My sermon from the 22nd Sunday after Pentecost (October 20, 2024) on Mark 10:35-45.
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So one of the things I find pretty fascinating is how human the disciples get to be. On one level, their mistakes, doubts, and questions serve as a pretty vivid counter example to who Jesus is. Yet it’s also surprising so many of the disciples’ L’s were recorded in our holy scripture. Leaders, religious and otherwise, surround themselves with people who reflect who these leaders are. And while some might claim those around them are the smartest and best at what they do, these followers are often selected for their loyalty and ability to help win whatever kind of contest the leader is in. These lieutenants might seem to us to be a tad relatable since they carry enough pose, polish, authenticity, and performative humility to help us imagine what we would be like in such a privileged position. And it would be great if those next to the leader were as strong, powerful, persuasive, and successful as we imagine they should be. But – over and over again, those following Jesus don’t seem to get what – or who – he is. These apostles and friends, some named and others who remain nameless, had the Son of God physically and literally in front of them. Yet they, for whatever reason, rarely heard what he actually said. We might, I think, based on what these disciples said and did assume God wants to push us beyond our humanity and into something a bit more holy and divine. But I wonder if the reason why their faults, mistakes, what they get right and what they get wrong, were actively included in our faith story was to let us know how we will not be the limit of what being faithfully human can be about.
Now getting Jesus wrong has been a major theme in Mark over the last few weeks. Even after Peter, way back in chapter 8, identified Jesus as the One who would reshape and redefine our relationship with God and with one another – Peter couldn’t help but then immediately accuse Jesus of lying when Jesus shared how his story would turn out. Everytime Jesus described how people would respond when God’s kingdom came near, the disciples assumed the One who could calm storms was simply wrong. And so, after Jesus once again told the disciples about his death and resurrection in the verses right before the ones we just heard, James and John acted as if they weren’t listening at all. Their behavior reminds me of all those times when we’re talking to our kids or our significant other or maybe a friend and, after revealing something deep and heavy, they respond with something else entirely. When that happens, it’s usually a sign those we were talking to were so focused on their own stuff, they couldn’t hear us at all. What they wanted was an opportunity to talk rather than listen. As a person who has been on both sides of this experience, I know how exhausting it can be to not be heard. And yet Jesus chose in that moment to not get angry, upset, or reveal any of the exasperation he felt. He, instead, simply listened – and heard all the assumptions and expectations that were holding James and John back. These disciples, like most of their friends, wanted Jesus to initiate a kind of political kingdom that would use miracles and acts of excessive power to establish a new Empire rivaling Rome itself. They saw in Jesus’ ability to manipulate the natural and supernatural world the kind of power they wanted to stay close too. And the disciples had, just a few chapters earlier, experienced that power first hand since Jesus empowered them to do restorative acts full of love, justice, and mercy. I wonder if this little taste of having control over the cosmos blocked them from hearing Jesus when he talked about those moments when it seemed as if others had power over him. Now the reasons why they chose to focus on this kind of power were probably shaped by feelings of nostalgia, fear, insecurity, and maybe even a little grief since they no longer had what they once had. But everything they said seemed grounded in a desire to fight for their place in the world and with their God. Rather than exploring what it means to be a part of what God is up to, they sought to prove their worth to not only themselves but also lay claim to the kind of power they felt entitled to. It was the way of life that chooses to see everything as a kind of competition we must fight for our place in. And since this worldview imagines everything as a kind of fight, what we chase after is the power over others since we know how powerless we actually are. If we’ve ever found ourselves facing a scary medical diagnosis, lost job, a wasted opportunity, a broken relationship, or even the simple experience of growing old – it’s truly frightening how little we actually control. So we, in response, do whatever we can to hold onto – or at least not lose – the power we think we have. What we want is the ability to move others rather than be moved by them which is why the other disciples heard what John and James did, what they were really angry about was how those two had asked first. The disciples knew Jesus had said something but they couldn’t hear him because what they wanted was the power to move others like Jesus could move the clouds, the earth, and the entire spiritual world.
And so Jesus, who could feed thousands with a few loaves of bread, asked John and James to think less about how divine they thought they needed to be and focus more on how human they could be instead. Jesus wondered if they had the power, the sense of duty, and could embrace the responsibility of being as powerless as he would be on the Cross. Their immediate response to Jesus implies, I think, they assumed Jesus was asking if they were capable of exercising the kind of power they had manifested from Jesus in the past. But what Jesus, I think, was pointing to was if they would be able to live through those moments when we realize just how fragile, vulnerable, and imperfect we truly are. Rather than chasing after the kind of power that, for us, will always be temporary, could Jesus’ friends imagine a way of being in the world where we valued and cherished our createdness. Instead of competing for power, could we recognize the power God has already given us to listen, care, pray, and be for one another? Jesus wasn’t, I think, encouraging them to look for joy in suffering or justify the ways we abuse power in our relationships, our families, and our world. He was, rather, encouraging them to not let their experience as humans be the limit of how human they can be. When we choose to focus on how Jesus used power rather than the act of power itself, we uncover just how human we get to be. We might not have the power to calm the storm but we can show up, care, and listen to those whose lives are a storm all in themselves. And when we live like this, we’re not trying to have power over one another but rather being a powerful presence through the powerlessness that comes with life. It takes quite a leap of faith to live like this since it requires us to push aside our desire to win by assuming that when it comes to winning the ultimate challenge, Jesus has already won it for all. When it comes to being human, there’s nothing we need to win since God didn’t let our experience of being human be the limit of what God’s love will do. God, instead, showed us how God’s power writes a new chapter for our lives and for our world. The Ls we take are magnified when we chase after a power that always assumes there isn’t enough stuff, joy, and grace for all to live and love like they could. Yet Jesus, through the Cross, showed how being for each other is the kind of human God created us to be.
Amen.