The Answer is "Blue"
Sermon Text for Oct. 15: Mark 9: 30-37
A group of seekers walked into the pastor’s study to enquire about the about the truth. The pastor was quite surprised because this almost never happens. People come into the study to tell us there is no soap in the men’s room or that the carpet in the nursery needs to be cleaned again. Sometimes someone will come in to tell us about a family problem, but it almost never happens that someone comes in and says, “Tell me about the Truth” or even “Tell me about Jesus.”
You will understand that this pastor was taken by surprise, and for a moment he didn’t know what to say. But then as if he was filled with inspiration, his thoughts became words and he began to talk about Truth. He noticed that from time to time his visitors nodded in recognition, made notes, and whispered quietly among themselves. When he had talked for a while, he paused and asked, “Which part of the Truth excites you the most?” They looked at each other as if they were deciding who should answer, and the leader said, “Blue.”
The pastor was crestfallen. Their answer was completely non-responsive. They had not understood anything. “Blue!” He repeated the word to himself for the rest of the afternoon. The answer is “Blue!”
Many years ago when I was just out of seminary, I had an experience which started out amazingly affirming but which left me dismayed. I was serving as a supply pastor for the summer, and sometime around the Fourth of July I preached a sermon on one of my favorite subjects, the separation of Church and State. I got a lot of positive feedback, so I knew I had touched at least some of the people in the church. A few days later I was visiting with the organist and she quoted parts of my sermon word for word. I couldn’t believe it! Just knowing that someone was listening that carefully was incredible affirming. I knew I had done a good job until she said, “But you didn’t really mean that did you?”
In our gospel lesson Jesus and the disciples are moving steadfastly toward Jerusalem where Jesus would fulfill his destiny. As the story begins Jesus and the disciples are alone on the road, and he takes the opportunity to tell them some horrid news. It is the third and last time Jesus would tell them essentially the same thing. He tells them that when they arrive in Jerusalem he is going to be betrayed (by one of them, because no one else could do it), arrested, tried, killed and the he will rise again. If Jesus had asked the disciples what part of this truth moved them the most, they might have answered “blue”. They are completely disconnected from the story, and didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.
The disciples’ inability to grasp the truth worries me a lot. I worry that I might miss the point of the gospel also. What if Jesus’ message is delivered with complete clarity and I just don’t get it?
We know that the disciples missed the point a lot. In this story, Jesus teaches them about complete and utter defeat and their minds conjure up glorious victory. Jesus teaches them about cruel and painful death and they are actually arguing about who gets to be second in command. When they arrived in Capernaum Jesus asked the disciples what they were arguing about as they journeyed. And the bible says that they were silent, because they had argued with one another about which one of them was the greatest. And this is a subject that doesn’t interest Jesus at all.
The disciples knew that. Jesus never played games to decide who was best. He simply didn’t care. He was never interested in who was the greatest, but rather who served well. He was not interested in any form of self aggrandizement. And he was not at all interested in some hierarchy of importance among those who were about to become the church.
When Jesus asked what they had been talking about on the road, the disciples were embarrassed into silence. They knew that Jesus knew what they were talking about. He gathered the twelve around him and said, “Whoever wants to be first among you must be the last of all and the servant of all.” The only competition among God’s people is to see who serves best. But no one will ever know because followers of Jesus serve as naturally as we breathe.
Letting go of games to prove who is best is a part of our conversion process. Most of the battles in which we engage have something to do with who has the most power – who is most important. And the games begin in infancy. A toddler might grab all of the toys on the table and shut another child out, to prove who is dominant. The toddler doesn’t know it but it’s a power game.
A thirteen year old comes in looking sad and angry. An older boy has just convinced all of the other kids to go somewhere with him. It’s a power play only this time the people involved know it.
Ministers in the church have a hard time sharing our frustration and pain with one another because we don’t want to appear weak. It’s a power game.
Spouses spend their whole lives working out who gets his or her way in a given situation. It's a power game.
In the church some people always insist that their way is the right way and they are not above manipulating others to make sure that everyone else also knows how right they are. It's a power game.
It was a very important day in my life when I figured out that even on the most important issues I could still say to others, “I disagree, but how can I help you?” Or maybe, “I think this is the wrong way to go, but I will love and help you because I believe that you are a beloved child of God.” That’s when I realized that I could be a reconciler instead of a fighter. I do not have to be most dominant or important.
Jesus illustrates the point by placing a small child in the center of the circle of disciples. He took the child in his arms and said, “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.”
In Jesus' day, no one was less important or had less power than a child. Some writers go so far as to say that a child was not even considered a person until he or she reached puberty. The idea of welcoming a child as opposed to simply tolerating him or her was strange indeed. And the idea of embracing child was even more strange. But in this living parable Jesus demonstrates the importance of those who are unimportant; the inherent value in being the one who is vulnerable. In Jesus’ world view the one who serves is more important than the one who is served. But the one who serves is oblivious to his or her importance.
If we accept what the world teaches us (like the disciples’ did) we will continue to compete to see who is most important. And our response to the gospel and this sermon might simply be, “blue”.
Copyright © 2006 by Dwight R. Blackstock
A group of seekers walked into the pastor’s study to enquire about the about the truth. The pastor was quite surprised because this almost never happens. People come into the study to tell us there is no soap in the men’s room or that the carpet in the nursery needs to be cleaned again. Sometimes someone will come in to tell us about a family problem, but it almost never happens that someone comes in and says, “Tell me about the Truth” or even “Tell me about Jesus.”
You will understand that this pastor was taken by surprise, and for a moment he didn’t know what to say. But then as if he was filled with inspiration, his thoughts became words and he began to talk about Truth. He noticed that from time to time his visitors nodded in recognition, made notes, and whispered quietly among themselves. When he had talked for a while, he paused and asked, “Which part of the Truth excites you the most?” They looked at each other as if they were deciding who should answer, and the leader said, “Blue.”
The pastor was crestfallen. Their answer was completely non-responsive. They had not understood anything. “Blue!” He repeated the word to himself for the rest of the afternoon. The answer is “Blue!”
Many years ago when I was just out of seminary, I had an experience which started out amazingly affirming but which left me dismayed. I was serving as a supply pastor for the summer, and sometime around the Fourth of July I preached a sermon on one of my favorite subjects, the separation of Church and State. I got a lot of positive feedback, so I knew I had touched at least some of the people in the church. A few days later I was visiting with the organist and she quoted parts of my sermon word for word. I couldn’t believe it! Just knowing that someone was listening that carefully was incredible affirming. I knew I had done a good job until she said, “But you didn’t really mean that did you?”
In our gospel lesson Jesus and the disciples are moving steadfastly toward Jerusalem where Jesus would fulfill his destiny. As the story begins Jesus and the disciples are alone on the road, and he takes the opportunity to tell them some horrid news. It is the third and last time Jesus would tell them essentially the same thing. He tells them that when they arrive in Jerusalem he is going to be betrayed (by one of them, because no one else could do it), arrested, tried, killed and the he will rise again. If Jesus had asked the disciples what part of this truth moved them the most, they might have answered “blue”. They are completely disconnected from the story, and didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.
The disciples’ inability to grasp the truth worries me a lot. I worry that I might miss the point of the gospel also. What if Jesus’ message is delivered with complete clarity and I just don’t get it?
We know that the disciples missed the point a lot. In this story, Jesus teaches them about complete and utter defeat and their minds conjure up glorious victory. Jesus teaches them about cruel and painful death and they are actually arguing about who gets to be second in command. When they arrived in Capernaum Jesus asked the disciples what they were arguing about as they journeyed. And the bible says that they were silent, because they had argued with one another about which one of them was the greatest. And this is a subject that doesn’t interest Jesus at all.
The disciples knew that. Jesus never played games to decide who was best. He simply didn’t care. He was never interested in who was the greatest, but rather who served well. He was not interested in any form of self aggrandizement. And he was not at all interested in some hierarchy of importance among those who were about to become the church.
When Jesus asked what they had been talking about on the road, the disciples were embarrassed into silence. They knew that Jesus knew what they were talking about. He gathered the twelve around him and said, “Whoever wants to be first among you must be the last of all and the servant of all.” The only competition among God’s people is to see who serves best. But no one will ever know because followers of Jesus serve as naturally as we breathe.
Letting go of games to prove who is best is a part of our conversion process. Most of the battles in which we engage have something to do with who has the most power – who is most important. And the games begin in infancy. A toddler might grab all of the toys on the table and shut another child out, to prove who is dominant. The toddler doesn’t know it but it’s a power game.
A thirteen year old comes in looking sad and angry. An older boy has just convinced all of the other kids to go somewhere with him. It’s a power play only this time the people involved know it.
Ministers in the church have a hard time sharing our frustration and pain with one another because we don’t want to appear weak. It’s a power game.
Spouses spend their whole lives working out who gets his or her way in a given situation. It's a power game.
In the church some people always insist that their way is the right way and they are not above manipulating others to make sure that everyone else also knows how right they are. It's a power game.
It was a very important day in my life when I figured out that even on the most important issues I could still say to others, “I disagree, but how can I help you?” Or maybe, “I think this is the wrong way to go, but I will love and help you because I believe that you are a beloved child of God.” That’s when I realized that I could be a reconciler instead of a fighter. I do not have to be most dominant or important.
Jesus illustrates the point by placing a small child in the center of the circle of disciples. He took the child in his arms and said, “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.”
In Jesus' day, no one was less important or had less power than a child. Some writers go so far as to say that a child was not even considered a person until he or she reached puberty. The idea of welcoming a child as opposed to simply tolerating him or her was strange indeed. And the idea of embracing child was even more strange. But in this living parable Jesus demonstrates the importance of those who are unimportant; the inherent value in being the one who is vulnerable. In Jesus’ world view the one who serves is more important than the one who is served. But the one who serves is oblivious to his or her importance.
If we accept what the world teaches us (like the disciples’ did) we will continue to compete to see who is most important. And our response to the gospel and this sermon might simply be, “blue”.
Copyright © 2006 by Dwight R. Blackstock
2 Comments:
Dwight, you have touched my heart, reminded me of what is essential and what not. So often that need to be recognized for what you do or say just gets the better of you...it's not always easy to remember "blue". Of course the color blue in therapy terms often suggests "control"! Interesting, eh?!
Annie
But we want so much to be recognized for what we have done, or as kind or clever, or for something--anything. It is hard to give it all up. Maybe it is easier to be a "follower," trudging along behind Jesus than an "understander" who gets it and lives the Jesus way (or at least tries to). djb
Post a Comment
<< Home