Sermon - Pentecost 18 - Mark 9:30-37

 

Today we examine, through our readings, the Christian teaching of humility.  It’s a value we share, at least to some extent, with the secular world.  Practically no one, even an unbeliever, would say that it’s good to be proud and arrogant, and that it’s not good to be humble.  But we Christians see humility as much more than a virtue.  It is deeply connected to our understanding of sin.  And for Christians, true humility also has its roots deep in the person and work of Christ.  Let’s consider Christian humility this morning.

The disciples of Jesus, you might think, would be wonderful examples of humility.  But anyone who’s read the New Testament enough knows better.  In so many ways, these disciples are like us, and like all people, subject to the fallen nature, and just as much full of pettiness and sin as anyone.  So, Mark tells us, on the road they were having an argument amongst themselves about who was the greatest.

I like to imagine how that conversation might have gone.  Peter claiming he’s the greatest, because he got to walk on water.  Then another says, “yeah, but he also told you ‘get behind me Satan’”  Then Nathaniel makes his case, “I’m clearly the greatest.  He called me a true Israelite in whom there is nothing false” and John, “well, I’m the disciple that Jesus loves!”  And Judas, “yeah but which one of you does he trust to carry the money bag?”

Like petulant children fighting in the back seat of a car on a long road trip, and mom and dad just listen in and don’t intervene.  Jesus heard the whole thing.  He knew what they were arguing about.  And he waited till later to address it.

When he did ask them, they were silent.  And that silence speaks volumes.  They seemed to know what they did was shameful.  They couldn’t even give an excuse for their petty grandstanding, their jockeying for position.  Funny how a gentle question, rightly timed, can disarm us and show us our sin so clearly.

Who is the greatest?  It’s a question we also ask among ourselves, in many and various ways.  But for them, and for us, it’s the wrong question.  The right question, the question that they should have been asking, is to hear more about what Jesus had been telling them.  For in the paragraph before we hear him say,

“The Son of Man is going to be delivered into the hands of men, and they will kill him. And when he is killed, after three days he will rise.” 32 But they did not understand the saying, and were afraid to ask him.

And if they asked, he might have told them, shown them, how the scriptures had to be thus fulfilled.  He could have taught them that the true purpose of the Messiah is not to come as conquering king or military strongman, but as a humble servant, and a sacrifice for sin.  To lay down his life as a ransom for his friends.  To be delivered up for the sins of the people, and to rise on the third day.

Jesus is, of course the greatest, by rights, by nature.  The very Son of God, eternal, immortal, almighty, all-knowing, and so much more.  But the Greatest shows his greatness not in braggadocio, nor in mighty feats of power and glory… he shows his greatness in humility.

From your confirmation studies, you might recall how we speak of Jesus in his “State of Humiliation”.  That is, how he puts aside, for the most part, his divine power and glory, and descends, condescends, to us. 

He, “who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, 7 but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men.” (Philippians 2:6-7)

The Apostles’ Creed outlines Christ’s work for us in his state of humiliation:  He was conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried.

He humbled himself to live among us, even as a child.  He learned to talk, to walk, he learned the Scriptures.  He humbly and obediently obeyed his parents, and submitted to their authority.

He humbly suffered, throughout his life – nowhere to lay his head.  No great riches or fine clothing, nothing but humble service all along the way.  He suffered the rejection of many, his own people, even betrayal by one of his own.  He was handed over to sinful men, and yet humbly stood before them, like a lamb led to the slaughter, silent.  And he did not turn away at the last, but embraced his cross, scorned its shame, drank the cup fully, and could not be brought any lower than death and grave.

In all of this, and throughout his earthly life, Christ made himself lower, least, last.  He humbled himself, even unto death, even death on the cross.

And he did it, mind you, not just to be an example to us.  He did it to be our savior.  To take our place under the law.  To make himself a substitute for us, to do the job, all the jobs right – that we did not and cannot. 

And so Jesus teaches his disciples, as they are able to receive it.  The time would come when they would more fully comprehend, and even preach, his humble service in life and death.  The time would come when they would, like their Lord, lay down their lives in humble service and great faith.  But for now, he gives them a principle and an object lesson.

The principle is this:  “If anyone would be first, he must be last of all and servant of all.”  Exactly opposite of worldly thinking.  If you would be first, you must be last.  If you would be great, you must serve. And if you want to be the greatest of all, you must be the servant of all.  Of course that’s what Jesus does.  He serves the world by become last of all, lowest of all, dying for all. 

And we, in Christian service, are now called to serve others in response.  We can’t be the savior of the world, nor do we need to be.  But we are to serve those we can in sincere humility.

Our humility is different than Christ’s, though.  For he made himself lowly, though he was of highest place by rights.  Each of us, however, starts out far differently.  Paul says, “if anyone thinks he is something, when he is nothing….” To warn us from boasting.  Because in sin, we are all nothing.  We are, if we are honest, already lowly and despised, the things that are not.  But only through the righteousness of Christ are we exalted.  Only through the precious blood of Christ do we attain any value before God’s throne.  Only through Christ can we receive the Father, the one who sent him.

And so humbling ourselves in service is more a recognition of our lowly state, and a reflection of the love Christ has shown to us in his own humility.

Oh, and the object lesson?  A child.  Lowly and humble, a little child who doesn’t know much, can’t do much for himself, brings no great wealth or wisdom to bear.  But a child, a recipient.  A picture of how we approach God, and a prime example of how we can show Christ’s love.

You’re no better than this lowly child.  But receive him in my name, and receive me, and receiving me, receive him who sent me.  Don’t think you’re too good, even for a child, but show true humility in service to the humble and lowly, in my name.

For Christ, the humble one, suffered and died at the hands of sinful men, and rose again on the third day.  Christ, the greatest one, has made himself last and least for you.  Therefore humble yourself in the sight of the Lord, and he will exalt you, in Jesus Christ our Lord, amen.