Grant us
Lord, not to be anxious about earthly things, but to love things heavenly; and
even now, while we are placed among things that are passing away, to hold fast
to those that shall endure; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns
with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
This is
easy to read and seemingly impossible to do. Oh that I could abandon my anxiety
about earthly things long enough to know what it feels like to truly love
things heavenly.
Tonight's
gospel has Jesus passing through Galilee, when Jesus foretells of his death for
the second time in the gospel. He says, "The Son of Man is to be betrayed
into human hands, and they will kill him, and three days after being killed, he
will rise again."
Throughout
the gospel he has equated himself with the term "Son of Man," so this
isn't something that the disciples should miss as being a revelation about
himself. Yet, they do. And they are afraid to even ask.
Once
they're settled at a house in Capernaum, Jesus asks what they had argued about
during their travels there. Again, they are silent and do not want to speak up.
It seems as if maybe the same fear that kept them from asking about the death
and resurrection of the Son of Man is keeping them from revealing that on the
way, they argued about who was the greatest.
Think
about the two things put beside one another: while one man speaks openly about
the death he will endure, others argue about who is the greatest. While Jesus
sets his heavy heart on heavenly things, the disciples argue anxiously about
earthly things.
In light
of their arguments, Jesus calls them together in what is literally a come to
Jesus meeting. He takes their arguments as a teaching moment and teaches them
that "Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of
all." Then he takes a child and holds the child in front of them and says
"Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever
welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me."
A child is
the lowest person in society-- the most powerless. The child has no rank, and
is not even in the running of a contest about who is the greatest. This
person-- without greatness, without power in society-- this is who Jesus calls
them to welcome.
This past
week I was gone at a conference for pastoral care in crisis situations. I was
the only Episcopalian in a room full of chaplains from a variety of
backgrounds: hospital chaplains, Red Cross chaplains, military chaplains, you
name it. For the most part, the program did stress the need to enter into
another person's pain, and I appreciated that. In other words, for the most
part they suggested loving the powerless in society by giving up our power in
society.
Still, I
realized the tendency and temptation for those of us living the Christian life
to go into situations as if we are on the "other side" of the
journey, ready to drag the hurting person into the resurrection life.
And
something gnawed at me. Jesus laid, dead in a tomb, for three days. God did not
see fitting that at the very moment of dying that Jesus be restored. God did
not see fit that Jesus avoid the tomb entirely. Jesus laid, dead in a tomb, for
three days.
When I
encounter someone dying - in mind, body, or soul, I am called by God not to
drag them into the resurrection.... But to join them in the tomb. I am called
to wait with them for the resurrection that is promised by God. If I am to be
anything, I'm the reminder of the promised resurrection of God, and the one to
lead them toward it. I am to give up my earthly power and anxiety so that my
heart is ready to enter the tomb. Because in the tomb, there is no
"greatest." There is only death waiting for resurrection.
Whoever
wants to be free of anxiety surrounding earthly things must try to put their
mind on heavenly things.
Whoever
wants to put their mind on heavenly things must welcome the lowest of the low.
Whoever
welcomes the lowest of the low will do so as someone just like them-- as an
equal-- as someone who has traded their earthly power for heavenly strength...
Whoever
welcomes the lowest of the low in the name of the Son of Man and the one who
sent him will do so not as someone reaching down from above, but as someone
holding their hand beside them.
Whoever
wishes to serve will enter the tomb, sit with the dead, and wait patiently for
the resurrection that God promises.
Because
whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all. Whoever wants
to be first must trade their earthly power for heavenly strength.
In the
Christian life, there is no death without resurrection.
Let me
join you in the tomb, so we can wait together.