Mark 9:30-37 (James 3:13-4:3, 7-8a)
September 23, 2012
A
Toddler’s Property Rights
1. If I like it, it’s mine.
2. If it’s in my hand, it’s mine.
3. If I can take it from you, it’s mine.
4. If I had it a little while ago, it’s mine.
5. If it’s mine, it must never appear to be
yours in any way.
6. If I’m doing or building something, all the
pieces are mine.
7. If it looks like mine, it’s mine.
8. If I saw it first, it’s mine.
9. If you are playing with something and put it
down, it automatically becomes mine.
10. If it’s broken, it’s yours. (Unless you find a good way to play with it,
then it’s mine again.)
For
those of you who have ever raised a toddler, currently have a toddler, once
were a toddler or know a toddler, you probably recognize and affirm the truth
in these property rights. I’ve spent a
lot of time with toddlers, my own and others, and these property rights
manifest themselves with every toy and in every game they play. If you know someone who is anticipating a
toddler in the near future, please pass on this piece of advice – batten down
the hatches of their home. It’s going to
be a bumpy ride.
It’s
not that toddlers aren’t delightful.
They are. They are fun, they’re
silly. They’re joyful. It’s just that I’ve yet to meet a toddler who
knows how to share. In fact, I’m not
convinced that any one of us is born knowing how to share. We have to be taught. While it may be hard for children, it’s
equally hard for adults.
We
have to be taught how to share. And it
seems to me that the people who share well are the people who have also learned
to put the needs of someone else first before their own. They are the people who are aware of their
own desires, but know that sometimes the needs of others come first.
The
disciples are struggling with this concept when we meet them in this particular
passage from Mark. Jesus and the
disciples are on the road again. They
are traveling away from the crowds who had gathered around Jesus after he,
Peter, James and John had gone up a high mountain for the transfiguration. They passed through Galilee, and as they did
Jesus taught them again that the Son of Man will be betrayed into human
hands. He will be killed. After three days he will rise. But the disciples, who heard this same
message in our passage last week, still don’t understand the reality Jesus is
trying to communicate, and they are too afraid to ask him to explain, so they
remain silent.
Then
they reach a house in Capernaum. After they’re settled in, Jesus asks the
disciples about the argument they were having while they were traveling. Again the disciples respond with
silence. They don’t answer him because
they were arguing about who among them was the greatest, at the top of the
disciple heap. Which one of them would
win the prize as the greatest disciple of all?
For
Jesus this becomes a teachable moment.
He doesn’t rebuke them for their argument or their ambitions. He doesn’t roll his eyes and tell them they
just don’t get it. Instead he sits down
and calls the disciples to him. He picks
up a little child and sets it among them.
Then he takes the child in his arms and says, “Whoever welcomes one such
child in my name welcomes me, and who welcomes me welcomes not me but the one
who sent me.”
Jesus
took a child, a being with no power, no wealth, completely dependent on others
for its very existence, and placed that child among them. Not only did he bring the child into their
midst, he equated himself with that child.
Whoever welcomes this child in my name welcomes me. And if you welcome this child, if you welcome
me, then you also welcome the One who sent me.
Jesus
likens himself to a child which ultimately means that the child is likened to
God. The least one becomes the
greatest. The disciples can argue and
posture and dispute all they want. The
least one becomes the greatest.
How
do you think the disciples felt about that?
Not only were they informed that none of them was truly the greatest,
they were also told and shown that they would have to be willing to share their
visions of glory with a lowly child. In
fact, from what Jesus is telling them, that child will rank even higher than
they will, his disciples, his followers, his best supporters.
I
imagine that this was a bitter pill for the disciples to swallow. But no matter how it stuck in their throat,
they were forced to be accountable for their selfish ambition.
Selfish
ambition. Aren’t those the same words
James uses in his epistle? In fact he
uses this particular phrase twice. In
verse 14, “But if you have bitter envy and selfish ambition in your hearts, do
not be boastful and false to the truth.”
And again in verse 16, “For where there is envy and selfish ambition,
there will also be disorder and wickedness of every kind.”
Were
the disciples engaged in selfish ambition?
Was it selfish ambition that drove them to debate their hierarchy of
stature? Who was the greatest among
them? Was it Peter? James?
John? Thomas? Andrew?
Who? Who would be the right hand
man to the right hand man? Yet it seemed
that their spotlight must be shared with a child! Quite a blow to their selfish ambition!
The
disciples, in their very human nature, wanted there to be a pecking order, with
one of them clearly at the top. That pecking
order would never have included a child.
They were practicing selfish ambition, and according to James it is our
selfish ambition that gets us into trouble; that keeps us from sharing. Disorder, wickedness, and evil of every kind
come from this selfish ambition. Perhaps
Jesus wanted to demonstrate in the most tangible way possible that the
disciples’ selfish ambition would not earn them the glory and greatness they
desired and thought they deserved.
But
is it wrong to have ambition? It is our
ambition that drives us. It is our
ambition that pushes us to strive, to reach for goals and to seek higher
ideals. It is our ambition that pushes
us to succeed. How many of us were told
directly or indirectly that a little bit of ambition will get us ahead?
I
certainly have ambition. My ambitions
have changed and refined over the years but I still have them. I doubt that I’m alone in this. What are your ambitions? Are they career oriented? Are they about family, your children, your
grandchildren? I find myself becoming
more and more ambitious for my children, which I know can lead to a whole bunch
of trouble if I don’t keep my desires for them in check.
I
think though that our ambitions are a lot like our priorities. I think that’s the point James is trying to
make. Just as we often have to
reprioritize our lives to align them with God’s priorities, we also have to
align our ambitions. Is ambition by
itself wrong? I don’t think so. But when our ambitions become selfish, if
they drive us to use people in order to reach them or if they pull us away from
God instead of drawing us closer, then our ambitions do lead to the disorder
and the wickedness and the evil that James writes of so emphatically.
A
few years ago the theatre department at the college in Decorah, our town in Iowa,
put on a production of Ibsen’s play Peer
Gynt. I knew very little about the
play before I went to see it. I’m not
entirely sure I understood it any better when I left. But I did understand this: Peer Gynt was an irresponsible, arrogant,
self-centered yet charming young man.
And at the end of the play, at the end of his life, he was an
irresponsible, arrogant, self-centered but not so charming lost and lonely old
man. Peer Gynt did nothing for anyone
unless it served his own purposes. His
own needs, his own desires came first – always – above friends, above family,
above loved ones.
At one point in
the drama he finds his true love, and for a moment you dared to hope that he
would at last become the caring, devoted, giving man he had the potential to
be. But even this great love could not
hold him or ground him, and he went on his way, hurting others, hurting
himself.
In
one scene Peer Gynt finds himself at the center of a community of trolls. They
are repulsive creatures, and Peer Gynt wants nothing to do with them. He is tricked by the Troll King’s daughter
into an engagement and he looks for escape.
The Troll King threatens him and curses him and shares with him the
trolls’ motto and creed, “To thine own selfish be true.” But Peer Gynt rebuffs the Troll King and dismisses
his motto.
Years
later he meets the Troll King once more.
Now the King is old and stooped and living out his last years in
misery. He tells Peer that he is one of
them, he too is a Troll. Peer protests,
“I am nothing like you!” But Peer has spent
his life fully living out the troll’s beloved creed, to thine own selfish be
true. Peer’s ambitions, his desires, his
lofty illusions and dreams have been nothing but selfish. And at the end of his life he dies alone, his
selfish existence having driven away all others who might have comforted him
and loved him in his last hours.
To
thine own selfish be true.
Generosity,
sharing may be a virtue that we must be taught, yet I also know that we don’t
all adhere to the creed “to thine own selfish be true.” We rise above that creed. The ministry and work of this congregation,
including the Community Meal that we will serve this afternoon, continues
because so many of you reject the idea of “to thine own selfish be true.” Yet selfish ambitions have a way of sneaking
up on us, even when – especially when – we think we’re doing something strictly
for the glory of God.
I
suspect that could have been the original motivation for the disciples’ argument
on just exactly who was the greatest. They
were trying to follow this humble teacher, this man they believed to be the Son
of God. And they wanted to be the
greatest at that following. Yet how did
Jesus respond to their ambitions for greatness?
He didn’t scold or argue or labor through one more lecture. He took a child, a being who in that time and
culture was barely seen as a person.
Jesus took this child, a helpless, powerless, defenseless little one and
said, “See this child? Whoever welcomes
a child in my name welcomes me. And when
you welcome me you welcome the One who sent me.” This child, this least one, is truly the
greatest. Let all God’s children say,
“Amen.”
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