Pentecost 21 B: Who Will You Serve?

A quick note, Dear Partner, that it’s not too late to register for this year’s Preaching Days with five fabulous presenters and lots of great workshops. It’s going to be great. I hope you can join us!

 

Dear Partner in Preaching,

Who will you serve?

I don’t know if you got a prickly feeling when reading that question or whether you read over it quickly enough not to notice how much it runs against our grain. Either way, I’ll ask it again: who will you serve?

As a culture and species, we tend to prize freedom…and accomplishment…and autonomy…and self-determination…and… And the list could go on. Which is why, if we slow down and take the question seriously, we’ll recognize how much itgrates against our deeply held belief and culturally formed sensibilities.

Yet perhaps one of the most pernicious illusions of our culture is that we are, indeed, free and autonomous beings who can live independent of all bonds of loyalty, devotion, and service. In fact, I shudder to think how much time and energy we expend in service to – yes, in service to – the idea that we don’t have to serve anyone.

This assertion – that you will always serve something or someone whether you know it or not – is at the very heart of not simply today’s passage but much of Mark’s Gospel. Notice, for instance, the careful literary structuring of this larger section of Jesus’ march to Jerusalem and his three predictions – actually, announcements would be more like it – of his impending death.

First, way back in chapter 8, Jesus cures a blind man at Bethsaida, but it doesn’t seem to take at first; indeed, it takes a little time for the man to regain his full sight. Then comes Peter’s declaration and Jesus’ first announcement of his impending death. But Peter doesn’t get it and rebukes Jesus (who in turn rebukes him right back.)

Then, in chapter 9, Jesus repeats his declaration that he will die in Jerusalem, a pronouncement that terrifies his disciples into silence…until, that is, they begin arguing with each other about who is the greatest because, again, they don’t get it. Jesus’ words take time to sink in, so he puts before them a child and tells them that leadership and greatness are about welcoming the vulnerable.

Now, in chapter 10, Jesus says once more – in verses just before those appointed (but which should definitely be read on Sunday!) – that he is going to Jerusalem to die. And, again, the disciples don’t get it. First, James and John ask for special places of honor and then the rest of the disciples resent their self-interested pushiness. Jesus’ words still haven’t sunk in and taken hold yet, so he says as plainly and clearly as possible that to be great is to serve others and that to be first is to be last. And then comes another healing of a blind man, Bartimaeus.

It’s interesting, isn’t it, how these healings of blindness bracket Jesus’ three pronouncements of his impending death, the disciples’ failure to understand, and Jesus ongoing teaching about what constitutes greatness? I think Mark tells the story this way because he knows that Jesus’ words – indeed, his whole life! – run contrary to our natural tendency to think about power, leadership, and all of life according to the terms of the world and therefore take time to sink in. In today’s reading, for instance, James and John think greatness comes from status and power. And in response Jesus points out that there is no escaping service. You will either willingly, even joyfully, serve others, or you will become a slave to your illusions that you can be free and secure your future through status and power (or, in our day, wealth or youth or fame or possessions, and so on.).

So I’ll ask again: who will you serve – the voices of the culture that say that you can be free – indeed, must be free – on your own and at any cost, or the voice of Jesus that calls you to find your freedom and, indeed, your true self, through service to neighbor. Last week we read the Genesis narrative in relation to Jesus’ words about marriage, but I wonder if they aren’t more about our inherently relational and social nature as those made in the image of the triune God. We are made to be in relationship and we discover our wholeness only as we join ourselves to the fortunes of those around us.

Indeed, perhaps it would be worth repeating that reading this week so that we can hear it addressed not simply to marriage but to all of our relationships, recognizing that God delights in our relationships at home and school and work and in the community and that we discover our identity as whole people as we see ourselves inextricably linked – “bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh” – with those around us.

Perhaps that’s also how we might hear Jesus’ description of his life as giving himself “as a ransom for many” – not as Jesus buying us back from God (or the devil – take your pick, they’re both awful choices), but instead as paying himself out in order to rescue us from our delusion that we are somehow self-sufficient, independent, self-made men and women. From this point, his whole life – including his self-sacrificing death – challenges not only our assumptions but the very powers that be with the surprising and life-giving revelation that as we lose ourselves in service we find ourselves living more fully than ever before. It’s an example and sacrifice validated in the resurrection and, for that matter, in our own experience as we give ourselves away in service and love only to discover a depth and quality of life we’d never experienced before.

So I’ll ask it again: who will you serve? You don’t have to let others answer this for you. That is indeed part of our freedom as God’s children. And once you’ve answered it, you can ask your people the same and then set them free by God’s promise and power to serve others and find themselves.

Thanks for your good words and life of service, Dear Partner, this message – and your ministry – has never mattered more!

Yours in Christ,
David