How to Climb Higher

“How to Climb Higher”

Mark 10:35-45

First Presbyterian Church of Jamestown , New York

The Reverend Thomas A. Sweet

October 18, 2009

I have been much struck by an observation made in a brief article* read recently in our Aging & Saging Group entitled “Life Is Paradoxical.” In the essay, the writer maintains that it is not the sayings of Jesus that are paradoxical, not the gospel, but life itself, and that the genius of Jesus was that he knew it, preached it, and lived accordingly. That “life is paradoxical” had in it and has still “the ring of truth” and accounts in large part for the following that Jesus has engendered through the ages.

That is a really important insight, I think, because we live in a world in which many people think linearly, literally, and, dare I say it, limitedly. We are captains of the obvious and, as a result, we are also, at times, oblivious to life’s deeper truths. Christian writers like to say that the kingdom of God is an upside-down kingdom, as if it is somehow a different entity than the world, somehow over and against the world, somehow in competition with it as a better way. But I do not think that is so. The kingdom of God simply is true to the nature of life and to the way life works, and is reflective of a Creator who loves paradox.

A paradox is a statement or event that is at first bewildering, confusing, mystifying. A paradox is true in a surprising way because, in a linear, literal, limited view of the world it does not seem like it should be. For instance, it is not at all obvious that the meek will inherit the earth. Or that the last will be first. Or that a Messiah should suffer and die and in that way be a healing balm and an illuminating light for many people.

So it was that the disciples could not believe their ears when Jesus told them that he must and he would. In fact, in the section just before today’s gospel reading, Jesus told the disciples for the third time that he would die in Jerusalem . As one who has considerable skills in these areas myself, I can work up a smile for the disciples’ canny ability to avoid and deny. No sooner had Jesus warned the disciples that when they got to Jerusalem he would seized by the authorities, mocked, spit upon, flogged and condemned to death than two of the them, James and John, sidled up to him and said, “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you. Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.” So much for commiserating with Jesus or trying to comfort and console him. Paradox was so foreign to them that they could not even hear Jesus. They just wanted to consolidate their place and privilege so that when Jesus came into his kingdom, they, James and John, would have prominent positions in it.

All through the gospel according to Mark, whenever Jesus did any amazing deed, he told those who witnessed it not to tell anyone about it. Why? Because he did not want to play into the popular perceptions people had about what a messiah is and does. People expected that when the Messiah came, he would restore Israel and the Jews to the top of the world’s heap. Power being made perfect in weakness or a seed having to die in order to bear fruit were not the expectations the people or the disciples held for the Messiah, whom the disciples had decided Jesus was. But such is the paradoxical nature of life.

Do you remember a couple of decades ago when Archbishop Oscar Romero of El Salvador was threatened during the civil war in that country for siding with the poor in their struggle against the ruling oligarchy and he said, “If I am killed, I will rise again in the Salvadoran people” and that is what happened and it was the paradoxical power of his death and “resurrection” that fueled the peoples’ victory? Why? How? Because the kingdom of God is already here, Jesus told us. It is within us, Jesus said. And when our souls are stirred by what they experience as truth and justice, they respond in kind and with courage and power and hope. That is why we need to nurture the divine life of our soul, so that it knows when it is being addressed by the God who calls to it, to us.

James and John, misunderstanding the nature of the kingdom of God that Jesus came clarifying, were looking ahead to the advent of the kingdom they believed Jesus would bring about and wanted major cabinet roles in it: “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your life, in your glory.” What they did not comprehend was that the glory of Jesus was to be the glory of being crucified on a garbage pile between two criminals. Another case, perhaps, of “being careful what you ask for.”

Mark seems to be hitting a recurring theme in his gospel. Looking back to the passage you worked on here last Sunday with Don, a man ran up and knelt before Jesus and said, “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus replied, “You know the commandments: ‘You shall not murder; You shall not commit adultery; You shall not steal; you shall not bear false witness; You shall not defraud; You shall honor your father and mother.’” The man said, “Teacher, I have kept all these since my youth.” Then Jesus, looking on him, loved him, and so said to him, “But you lack one thing.”

I can hear the man’s objection. “What do I lack? I have credentials, money, education, sophistication, respect. What can I possibly lack?”

Jesus answered, “You lack poverty.** You have to give up the ‘stuff’ you think defines you so that you can receive the transforming love of God. Go give up your “stuff” and you will have made progress in the kingdom of God ; then come, follow me.” When the man heard Jesus, he was shocked (for that is often the nature of paradox) and he went away grieving, for he had a lot of “stuff.”

Paradoxically, it is often the “good” that gets in the way deepening our relationship with God. When we are broken down like the prodigal out there in some far ruinous country, when we are far away from “home,” so to speak, we know we have a problem and that we need to ask for mercy and wisdom. But the “good” can seduce us; it can cause us to think we are self-sufficient and have no need of God; it can tempt us to relegate God to being a cheerleader on the sidelines of our lives.

A parable that Luke tells says it perfectly: “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a respected Pharisee and the other a despised tax collector. The Pharisee was praying thus, ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, and adulterers, or even like that tax collector standing over there. I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.’ But the tax collector would not even look up to heaven, but was beating his breast and saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’ I tell you, this latter man went down to his home justified rather than the other; for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted.”

Ah, there is one of the most important words in the Christian life. Humility. “What is required of you, O mortal,” is the rhetorical question God poses in the book of Micah, “but to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with God.” Oh, it feels good when we draw attention to our generosity or charity; it feels good when your church splashes it blueprints across the front pages of a newspaper; it feels good when we keep the counsel of important people and are counted among the movers and shakers, but then, scripture says, hubris is its own reward. That is because, paradoxically, the way God made life to work is that in order to climb higher in any way that finally matters and makes a difference, one must step down. Paradoxically, Jesus says, greatness is not to be found in the heights but in the depths, not at the top but at the bottom. Those who are so concerned about climbing up the ladder will find God passing them on God’s way down.

“Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus,” St. Paul writes, “who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death – even death on a cross” (Philippians 2:5-8).

And in today’s gospel text: “Whoever wishes to be 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 (whom you would follow) came not to be served, but to serve…”

We cannot think ourselves into humility as in “I am going to be humble.” It is not like that. We cannot feel ourselves into humility as in “I am going to feel humble.” It is not like that. We surely cannot pride ourselves on our humility as in “Look at how humble I am.” It is not like that. We can only act our way into humility. We serve our way into humility.

So does all of this mean that we should not try to achieve to the best of our abilities or to use all of our gifts well or to be the best person we can be? Of course not. It means that, following Jesus, our lives are to be given as a ransom for many, in the service of many, so that they can be freed, unshackled, liberated from whatever debilitating or belittling circumstances mar their lives and humanity.

There was a stanza in the choir’s anthem today that says it well. I am going to ask the choir to sing it again.

‘Tis the gift to be simple, ‘tis the gift to be free,

‘Tis the gift to come down where you ought-a be,

And when we find ourselves in a place just right,

‘Twill be in the valley of love and delight.

“The valley of love and delight.” Do you see? We may be drawn to the mountaintop and we are conditioned to climb toward the rarified atmosphere of distinction and privilege, to the place where we are served. But, paradoxically, our heart’s fulfillment, life’s greatest blessings, and most especially God are to be found in the valley of life among the mass and mess of humanity where we may serve. The kingdom of God teaches us that, in life, we climb higher by stepping lower.

Amen.

*by Sir T. M. Taylor and included in John Baillie’s A Diary of Readings.

**I do not believe that this man’s lack is every person’s lack. The man in Jesus’ story lacked poverty. The appropriate question for us to ask is “What do I lack that keeps me from fuller participation in the kingdom of God ?”

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