Sermons from St Faith's
Top Dog or Underdog?
Fr Dennis Smith, October 21st, 2012
Most of us here this morning will probably never have had the
honour or distinction of being head-hunted for a job, but these
days it’s very much the fashion. Gone are the days when senior
executive posts were filled via adverts in the top people’s
papers. These days we turn to the specialists, whose job it is –
for a price – to seek out just the right candidate. And it’s not
an easy process. There are batteries of tests to determine
psychological fitness; past performance is carefully
investigated. The potential leaders are incisively questioned
about their abilities, relationships with colleagues, their
approaches to problems.
Now we may never be part of such an interviewing panel, but if
we were, before choosing the potential new king-pin, what if we
should throw in a few slightly different questions: What’s the
name of the man or woman who cleans your office? How many
children does your caretaker have? How much do you know about
the waiters in your favourite restaurant? And we could
disqualify those who couldn’t answer, because we would like to
live in a world where those who lead do so from a clear
understanding of, and respect for, those whose lives are
affected by their decisions. And just as important, a world
where those who make the big decisions realize that their ideas
are fruitless unless put into effect by those who clean the
floors, change the bedpans and fix the plumbing.
Of course to expect the great and good, or even us less great
and less good, to really take notice of those who serve us in so
many different ways, is a tough call in a society where many of
us can quote the intimate details of the lives of celebrities we
will never meet, but inhabit a wilderness community, bereft of
relationships with neighbours, colleagues and the host of people
who labour to make our lives bearable.
But time to turn to our story from Mark’s Gospel which we heard
a few minutes ago; a story typical of his retelling of Jesus’
ministry. Mark’s readers have come to know that there’s no
mistake, no failing that they can fall into, worse than those of
one or other of the first disciples.
So it is that here, confronted with Jesus’ reaffirmation that he
is going to Jerusalem not to be welcomed and crowned but to be
killed and to return from the dead, brothers James and John
decide that the moment has come to make their move. “Listen”,
they say, “when all the dust has settled and you take power, we
want to be your two top enforcers.” Can’t you almost hear Jesus
sigh?
Weeks, months, years on the road preaching that the Kingdom of
God isn’t like earthly kingdoms, telling everyone that the last
will be first, the meek shall inherit the earth – and what’s the
result? The disciples are still bickering about who will be the
most important.
Everyone wants to be the top dog, so it seems. And yet we know
that God loves the underdog. If Jesus it to be believed, in the
coming Kingdom all our ideas of who is great and who is
unimportant will be turned on their heads. People who build
their lives around simple acts of goodness without seeking
reward will be revealed to be head and shoulders higher in
stature than leaders and celebrities of all kinds, including the
Christian variety.
True greatness comes when we allow God to work in and through
and with us – when we work God’s works in the same way that
Jesus showed: lifting up the downtrodden, bringing relief to the
suffering, comfort to the distressed. Whatever we do, however
insignificant it may seem, out of love for our neighbours near
and far – God is in that act, and where God is, there is
greatness beyond imagination. And we cannot reflect upon today’s
Gospel without taking account of what Jesus says in it about the
role of suffering. “Can you drink from the same cup as me?” he
asks the two self-appointed candidates for greatness. “Yes we
can”, they reply, confidently. “Then you will”.
God does them the courtesy of taking them at their word – but
you have to wonder how they felt about that glib undertaking
when they saw just what a bitter cup Jesus was to drink.
We are skirting the edge of a mystery here – the relationship
between true greatness and suffering. It’s something to do with
matching up two truths: an uncomfortable match but true
nonetheless.
The first truth we’ve already seen, that God is in every act of
unselfish kindness, every time we connect in love with the need
of another. And the second truth is that in a suffering world,
it’s often only those who have themselves suffered who can truly
make that connection.
In times of suffering and tragedy many people say “I understand
how you feel”, but something inside us knows that however
well-meaning, it isn’t true. And then we hear the voice of the
one who says “I have been where you are” and we know that here
is a voice that can reach us. There are times in life when no
amount of sympathy from those who have not been to the depths
themselves will help. We need to feel the touch of one who has
suffered like us before we can find the way back. That’s true of
human beings and it’s true of God, who earned on the Cross the
right to speak to us in the moment of our deepest suffering. So
James and John will be given their chance for greatness, even if
they don’t understand at that moment what it will cost. And we
know that many others, people who would never have chosen that
path for themselves, have endured tragedy and turned it into the
opportunity to reach out to, to connect with, others who suffer.
That is the mystery – tragedy can destroy a person and yet it
can also be a path to true greatness. Those who set out to make
themselves great in the Kingdom are usually setting themselves
up for failure. Great servants of God usually only arrive at
that state after a long journey – and the very greatest don’t
even realize that they’ve arrived. Set out to be great and the
first spiritual banana skin we slip on will so humiliate that it
will probably be the end of our journey.
But God honours those who set out to be useful rather than
great. Any of us can share a drink, serve a cup of tea, clean up
the mess or find some time to listen for the sake of the love of
God and of our neighbour. We can do that little caring act that
makes a difference. And I suspect that other people, who
find it difficult to talk to us when we are full of our own
spiritual importance, might find us easier to take, easier to
talk to, easier to listen to if we approach them as God’s
bar-staff, God’s caretakers, God’s cleaners and God’s listeners
– you know, the people who really make the Kingdom of God
happen.
The sermons
index page
Return to St
Faith's home page