Sermon: One More Time

October 20, 2024

Isaiah 53:4-12
Mark 10:35-45

My first job for which I was paid – other than coins from the Tooth Fairy – was as a performing magician. I did three shows at the Blandford Fair in Blandford, Massachusetts, when I was around thirteen. And I got paid for it.

I wasn’t terribly good, but I was better then than I would be now. I’ve forgotten a lot of what I knew.

Most of what I knew came from the writings of Henry Hay, particularly his 1947 book Learn Magic. I do remember something from that book. More than once, Hay urged his readers to slow down and give the audience a chance to grasp what was going on. He’d say something like, “Hold up a coin, and count slowly to three. By that time, the slow one in the back knows you’re holding a coin.”

And if you have to, repeat yourself. Repeat yourself again, until everybody knows what you said. Later in life I learned a similar formula: Tell them what you’ll tell them, tell them, and then tell them what you told them.

By this point in Mark’s Gospel, Jesus had been struggling to convince his disciples that his journey to Jerusalem would end in arrest, crucifixion, and death – and that this would be OK. It hadn’t gone well. In chapter eight, when Jesus first said it, Simon Peter’s protest had been so forceful that Jesus lashed out with, “Get behind me, Satan!” In chapter nine, Jesus said it again, and none of his disciples dared to ask him what he was talking about. They did, however, start arguing about who was greatest.

Jesus told them, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” You might recall that I preached on that story, asking, “Who wants to be first?” and suddenly nobody did.

Here in chapter ten, Jesus told the twelve for the third time that he would be killed and resurrected. The lectionary, somewhat strangely, skips that section, and jumps to what we read this morning, when James and John asked for a special place at Jesus’ side. Let’s be careful, however, to be sure of what they meant.

Sarah Hinlicky Wilson writes at Working Preacher, “James and John misunderstand the glory they are pursuing actively, for Jesus’ ‘baptism is not a matter of action but of passion. Their boastful assurance ‘We are able!’ earns a response from Jesus whose irony can only be grasped by those who read to the end of the story: you bet you’re going to undergo this baptism, but it doesn’t mean what you think it means.”

They thought it meant the liberation of the people of Israel from foreign domination, which included the Hasmonean monarchs who were so clearly lackeys of the Romans. Goodbye Caesar; goodbye Herod: Welcome, King Jesus! A new-crowned monarch would need a royal court, you see, a collection of aides and officials to pass along Jesus’ directions and, of course, receive near-royal honors themselves. The most powerful of them would stand to the right and to the left in a formal setting.

They thought they were asking for what other civilizations might call a Prime Minister, a Chancellor, a Grand Vizier. It’s an impressive ambition for a couple of fishermen from a backwater part of the world.

Debie Thomas, writing at JourneyWithJesus.net, notes that James and John did a few things right. “First, the two brothers place their full faith in the right person… Second, they are ambitious for the reign of God.  They expect and want Jesus to be glorified; they expect and want the world’s wrongs to be righted… Thirdly, James and John ask. They approach Jesus boldly, and make their request with hearts full of confidence. Is the request tacky? Yes. Is it borne of ignorance and immaturity? Yes. Are some of the motives behind the request selfish?  Yes. And yet. They ask.”

As D. Mark Davis writes at LeftBehindAndLovingIt, “Since this is the third time that Jesus has disclosed his impending death, and the third reaction, a question would be whether James and John have a sense of what Jesus’ ‘glory’ really is. The twelve’s reactions to the first two disclosures would indicate that none of them gets or accepts that death is in the package.”

Do any of us, really?

One more time, Jesus brought the twelve together to tell them, “You know that among the gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. But it is not so among you; instead, whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve and to give his life a ransom for many.”

One more time.

Mark quoted Jesus on this theme twice. Matthew quoted Jesus on this theme of greatness via service four times. Luke made it five times.

I mean, one more time, right?

John didn’t really quote Jesus on this, but he made sure to demonstrate Jesus’ emphasis on greatness through service, when he described Jesus washing the disciples’ feet at the Last Supper.

They didn’t get it, so Jesus said it one more time. I would guess that some in the early church didn’t get it, either, so Matthew and Luke said it one more time and time again. I would guess that when John got to writing, there was enough of a gap between words and actions that instead of saying it one more time, he wrote about Jesus doing it one more time.

One more time.

What if we did understand greatness as service? What if we reserved honor for those who help other people? What if we provided resources and power to those who share it with those around them? What if we made sure that we reward those who lift up (and who are lifted up), rather than those who take and grab and keep and hoard?

What if we honored Jesus with magnanimity, not might?

What would the world look like?

Just to start, a world devoted to serving neighbor and stranger would not go to war. If you prize the welfare of others, you don’t kill them. Or rape them. Or plunder them. Crime rates would plummet, partially because if you care about someone else, you don’t steal from them, but also because the motives for stealing drain away. If you’re hungry, someone will care enough to feed you. If you’re out of work, people will help you find a way until there’s work again.

For that matter, people who care about one another work as best they can, because it’s one way to contribute and to share.

Racism, sexism, heterosexism, and all the other prejudices and oppressions also lose their foundations. When I make your welfare an important thing in my life, how can I accept anything that diminishes you? How can I permit someone else to denigrate you for being who you are, or prevent you from achieving the good you are capable of? How can I withhold my support for you being you?

I won’t pretend that this will be a paradise. Even if every human being fully commits to every other human being, the natural world will not. Floods, droughts, fires, earthquakes, storms, and volcanic eruptions will shatter and disrupt lives. Imperfect human understandings of our impact on the world could lead to things as serious as climate change.

At the interpersonal level, my commitment to your well-being does not mean that I understand your needs. I may get it wrong. I may mistakenly hurt or even injure you. So no. It’s not a paradise in the way we often envision one.

But isn’t it a lot better than what we have? Isn’t it worth dreaming? Isn’t it worth working for? Isn’t it worth changing ourselves for?

Getting there – well, that’s the hard part, for certain. Our structures of power, prejudice, and privilege are well established. Christianity has made relatively little headway against them in two thousand years, and has often adopted them as its own during that time.

So. Small steps. Make positive choices for the welfare of other people. Do the work to find out what people actually need before you do something they don’t need.

Check yourself for your own preconceptions and privilege. Will an action benefit you? Examine it carefully. It may also serve others more than yourself. If it’s better for you than anyone else, though, and especially if it harms someone else, maybe try something different.

Jesus said it to his disciples one more time. He tried it with them one more time, and he’s trying it with us one more time.

One more time, and one more time, and one more time.

The destination is worth the effort.

Amen.

by Eric Anderson

Watch the Recorded Sermon

Pastor Eric sometimes improvises while preaching. Sometimes he even intends to!

The image is “The Songs of Zebedee,” an etching by Jan Luyken from the Phillip Medhurst Collection of Bible illustrations housed at Belgrave Hall, Leicester, England (The Kevin Victor Freestone Bequest). Photo by Phillip Medhurst – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=20225346.

Reflection for the ‘Aha Mokupuni

October 19, 2024

Luke 22:24-30

Sometimes I feel like Jesus and I have something in common. I felt like this as the parent of young children, and as the technical support person for people confused about computers, and as a preacher. The thing I think we have in common is:

We repeat ourselves.

If you missed that: Jesus and I repeat ourselves. Repeatedly.

Jesus dealt with this question of “who is the greatest” twice in Mark’s Gospel. In Matthew, it rises to four times if you include the time Jesus told his disciples that those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted. In Luke, the count rises to five.

So it seems likely that Jesus tried to get this message across, and it also seems likely that it was a rough message for folks in the early decades of the church, because the Gospel writers emphasized it and re-emphasized it. Uniquely, Luke sets this debate about who is the greatest, and Jesus’ counter to it, at the Last Supper. The Last Supper. Talk about giving this message pride of place!

I haven’t mentioned this message’s appearance in the Gospel of John, because, well, John chose fewer stories for his Gospel and he didn’t tell the one about the disciples arguing about greatness. At the Last Supper, however, John did describe Jesus washing the disciples’ feet. It’s the same theme as what we hear from Luke, isn’t it?

Jesus said, “The kings of the gentiles lord it over them, and those in authority over them are called benefactors. But not so with you; rather, the greatest among you must become like the youngest and the leader like one who serves. For who is greater, the one who is at the table or the one who serves? Is it not the one at the table? But I am among you as one who serves.”

It’s… kind of a tricky message in this world of ours, though. For several centuries, the powerful have successfully appealed to it to discourage the powerless, the poor, and the oppressed from protesting their condition. Speaking this message as a kahu, I run the risk of telling my hearers that they should accept injustice. Plenty of people have told them precisely this: your condition is the will of God, and Jesus says, “Accept it, and oh by the way, give thanks that you’re poor and the person telling you this is rich.”

Jesus, however, didn’t say that. Jesus quoted Isaiah about the rich being sent away empty. Jesus told that story about the reversal of fortunes experienced by a poor man and a rich man after their deaths. It was the rich and the powerful who made sure Jesus died upon a cross.

Jesus wasn’t one of the rich and the powerful. His disciples gave him respect as a teacher and guide, but he didn’t move in the circles of the priesthood or the nobility and certainly not the monarchy. When he spoke of servants, he spoke of people not that much different from himself.

I think Jesus envisioned a world of compassion and care. If all are servants to one another, nobody oppresses anyone else. If all are servants to one another, all benefit from one another’s service. If all are servants to one another, all needs can be satisfied.

We’re a long way from that.

The question is, how do we get there?

We get there by focusing on that goal: a world of compassion and care. We get there by taking steps that are consistent with the goal – deeds of compassion and care – and by naming the deeds that are compassionless and uncaring. We get there by refusing to resort to the means of the oppressors, violence and force. We get there by describing the vision in such a way that others adopt it for their own.

We get there by feeding one another on the life and spirit of Jesus, who meets us at this table, the table at which he repeated himself, saying: “For who is greater, the one who is at the table or the one who serves? Is it not the one at the table? But I am among you as one who serves.”

Amen.

by Eric Anderson

There was no audio or video recording of this sermon, which was offered to the ‘Aha Mokupuni of the Hawai’i Island Association on October 19, 2024.

Pastor’s Corner: The Greatest

September 25, 2024

It’s curious, and disheartening, to see how some people raise some Bible-based standards, and ignore other Bible-based standards. In particular, I grieve at the way our society ignores the plight of far too many of our children.

The Old Testament authors repeated over and over again: the nation and its people had an obligation to care for two vulnerable classes of people: widows and orphans. “You shall not deprive a resident alien or an orphan of justice,” reads Deuteronomy 24:17. The tithe, which we usually imagine supported the priesthood, also provided for orphans, widows, and foreigners living among them. All told, the authors of the Hebrew Bible mentioned orphans over fifty times.

I don’t think it’s much of a stretch to say that injustice against any child, neglect of any child, flies in the face of those ancient standards.

In a recent poem, the Rev. Maren Tirabassi writes,

“…whoever’s primary mission
is to welcome a child, any child,

is the greatest.”

Who among us welcomes the children? Who among us rejects them? Who among us feeds the children? Who among us takes the food from their mouths? Who among us protects the children? Who among us puts them in harm’s way?

Who is the greatest?

In peace,

Pastor Eric

The image is by Mostafameraji – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=68597484.

Sermon: Who Wants to Be First?

September 22, 2024

Jeremiah 11:18-20
Mark 9:30-37

Who wants to be first?

I do, of course. I want to be first in the buffet line, and I want to be first getting onto the airplane, and I definitely want to be first off the airplane if I have a short layover, and I want to be first in my class, and I want to be first to select a seat in the theater.

I admit that, with the last name “Anderson,” I was usually assigned the first seat on the left side of the classroom. Except in Chemistry class, when Miss Ames sat ahead of me. My friend whose last name was “Yee” sat in the rear seat on the right side.

Even though I was a pretty good student, I didn’t always want to be under the teacher’s eye like that. Not to mention that if I wasn’t assigned there, I could sit with my friend, who was a fun guy to be with and, on the rare occasions we did get to sit near one another, we were pretty good at distracting one another much like I’m now distracted from this sermon.

The disciples wanted to be first. Until Jesus wanted one of them to tell him what was going on. Then… nobody wanted to be first. Not even Simon Peter, who usually had an answer to any of Jesus’ questions. In fairness, Mark tells this story not long after Simon Peter had had two pretty big and somewhat traumatic experiences. In chapter eight, Peter was the one to declare that Jesus was the Messiah – that must have been a high moment for him. A moment later, though, he protested Jesus’ announcement that the Messiah would be arrested and killed. Jesus’ response was harsh: “Get behind me, Satan!”

At the beginning of this chapter, chapter nine, Peter, James, and John joined Jesus in the trek up a mountain and experienced the Transfiguration, when a glowing Jesus spoke with those great prophets Moses and Elijah. Simon Peter offered to put up shelters for them, but a voice from heaven silenced him, thundering the words, “Listen to him!”

Getting silenced harshly by Jesus is rough. Getting silenced by the voice of God? I’d be quiet.

I think.

Nobody wanted to be first to tell Jesus what they’d been arguing about.

Everybody wanted to be first in what they’d been arguing about. Everybody wanted to be the greatest.

Except… Jesus.

Courtney V. Buggs writes at Working Preacher, “Gentleness and kindness are virtues that sound good, but grit and ruthlessness are often associated with the most powerful and successful. Ambition is celebrated for some, critiqued in others. Jesus disrupts their notion of greatness and significance with an inversion of the social order: ‘Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant [also translated minister] of all’ (verse 35).”

As Cheryl Lindsay writes at UCC.org, “If Jesus was concerned about his position, the incarnation would not have taken place. His very being embodies the shift he invites the disciples to embrace.”

In that moment, in that house, I’m not surprised the disciples didn’t understand. Divine incarnation was not a significant element of Jewish theology. The Greeks and the Romans had stories about wandering gods. Jesus’ friends had probably heard a couple of them. Jews did have stories about interactions with disguised angels (remember Abraham’s three visitors), but they maintained some distinction between messengers of God and God. They weren’t going to think of Jesus as being God incarnate.

They would think of him as being Messiah, but as I’ve said before, the dominant belief about the Messiah in the first century was that he would be the military and political leader to free the Israelites from Greek and Roman rule. Successful military and political leaders aren’t rejected or executed. Jesus’ predictions about “the Son of Man” didn’t make sense. They already had seen Jesus’ reaction to Peter’s protest.

Nobody wanted to be first with that one. Or, well, second.

They would have been happy to be second to Jesus, which would put one of them first among the twelve. In chapter ten Mark told the story of James and John asking Jesus to sit at his right and left “in his glory” – in other words, when he overthrew the Romans and sat upon his throne. They still didn’t get it.

Jesus took the opportunity to say, again, “…whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve and to give his life a ransom for many (Mark 10:43-45).”

In the first century, that ran against the grain. Very few people could reasonably hope to attain the heights of wealth and power, but they wanted to get there. In the twenty-first century, well, as Dan Clendenin writes at JourneyWithJesus.net, “I think it’s fair to say that our contemporary culture is obsessed with greatness. Consider the endless iterations of the GOAT meme. Who is the ‘greatest of all time’ artist, athlete, musician, or president? There’s even a television reality show called The Goat, in which ‘reality stars’ from other reality shows compete for the title of the greatest reality show contestant of all time. You can’t make this up, right?”

You can, but nobody would believe you.

They didn’t believe Jesus, either, despite his constant repetitions. It took the cross and the resurrection to show them that when he said it, he meant it. Be a helper. Be a caretaker. Welcome the most vulnerable – like this child here. Serve serve serve serve serve. If you want to strive for greatness, strive to serve the most people the most effectively and the most compassionately. Serve all the way to the cross.

As D. Mark Davis writes at LeftBehindAndLovingIt, “Perhaps this is the most scandalous of scandals in Mark’s gospel. By identifying so radically with a child, by embracing the road to rejection, suffering, dying and being raised, Jesus is re-defining both greatness and Godness. It is not in the glory and honor of the Caesars, but in the vulnerability of a child that we encounter God.”

Who wants to be first?

It’s worth mentioning that Jesus wasn’t the only one who knew this. In the second century Jewish rabbis collected what their predecessors had said about the Book of Exodus. Among the stories was one about Rabbi Gamaliel serving his fellow teachers at a meal. They thought he shouldn’t do such a thing, that it was beneath his dignity. But one of the rabbis said, “Abraham himself served his three visiting angels.” And then another said there was one greater than Abraham who served:

“The Holy One, blessed be he!
He gives to each and every one what he needs
and to everybody what is wanting —
and not just to proper people [benei Adam kosherim],
but also to evil people and to people who worship idols.”

How much more should we accept God’s invitation, instruction, and encouragement to serve?

I know it’s counter-cultural and counter-intuitive. I know the pursuit of excellence is also a worthwhile value. But we pursue excellence in so many wrong things. We “keep up with the Joneses,” when we could be helping to raise up the Joneses.

As Karoline Lewis writes at Working Preacher, “Mark is pointing to something important, something essential, about believing in Jesus. Because God becoming human, the incarnation, upended every assumption of greatness that the world deemed as definitive. Because God becoming human decided that greatness is not about separation but solidarity, not about better than but relationship. Not about self-adulation but empowerment and encouragement of the other.”

Who are you doing your work for? Is it for your family? That’s not bad. Families are important and it’s vital to meet their needs. Are you working for friends? That’s not bad, either. Support and encouragement builds and maintains strong relationships.

Are you working for a community with which you identify? That’s good, too. Human beings need communities in order to be human. But… do you stop there? Are there no children in other communities with whom you’re concerned? Are there children within this community who do not receive your care? Are there needs that go unmet, not because there aren’t the resources, but because there isn’t the will?

“What if Jesus is right?” asks David Lose at davidlose.net. “I mean, what if we imagined that greatness wasn’t about power and wealth and fame and all the rest, but instead we measured greatness by how much we share with others, how much we take care of others, how much we love others, how much we serve others. What kind of world would we live in?”

Who wants to live in that world?

Who wants to be first?

Amen.

by Eric Anderson

Watch the Recorded Sermon

Pastor Eric makes changes while he preaches. Sometimes a few, sometimes quite a few.

The image is Christ Teaching the Disciples by Bazzi Rahib, Ilyas Basim Khuri, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=56626 [retrieved September 22, 2024]. Original source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Jesus_teaching_his_disciples.jpg.