Mark 9:30-37 – Sermon Revd David Marshall
St Ursula's, Bern, 19 September 2021

A remarkable thing about the gospels, and especially Mark's Gospel, to which we've just been listening, is that they describe the twelve disciples of Jesus as being really dumb. What's more, they are not just stupid and slow to learn; they are also self-obsessed and self-important. Jesus is frequently frustrated by how difficult he finds it to teach them, to lead them in his way. By the time the gospels were written, some years after the death and resurrection of Jesus, the disciples – or apostles, as they came to be known – were the respected pillars of the Church. So it's all the more striking that the gospel-writers did not give a glossy account of them as wise and holy from the start. What we in fact learn from the gospels is that Jesus did not call the twelve disciples because they were already promising material, showing great signs of wisdom and holiness. He was not like the scout of a rich football club, recruiting for his team all the most impressive young players out there and ignoring the second-rate. On the contrary, Jesus did not call the disciples because of what they were already like, but despite what they were like. He called them to transform them, to draw them into the long process of becoming like him.

I find this encouraging, because I'm a failure as a Christian. I make slow progress; in fact, I sometimes seem to go backwards. I am slow to understand, slow to change. I repeatedly fail in the same old ways. That can be depressing, but when I see that the disciples were also failures, rather like me, that gives me hope. The disciples were no better than you and me. Jesus did not call them because of what they already were, but because of what he was going to make of them. So let's learn from today's reading about the disciples, our fellow-failures, and about how Jesus patiently teaches them, and continues to call them along his way.

We are in the ninth chapter of Mark's Gospel, already past halfway, and the shadow of the cross that lies ahead is growing. Jesus wants to be alone with the disciples to teach them. Describing himself as 'the Son of Man', 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.' (Mark 9:31) Ahead of Jesus lie rejection, suffering and death. This is the way he must go. This is the way God is taking in the world in Jesus, and God will vindicate Jesus by raising him from the dead. Jesus says this to the disciples, but then we read: 'But they did not understand what he was saying and were afraid to ask him.' (9:32) Jesus tries to teach the disciples about the way God calls him to go, but his attempt fails, leaving the disciples confused and afraid.

This is not a minor theme in Mark's Gospel. Mark really, really stresses this point. In quick succession, in three consecutive chapters, the same basic thing happens three times. This is not an editorial slip. Mark didn't forget that he already told this story once and didn't need to tell it again. Through repetition, Mark is underlining that this is at the heart of his story about Jesus. Jesus explains three separate times to the disciples that ahead of him in Jerusalem he must undergo rejection and death, but God will raise him from the dead. And each time, the response of the disciples shows that they just do not get it. In chapter 8 Peter pushes back at Jesus, 'rebuking' him (8:32) – No, Master, that is not the way you must go. Here in chapter 9, they do not understand him and are afraid to ask questions, and then argue among themselves about who is the greatest. And then again, in chapter 10, they show how little they have absorbed about the way of Jesus by having another row about status (10:35-45).

But who can blame them? I've been hard on the disciples, calling them dumb, slow to learn. Let's think about their experience. Jesus is the anointed one. They know the utterly unique authority of his words; they have seen his power to heal, to drive out evil, to restore life to the dead; recently, Peter, James and John saw the light of God's glory pouring out of Jesus on the Mount of Transfiguration. If God is so obviously present and active in him, surely Jesus will triumph over all opposition?

So this talk by Jesus of suffering and death makes no sense. Peter and the other disciples cannot yet understand the full meaning of what God is doing in Jesus, and so they also cannot understand what this will mean for their own lives. They cannot yet see that God is present in Jesus to 'reconcile the world to himself' (2 Corinthians 5:19) and that this requires costly love on the part of God. They cannot yet see that the mission of God in Jesus requires the pouring out of divine life in self-sacrifice. And they cannot yet see that if at the heart of God, revealed to us in Jesus, there is this humble, self-giving love, then we too, who are made in the image of God, are called to become like God in self-giving humility.

Coming back to today's reading, let's see how this is reflected there. Jesus has told the disciples about the suffering that lies ahead of him, and they do not understand him, and are afraid to ask. Next we read: 'Then they came to Capernaum; and . . . he asked them, "What were you arguing about on the way?" But they were silent, for on the way they had argued with one another who was the greatest.' (9:33-34) They cannot grasp that the way of Jesus radically redefines human greatness. How frustrating it must be for Jesus that the disciples bicker self-importantly on the way about which of them is the greatest. Did what he taught them make no impact? How can he get through to them?

Jesus tries again, and he starts by using words. He says to them: 'Whoever wants to be first must be last . . . ' (9:35) Again and again, Jesus presents this challenging paradox: 'all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted' (Luke 14:11, 18:14). If you really want to be something, become nothing. You want to be great? Become small. Get it? Well, maybe sensing that his words are not getting through, Jesus turns from words to a visual aid: a child. He takes a little child in his arms 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.' (9:37)

You may wonder what exactly is the connection between what Jesus was saying about true greatness and what he now does with this child and the words he says about welcoming children. If the link doesn't seem so obvious to us, this may be because of the different way people thought about and related to children in Jesus' day. In that context, children were nonentities. Children lacked status and rights; they scarcely showed up on the radar screen of what mattered to adults. More than once, we see Jesus pushing back against the way people related to children. He honours them and pays attention to them in a way that surprises others – and that itself is an important subject for us to reflect on as we seek to re-establish our activities with children as an essential part of the life of our church. But for now, trying to understand what is going on in this scene with Jesus, the disciples and the little child, the point is that as people of their day, the disciples are likely not to have thought 'How sweet!' when Jesus brought this child to the centre of their discussion, but 'How inappropriate! How embarrassing!'

Jesus has just been talking about becoming 'last' in order to become 'first'. Now, by bringing the little child into the centre, he is showing the disciples what it might mean in practice to become 'last'. You do not become great, Jesus says, by sharp-elbowed grasping after status; rather, you become great by becoming last, and you become last by welcoming those who are 'least', by standing with and honouring those who are 'least' in the world's eyes. And when you do that, says Jesus, you welcome me, and so you also welcome God, the God who shows his true greatness in humility.

Have the disciples got it this time? Doubtless they nod: 'Yes, Master, point taken. From now on, we really, really, really, will be very humble, all the time.' But no, they haven't got it, because before long the disciples will again be clashing over status (10:35-45), and at their next opportunity to welcome children, and so welcome Jesus, they again fail dismally (10:13-16).

So who are those who are 'least' in our world today? Who are those we are called to welcome, in welcoming whom we are welcoming Jesus, and so welcoming the God who sent Jesus? We might respond in various ways, but one obvious answer is that refugees are the 'least' in today's world. A sharp difference of perspective on how Christians should think about refugees was evident recently when Pope Francis visited Hungary and met Prime Minister Viktor Orban. Orban claims to be defending the Christian character of Hungary by keeping refugees out. In contrast, Pope Francis, with refugees clearly in mind, made a fundamental statement about the God we know in Jesus, saying: 'The cross, planted in the ground, not only invites us to be well-rooted: It also raises and extends its arms towards everyone.' Of course, to say that does not answer every question of how nations should determine their refugee-policies, which will need to balance many considerations. But the Pope is right to say that if we want to talk about expressing Christian values in public life, we must keep at the heart of our thinking that the greatness of God is defined by Jesus Christ, crucified for the salvation of the world. How does the humility of God in Jesus Christ shape the way we relate to others? And so how might it also shape the way the nations of the world relate to each other?

Jesus calls us to follow in his way. He constantly reminds us of the gloriously counter-intuitive truth that only by losing our lives will we find them. And if we wonder what this will actually mean and how we can begin to follow this way, we need not worry, because opportunities will come to us today, tomorrow, every day. Opportunities to welcome those who are 'least' in our world; opportunities to opt out of the mad struggles for status which suck us in. We will of course fail these tests repeatedly, just as the disciples did. But we get up, and we carry on, and we encourage each other on the way of Jesus. Because just as Jesus did not give up on his disciples, despite all their stupidity and self-importance, so he does not give up on us. He calls us to share his life, to become like him; and in the end, we will.

David Marshall