Proud to be Humble

 Sermon text   Mark 10:35-45

 

            I was on a call committee for my congregation a number of years ago. During the interviews, we spent a long time probing the candidates’ qualifications and skills and background and theology. At the close of one of the interviews, the candidate startled us by leaning forward in his chair, banging both fists on the table and declaring emphatically:

            “I highly recommend me!”

     I’ve often wondered what the response of Salem’s call committee would have been if I had said that. The statement drew a split reaction from the committee. Some really liked it, as a show of confidence and authority. That’s what people are looking for in a pastor these days: a take-charge guy who could inspire people, who knows how to sell himself and in so doing can sell the Gospel.

 

            Some of us found that statement unsettling, and I suspect that the Gospel story for today is big part of what caused the discomfort. I know that prospective job seekers are strongly urged to “sell yourself” during an interview. But isn’t there some degree to which humility is a virtue? Are confidence and humility mutually exclusive? Where does humility fit into the picture in the modern world?

 

            In today’s Gospel, the sons of Zebedee, James and John, went with the bold, aggressive, take-charge approach to career advancement. These two disciples noticed a little void at the top of their organizational flow chart. How about a chief of staff or a couple of lieutenants to put a little structure in the pecking order? Maybe even, dare we say, princes?

            Bursting with confidence, James and John came to Jesus with their suggestion that he take his best and most trusted disciples and elevate them to a position that recognized their skills and contributions. Of course, they had a couple of candidates in mind to fill these slots as the megadisciples. “We highly recommend us,” they said. 

 

            This episode is so out of place in the ministry of Jesus that it makes us cringe to read it, like fingernails scraping a chalkboard. How dense can the brothers be?

 

            Remember, only one chapter prior to this, the disciples were trash-talking as they traveled on the road, each claiming to be the greatest of the disciples. When Jesus called them on it, they were so ashamed of what they had been doing that they wouldn’t even admit it at first.

            Jesus came down hard on that kind of behavior. We don’t do that. That’s not who we are. We’re here to be servants. The first shall be last.

 

            After that dressing down, and the clear explanation of why it was necessary, you would think everyone learned the lesson. But no, here come the Zebedee boys again, gunning for the top spot, their hearts set on being the greatest disciples, as if they had not heard a word that Jesus said.   

 

            First they come to him with this shocking, laughable request. “Jesus, we want you to do whatever we ask.”

            They do not come with a specific request; they come with a blank check for Jesus to sign. They do not even have the decency to phrase their concern in the form of a polite question: “Would you consider an idea we have been tossing around?” No, it’s, “We want you to do whatever we ask. Give us whatever we want. We want you to promise to give it even before we tell you what it is.”

 

            You wonder how Jesus kept his jaw from hitting the ground. He probably didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. But he keeps it together and calmly goes along for the moment.

 

            “Oh, and what would you like me to do for you?”

 

            “Here’s the plan,” say these confident wheelers and dealers. “Let one of us sit at your right hand and the other at your left in glory.”

 

            How about a little finesse guys! If you want to close a major deal like this, you should at least pretend you have some motivation other than pure, naked greed. But they don’t. They make no bones about it. They don’t claim any interest in a position of higher responsibility so they can be of better service to Jesus, they say right out that they are looking for more glory. They want to bask in praise, they want people bowing down to them, they want to be superstars in Jesus’ world.

 

            You wonder how Jesus kept his temper. How did he avoid saying, “Alright, that’s it. You two are gone. This little stunt you pulled is the last straw. You obviously don’t get it. I can’t work with you. Pack your bags and get off the premises.”

 

            But he didn’t. Instead, he told them, “You don’t know what you’re asking. This isn’t all fun and games. Do you really think you can handle a promotion like that, and all that comes with it?”

 

            “Yes, sir, you bet we can,” they declare. These are go-getters and you get the sense that they are so self-absorbed that they think they just might be able to close the deal.

 

            But then Jesus denied the request. “You want to share the glory, huh? Well, James and John, that’s just not something I can do. It’s not in the plan. You see, the purpose of my coming here to live among you was not to set up an elite group of miniCaesars who get all sorts of power and privileges and praise and who get to lord it over everyone else. I can’t give you what you want; I can only bring you a message of love and salvation.”

 

 

 

 

            What he didn’t spell out but let hang in the air was the terrible irony of their request. There’s an East African saying that when the gods really want to punish you, they give you what you want. That is to say, we humans aren’t very good at knowing what is best for us.

 

            James and John wanted to be the ones on Jesus’ right and left sides. They thought that would be really cool, and besides that, they deserved it.

 

            They seemed to have no clue that Jesus was going to end up on a cross at Calvary, and that if Jesus granted them their request to be on his right and on his left, it would not be the endless victory lap that they imagine; they are going to be on crosses.

 

            Despite the audacity and the selfishness of the brothers’ request, Jesus didn’t ream them out the way he sometimes did with the Pharisees. He had already scolded them for this ego trip mentality, back in chapter 9. He explained the problem with looking out for #1. Obviously, that was not effective. This time, he let consequences teach the lesson. 

 

            When the other disciples got word that James and John had tried to put themselves ahead of everyone else in the kingdom of God, what happened? Mark tells us they became indignant. James and John sowed the seeds of anger and resentment and jealousy. Bitter emotions that if allowed to continue unchecked could have torn apart the disciples. As it was, I imagine it was a long time before the other disciples wanted to eat lunch with the Zebedee boys. And this was just for suggesting a promotion. Imagine the resentment and jealousy if James and John would have gotten their way, and become the megadisciples.

 

            Jesus let them all stew in that anger and resentment and jealousy for a bit, and then called them together. Now do you see what I have been talking about, he said. Do you see what pride and self-promotion lead to? Do you like all this infighting and bickering? You can have that world; or you can have the love and salvation.

 

            James and John misunderstand the goal of life. They think the goal is to be served. That puts the focus solely on self. Whenever we focus on self, bad things happen. Bad things happen because focus on self destroys community, it destroys relationship, it destroys love. Humility is a gift from God that keeps us from that destructive behavior.

 

            This is countercultural for us, saturated as we are in the phenomena of advertising, promotion, and obsession with celebrity.

 

            We are relentlessly bombarded by commercials in which people tell us how great they and their products are. We live in a world in which chewing gum is touted as awesome; in which people just can’t say enough great things about their toilet bowl cleaner. I worked for a long time in the world of publishing, and it was discouraging how often success in that field hinges on how loudly and how often you can tell people how brilliant you are. Celebrities who get the most attention are so often the most shameless, egotistical self-promoters.

 

            If we go along with the culture of promotion and celebrity, we at Salem should an ad campaign that goes something like this:

            “Come to Salem. We are simply the greatest servants of God that exist in the world today. We can’t say enough good things about ourselves. We know you’ll be as impressed as we are with our intelligence and scholarly wisdom. It brings tears to our eyes when we think of the incredible amount of compassion that we show toward others. When our pastor preaches, you’ll swear you’re hearing the voice of God in person, and our worship services are so inspiring they will make your knees tremble in awe and wonder. If you live to be a thousand, you’ll never encounter another congregation as pure and motivated and infused with God’s spirit as Salem Lutheran. Come and join the closest thing to perfection in this world that God allows.

            P.S. Besides all that, we are the humblest people on the planet.”

 

            I don’t know; maybe that kind of campaign would increase attendance. But the Gospel lesson shows that it could cost us our soul.

 

            The Gospel lesson shows us the gift of humility.

 

            There are no gods on this earth; humility helps us remember that.

            We were not put on earth to raise ourselves above other people and collect as much praise and glory as we can; humility helps us avoid the temptation to do that.

            We were not given life so that we could spend our time focusing on ourselves and thereby miss out on the gifts of community, relationship, and love; humility steers us away from that.

 

            We often get the wrong idea about humility.

            I used to get a kick out of interviews with a high school football coach in NW Wisconsin. He is a fantastic coach but to listen to him talk, his team was the most pathetic, inexperienced, unathletic group of humans ever assembled. They would have to play a perfect game just to stay on the field with the opposition. Every week he made you think that, for the physical safety of his players, the game should probably be called off, but they would show up and try their best. Then they would go out and stomp the other team 63-0. This happened every week.

            Humility is not about flattery, false modesty, or pretending to be worthless.

 

            Nor does humility require us to fawn and grovel or walk around bowing and scraping with a “Kick Me” sign on our backs, as if we are inferior beings. Jesus showed us how to be humble, and he didn’t do it by drifting around. His was an active, confident, courageous, joyful ministry.

 

 

 

 

 

            The key to whole humility thing is first part of James and John’s statement. “Jesus, we want you to do whatever we ask.” That sounds unbelievable arrogant, but really, isn’t that how many of us pray. Prayer exists mainly for the purpose of granting our wishes, and when God doesn’t come through, we get angry or feel hurt or betrayed. What we want is for everyone, including God, to serve us. We place ourselves at the center of the universe. And we see where that leads.

 

            If God really wanted to punish us, God would have just stepped aside and let us go down that path. In the case of James and John, he might even have given them a little shove.

 

            But God did not choose punishment. God chose to serve, to pay a steep price to provide what is necessary for us to live with God and with each other in peace and fulfillment. God has chosen to serve, because that is how community and relationship and love get going, and that is what God is all about.

 

            Humility is a gift that guides us away from the dangerous and destructive allure of self-obsession and into the life of service that draws us into the embrace of God.

In its simplest form, humility is nothing more or less than the acknowledgment that I am not at the center of the universe; that God is. And knowing the truth of that statement is what gives us hope for the future.