Sunday, Oct. 22 - 20th Sunday after Pentecost
It’s embarrassing now to admit it. I wish I could get myself not to tell you just how much I have resembled James and John in my life. I mean, how many of you would want to admit that you have said to Jesus, Lord, I want you to do for me whatever I ask? It sounds like a kid who says to her parents, Will you get me whatever I ask for my birthday? Any parent knows to stay away from a question like that. She’s liable to ask for a pet coyote puppy or something else that the parents know, but she’s too immature to know, isn’t good for her to have.
When I was a kid playing high school and college football, I thought it was a legitimate request that I ask Jesus to make me play well and be a great quarterback. The way I figured it, someone was going to be famous at it, and it might as well be me, because after all, I would give God all the glory that others gave to me, and then it would be a good deal for Jesus and me both. It worked for a while, until Jesus stopped holding up his end of the deal. Apparently Jesus never made the deal. This goofy attitude of mine actually lasted into my first pastorate. My ambition took a long time to fall in line behind my theology.
I remember my aunt and uncle visiting Mobile. He was a Lutheran pastor and is just 12 years or so older than I, so we had some camaraderie around our calling. They were commenting on how my brother and sister and I all seemed to have great ambition, and their two were less driven. I said something to the effect that I always thought if someone were going to be the president of the world, it might as well be me. Seventeen years as the pastor of this church has taken some of that hubris out of me. Partly because I grew up a bit. Partly because I know a good thing when I see it in this church. And partly because I have had to preach sermons on texts like these for so long now that it judges you pretty thoroughly.
But that’s the point, I think. That’s the point of coming to church week by week and reading your Bible and praying day by day, and rubbing up against people along the journey of faith that are ahead of you and behind you and beside you. It keeps you honest and it keeps you humble, and by that I mean it reminds you of your proper place.
James and John needed that reminding. Here they are, nearly three years into walking the road with Jesus. They are heading toward Jerusalem now, where Jesus will resist the political calls to be the Jewish leader who will take the Romans by storm and restore the fortunes of Israel. In the minds of many, including his closest disciples, Jesus was all set up for glory. He was on a fast track to the big house. He was Barack Obama, sitting out there being admired by conservatives and liberals and moderates and independents alike. They were telling him he was the last best hope of Israel. And he was trying to tell them to keep their hair shirts on—this was going to be harder than they thought, and victory would seem more like defeat.
The political season is in high gear now. Candidates are trying to convince the public that all they care about is serving the interests of the people. But our nose detectors are pretty well schooled to sniff out the presence of fresh cow patties. The humorist Dave Barry wrote about his experience back in the ’60s when he was an intern in the corridors of Congress. Things haven’t changed much since then. Listen: “[W]hen I got to Washington I discovered that even among young people, being a good guy was not the key thing: The key thing was your position on the great Washington totem pole of status. Way up at the top of this pole is the president; way down at the bottom, below mildew, is the public. In between is an extremely complex hierarchy of government officials, journalists, lobbyists, lawyers, and other power players, holding thousands of minutely graduated status rankings differentiated by extremely subtle nuances that only Washingtonians are capable of grasping. …
“Everybody in Washington always seems to know exactly how much status everybody else has. I don’t know how they do it. Maybe they all get together in some secret location and sniff one another’s rear ends. All I know is, back in my internship summer of 1967, when I went to Washington parties, they were nothing like parties I’d become used to in college. I was used to parties where it was not unusual to cap off the evening by drinking bourbon from a shoe, and not necessarily your own shoe. Whereas the Washington parties were serious. Everybody made an obvious effort to figure out where everybody else fit on the totem pole, and then spent the rest of the evening sucking up to whoever was higher up. I hated it. Of course, one reason for this was that nobody ever sucked up to me, since interns rank almost as low as members of the public.” [www.thisisawar.com/LaughterDave
Of course there are many noble people in Washington and in politics. But back to Jesus: it’s not so much that he tames our personal ambition, although that may be part of it. It’s that he redirects it. What do you really want in life?
Donald Trump and his co-author, Robert Kiyosaki, were on a morning show a week or so ago touting their new book, Why We Want You to Be Rich. Now, I am sure there is lots of helpful and reasonable information in there, but since I have not read the book, I should leave that to an educated reviewer. What Trump said on TV about it, though, gave me pause. He said that the gap between rich and poor is growing in this country. And being rich beats being poor every time. He said he wants people to know the good life of being rich, and so he is offering his personal wisdom on how to have a good life by gaining wealth. Okay, but one of the cardinal rules in all of this is that you will become like the people you hang out with. You will burn only the fuel you take in. So listen to the rich and famous and powerful, and you’ll have a better chance of getting there.
So what if you actually think that greatness is not about riches and fame and power? What if you were to listen to Jesus about what makes for a truly good life? What if you serve a Savior who tells you that true greatness is in service, and that this honor is something that you must give to others but let go of for yourself? Well, if that is so, then you have to work hard to stay close to Jesus, because that is not the message most people are getting from other sources.
Some years ago a young man in our church was being considered for deacon service. The late Mike Stuart was sent on the errand to interview him in his home. After a nice visit, the would-be nominee thanked Mike for the opportunity because he said it is a great honor to be elected a deacon. A pall fell over Mike’s countenance as he heard those words. Well, I’m sorry you feel that way about it, Mike replied. Being a deacon is about service, not honor. He left that night and did not recommend the young man to be ordained at that time.
Churches are filled with people looking for honor and power instead of sacrifice and service. And there are loads of people who occupy committees and deacon positions and staff offices who think that if they don’t get their way, they aren’t being listened to, and if that’s the case, maybe they won’t even accept the call to serve. Entitlement mentality is just the kind of thing we criticize in others but have a hard time admitting to ourselves that we struggle with, too. Yet we follow a Savior who said, [W]hoever wishes to be great … must be [a] servant, and whoever wants to be first … must be slave of all. And he said of himself, The Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.
So let me ask you again, what is it you really want in life? Ralph Waldo Emerson warned the 1838 graduating class of Harvard: Young men, be careful what you want, for you shall surely get it. John F. Kennedy put it differently but similarly in his inaugural challenge to America in January 1961. Ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country. Jesus would have been too humble to answer James and John this way, but we might say for him: Ask not what Jesus can do for you; ask what you can do for Jesus.
And if we would ask that question, what would Jesus say? I think he would say to come and follow him. I think he would remind us that to do so would mean we would have to drink the cup of suffering he would drink and undergo the baptism of fire that he would undergo. But I think buried in that would be a secret promise that that life would be worth it. That life would be eternally rich.
I preached the installation service this week for The Reverend Sandra Mayer of Atmore, Alabama. She became rector of the small but historic Trinity Episcopal Church there. This is her first pastorate. She is 65 years old. She only last year finished her master’s degree in theology. She answered a call to ministry under my ministry in Mobile, a church that just this week was kicked out of the Mobile Baptist Association by an 82 percent vote for having an ordained woman on staff. I am still proud of that church, don’t you know?! Well, Sandra had to leave the Baptists in Alabama to find a chance to serve. And she is doing it beautifully in that lovely place.
When she told her mother about her decision to answer the call to ministry, she was 45 years old or so. Her mother said, Sandra, by the time you finish school and start your ministry, you’ll be 59 years old. Sandra replied matter-of-factly, Mother, I am going to be 59 years old one way or another. I might as well be 59 and doing what I believe the Lord is calling me to do.
What about you? Are you doing what the Lord is calling you to do?
After telling that story about 15 years ago in a sermon here, a man was listening on the radio a week later and heard it as if it were the Lord speaking to him. Carl Reeves was a banker here in Dallas who knew in his soul that he was meant to do other work. He went home and talked to his wife and kids, and with their courage and blessing he entered nursing school in mid-life. For the last decade he has been serving cancer patients in Dallas hospitals and sensing the truth of Jesus’ words about greatness.
You can do that through banking, too, of course. You can do it in politics, too. You can do it as a homemaker or a lawyer or a sales clerk. The issue is whether you are doing what you are doing because you are called to it, and then whether you are serving Christ by serving others when you do it.
This is greatness, and only this will bring a reward at the right time from your Father in heaven. For now, the question is not what Jesus will do for you but what you will do for Jesus.