wholly as you are. Forgives you all your failings because you are beloved. Gives the law not to crush you but to guide you to a way of life that’s fulfilling and life-giving.

God knows how vulnerable you are in this frightening world, and God will always be looking out for you. Breaking rules if necessary. Hoping that you have loving relationships in your life that can sustain and bless you. Because, dear one, you are forever in God’s heart, and nothing can change that.

In the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

A Share of the Spirit

September 29, 2024 By Pr. Joseph Crippen

You, and everyone, are not alone in your faith journey or service to the world as Christ: you have a share of the Spirit to encourage, empower, and help you.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost, Lect. 26 B
Texts: Numbers 11:4-6, 10-16, 24-29; Mark 9:38-50

Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

Moses finally cracked under the pressure.

Leading thousands of people through a wilderness, being the focus of all their complaints and expectations, doing a job he didn’t want but God called him to do, all came to a head in today’s reading. The latest complaint is they want meat along with the manna, and Egypt sounds pretty good to them.

And Moses loses it. He accuses God of treating him badly, abandoning him to the burden of these people that Moses didn’t give birth to or decide to drag through a wilderness. Moses says that if God loves him at all, God should just kill him.

And immediately God tells Moses to gather up 70 trusted elders of the people so God can take some of the Spirit on Moses and give a share of God’s Spirit to each one. It’s such an immediate, easy answer, it feels as if God is asking Moses, “who told you that you had to do this all alone?” After all, when Moses protested he was a horrible speaker, God told him to bring Aaron. Here, the second Moses asks for help, God offers it.

“Who told you that you had to do this all alone?” That’s a good question for you and me to ponder.

Like Moses, these days sometimes push us to the brink.

As the election nears, as hateful rhetoric increases, as panicked poll-watching raises anxiety, we can despair. “What on earth can I do?” On top of the election, all the other problems are still there: oppression, racism, sexism, hunger, war, violence and systemic pressure against the weak and vulnerable.

I sometimes think like Moses – these are your children, God! What am I supposed to do about this?

But today God asks, “Who told you that you had to do this all alone?” And look, today Jesus promises that what the 70 got, you and I also get: a share of the Spirit. Jesus promises the women and men following him that they – actually that everyone – will be salted with fire. It’s a mixed metaphor, but he’s referring to Pentecost. The Spirit of God will pour into people and make them salt, seasoning. You get a share of the Spirit, and so do all, so that you, and I, and all, can be salt for the world, bringing the flavor and joy of God’s healing and hope to all. And no one said you had to do this all alone. We’re all helping in this together, all with a share of the Spirit, with millions around the world.

But there is another layer to this gift. To see it, we first have to deal with Jesus’ odd metaphors.

The other layer is your faith life, how you walk Christ’s cross-shaped path.

But Jesus uses challenging metaphors to describe it.

First, he talks about removing things from your life that cause you to sin, to abandon your path of Christ. But he uses a particularly gruesome image, the removal of body parts that get you into trouble. And he does it three times, deepening our discomfort.

Second, he says the path of Christ leads to life, and sin that takes you off that path leads to the valley of Gehenna. This is a ravine outside Jerusalem that was basically the stinking garbage dump of the city. Fires were constantly burning in it. So following Jesus leads to real life, while sinning, breaking away from Jesus, is throwing your life away into a garbage dump that’s always burning. Again, a particularly ugly metaphor.

But remember the end of this teaching: “everyone will be salted by fire.” Now fire isn’t punishment but purification. So the fire of Pentecost is good news: the share of the Spirit you receive will burn away those parts of you that lead you to sin – maybe a more helpful metaphor than dismemberment. And now, hear God’s question again.

This time it’s: “who told you that you had to do your discipleship all alone?”

Sometimes even more strongly than thinking about our life in the world we think our faith journey is all on us. Our failings, our lack of vision, the challenges we deal with, our falling back when we thought we were moving forward, all is our problem to solve.

But who told you that you had to be a disciple all on your own? Jesus asks. I give you a share of my Spirit so that you are never alone. God’s Spirit not only burns away the parts that lead you astray, God’s Spirit empowers you, encourages you, fills you with hope. You are transformed into Christ, and you have God’s Spirit to pray to for help, to lean on for strength. You’re not expected to be faithful all by yourself. You have God’s Spirit.

But there is a warning in both these stories today that we need to hear.

Joshua is enraged at Eldad and Medad and wants Moses to shut them down. They were among the 70 on the authorized list of elders, but they didn’t gather at the tent of meeting. And the Spirit filled them, anyway. This can’t be tolerated, Joshua says. But Moses is so thrilled to have other Spirit-filled people to help, he tells Joshua he wishes that everyone would be so filled. Everyone.

And then this strange person somehow is casting out demons in Jesus’ name. John wants this shut down, since he’s not one of them. But Jesus says that anyone who does good in his name is on their side, even if he’s not part of the group. The only way the demons would be cast out is if the Spirit is with this stranger, so Jesus is fine with it, like Moses.

So here’s today’s warning: having a share of God’s Spirit doesn’t give you the authority to try and control who else gets that Spirit or to shut people out. Remember, our last view of Jesus in last week’s Gospel was with a child in his lap, urging that she be welcomed as Christ. No time elapses between these verses, so Jesus still has little Esther in his lap as he warns against shutting people out or causing little ones who trust in him to sin. That’s what’s at stake for Jesus: every child of God. It’s what’s at stake for you and me, too.

No one says you have to do your faith life on your own. No one says you have to heal the world on your own.

That’s your good news. And mine. So you can embrace the hope of Moses and the confidence of Jesus, that the Spirit getting out to everyone is always going to be a gift and blessing, and rejoice.

Because if Moses’ dream becomes reality, that everyone receives this share of the Spirit, can you imagine what this world would become? If Jesus’ promise that all will be salted with the Spirit’s fire becomes reality, can you imagine the spicy joy of the whole creation? All that God dreams for God’s children and the whole creation could come about through you, and me, and, well, Moses hopes, through everyone.

And wouldn’t that be a wonder to see?

In the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

September 22, 2024 By Vicar at Mount Olive

While the culture of the world moves us to crave more, Jesus says “the first shall be last.” This word encourages us to go to the margins of society and live a life of service to others.

Vicar Natalie Wussler
The Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost, Lect. 25 B
Texts: Jeremiah 11:18-20, Psalm 54; James 3:13-4:3, 7-8a; Mark 9:30-37

Beloved in Christ, grace and peace to you in the name of the ☩ Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

It’s the water we swim in, woven into the fabric of our society. More. This insatiable desire for more. We can see it everywhere we go. More money, more power, more status, more stuff. More. We’re caught by a selfish kind of ambition with never-ending cravings, forcing us into a rat race to the best places in society, not settling until we reach the top, and all the while looking over to see if what we have measures up to what our peers have. We have unlimited access to all the ways we can be more or become enough right at our fingertips! And it’s exhausting. Looking around, it seems like our culture is governed by the philosophy of “more”. James sensed this in his 1st century church. James observed his people ascribing to a self-centered earthly wisdom that fosters selfish ambition and envy. A quote, unquote “conventional” wisdom causing his people to look around at others and covet what they did not have.

And what was the fruit of this selfish ambition and envy? James says, disorder and wickedness of all kinds. Conflicts and disputes between people. Does this sound familiar to anyone else? What James talks about feels eerily similar to the conditions of our current society that run us all ragged in pursuit of more. Now this is not some tirade about ambition in our earthly existence. James makes an important distinction here. Selfish ambition that leads to envy is what we should flee from. An ambition that takes our eyes off of God and those around us and centers squarely on the self. This ambition hoards in pursuit of more, it does not share. This ambition envies the success of others. It’s a systemic, competitive struggle that leads to disputes that break down communities. It makes no space for those who can’t keep up in the race. This race to the top distracts people, leading some to say “pull yourself up by the bootstraps” to those who have no boots. Selfish ambition ultimately lets vulnerable people of all kinds fall through the cracks, leading some to feel like lambs led to the slaughter, like an uprooted tree cut off from the land of living, like someone who has been forgotten completely, Jeremiah says. This is what happens when the pressures of this cutthroat culture move us to crave more.

The disciples seem to get caught up in this same self-centered culture of “more”. While Jesus is trying to explain to women and men following him for the second time that he will be like a lamb to the slaughter, the disciples are confused and in fear, they don’t ask any clarifying questions. Maybe it’s because they don’t want to look stupid in front of each other and potentially lose their imagined superiority among the group. Or maybe it’s because the last time someone made a comment about Jesus’ death prediction, that person (Peter) was called Satan, and that would be super embarrassing, right? We’ll never know what caused their silence. But their fear to ask Jesus for whatever reason was greater than their desire to draw close to him. Their confusion soon turns into competition.

They fall into selfish ambition and begin to dispute who among them is greatest. And in their squabbling, they once again miss the point and their hearts are hardened toward the reality of Jesus’ prediction. Their useless pursuit of more not only creates interpersonal strife, but it distorts their understanding of God’s mission on earth. This is what can happen to us when we follow the world’s conventional wisdom–we, like the disciples, can miss what is truly important about a life following Jesus. We can become too caught up in our own accolades instead of drawing closer to God and to each other.

And Jesus, knowing all along what the disciples are quarreling about responds: “Anyone who wants to be first must be the very last, and the servant of all.” This is a radical word, both in Jesus’ time and now. It’s hard to imagine a world where the first are last when the world we know is built on the power of a few so-called “firsts.” Jesus flips the world’s hierarchies around and prioritizes those considered “last.” And as an illustration, Jesus embraces a child and calls the disciples to do likewise. Welcoming children wholeheartedly, in this time, gained you nothing, as the Romans believed the only value children carried was that one day they would be adults. This isn’t just a cute message about embracing children. Jesus is asking the disciples to welcome those who will gain you no earthly notoriety, no medals of honor, no promotions. But will mean everything in heaven. Jesus is directing his disciples to stoop to the lowest places and serve all. That’s our call today.

It’s a path we do not take alone. Jesus, himself, took this path. We worship a God who was willing to be last of all and servant of all, a God who stoops down to us. Jesus spent his ministry in the low places with the sick, the grieving, the prostitutes, the tax collectors; those relegated to the low places in Roman society. Jesus stooped low to wash the disciples feet, a job typically only for the last, the forgotten people. And his message? “I have given you my example, do as I have done for you.” This is where God’s love is realized, serving in the low places.

And that’s our invitation. Jesus invites us to follow his example: get off of the earthly ladder to success and serve. To make ourselves low so that all be served and experience God’s love made manifest for them, whether they be poor, sick, houseless, grieving, abandoned, or forgotten. We can take our focus off of our endless pursuit of “more” and onto the needs of those who society puts down. In setting aside our earthly honors, we can dwell in a community where the lasts are firsts and the vulnerable are embraced. When you welcome these people wholeheartedly, Jesus says, you are welcoming the very presence of the Triune God. And as we bring ourselves low, God reminds us that we are beloved without anything we’ve gained in this life. That our value is not in our accomplishments, but instead in our identity as children of the Living God. As we are made last we gain everything. More community with less strife. More confidence in our enoughness in the face of God. More. This is the good fruit of the heavenly wisdom that James talks about.

When we stoop to the places where our earthly titles and possessions carry little value, we can look at each other not as competitors, but as siblings in Christ, the greatest servant of all. We can set our selfish ambition and envy aside, quit the rat race, rest, and sit at a table where all are welcome, served, and loved.

In the name of the ☩ Father, Son and Holy Spirit.