Karen Hollis Sermon - Mark 9: 30-37

Sermon, Announcements, Prayers of the People, Proverbs 31 modern by Karen

Karen Hollis Sermon – Mark 9:30-37 September 23, 2018  

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O God, our Rock and our Redeemer. Amen.  

Imagine you’re in a small group of adults having a conversation. What happens when a child enters into an interaction? They sometimes add a little chaos, they can break the tension in the air, remind us of what’s important.  

Children don’t follow the same rules as adults and their presence draws us in – what is it about them that we find so inviting? Remembering that time of innocence, when the passing of time meant nothing when we were oblivious to social status when the world was even more wondrous and amazing? What do you remember from childhood? Playing endlessly? Family dynamics or circumstances? Friends? Imagination? Climbing trees? Being asked to sit politely and be seen and not heard?  

I remember having the run of our street – there were two other families on the block with kids and we would live at each other’s houses, ride bikes in the street. One time Hannah’s family got a couple of fishing poles, and we spent a whole afternoon casting the lines from her porch into the street. Our memories of what it was like to be a child are not as clear as they once were as we get older, but we get a clearer glimpse of it when we spend time with children.  

A friend of mine was home one day, hanging out with his 2-year-old. Someone knocked on the door, and as he stood in the doorway talking to the person, his toddler picked up mom’s water bottle, took it over to the guest and offered them water. My friend felt like a real shmuck for not having been more hospitable and was simultaneously humbled by the wisdom of his young son. “I don’t know where he learned that,” he said, “but unfortunately I don’t think it was from me.” It’s entirely possible he just thought of it on his own.  

Jesus knows the wisdom of a young child, a return to innocence, a return to the things that are important to God and should be important to us. It’s so good to have children in our lives to teach us those lessons again in our adulthood because we can get pretty far out there.   Have you ever had a conversation that later you thought, what was I thinking? Where was my heart? Where were my values?   For the disciples, the questionable conversation happens on the road to Capernaum. Once they come back into Galilee, after their travels, Jesus gives the second of three predictions of his death. Just a little bit of background . . . it’s important that this prediction happens in Galilee because that’s their home, it’s on their turf. It highlights the centrality of this message in the gospel.  

These three passion predictions are based on the actual memory of Jesus’ death and resurrection . . . it was the early church tradition to put these words on Jesus’ lips. And this particular prediction is the simplest, which means it’s probably the oldest. So Mark’s community, perhaps reflected in the behaviour of the disciples, are trying to make sense of why Jesus had to die and be raised, and the implications for them. But, the disciples are afraid to ask . . . perhaps they are trying to decode his message . . . Jesus usually teaches in parables, so what is the hidden message here?  

Jewish theology could also be playing into their silence. The belief among the Jews is that God will raise everyone up together at the end of the age . . . but what Jesus is describing doesn’t sound like the end times, because only Jesus is being raised . . . so they start talking amongst themselves, wondering about the implications for them of Jesus’ death and resurrection. What will happen to us? Will we be raised up with him? “Well, maybe I’ll be raised with him because I’m the greatest.” “No, I’m the greatest.” All of this after Jesus tells them he’s going to offer his very life.   This reflects the more selfish tendencies we humans have . . . but they are certainly not the most flattering . . . even embarrassing.

I know something about that, being a 4 on the Enneagram – the Enneagram is an in-depth and very helpful system for identifying personal characteristics and tendencies. Learning about it has helped me over the years claim more of who I am and be honest about who I am. We can be honest about our more unflattering parts and come out the other side.   Those who are familiar with the Enneagram will remember the 4 as the artistic type that believes they are unique, special, one of a kind. We love praise and being lifted up as important. There are some lovely qualities to the 4, but these are not my favourite in me.

I have ways of dealing with myself when I sense thoughts of needing to feel special rising up: listening, affirming, being honest with myself, setting boundaries with myself, thus mitigating the need to actualize this need on the outside . . . even better to transform this need into service. Thanks be to God that we learn and grow because I didn’t know how to do any of that when I was young. Growing does have its advantages.  

After the disciples are kind of caught in their small-minded conversation, Jesus actually responds to them in a relatively gentle way. He says, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” And then instead of lecturing them about it, he shows them what he means.   By physically putting a child in their midst, he is able to communicate more to them than he can with words, as they experience the child in the moment. Children are not only magical and have a connection to God we can no longer remember; in Jesus’ day children have no rights. Without a family to protect them, there are no laws to protect them, and social rules don’t protect them . . . they are the least of these.   Sounds like some places in the world today. They represent for the disciples all who are on the margins, who are mentally ill, who because of personal circumstances can’t support themselves, who are disabled, who are immigrants who don’t speak the language.  

By putting a child before them Jesus gives them the opportunity to feel in their bodies what it was like to welcome that child, to imprint that feeling in them. They feel the connection between welcoming that child and the orientation of their hearts, and they learn that this feeling is an indicator that they are showing true hospitality to God. "Whoever welcomes one such [person on the margins] in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me."  

This second time Jesus predicts his death and resurrection he brings the primary message of Mark’s gospel front and centre. While as Christians we proclaim we are baptized with Christ and will be raised with Christ, the core of his message is quite different here. The greatest thing we can do to serve God and be faithful to Jesus’ message is to serve the least of these. Serve like Mother Theresa, who would routinely leave the company of foreign dignitaries to care for a person in need; she didn’t feel a clear connection to God for much of her life, yet knew her call and followed it.   Many of us have children in our lives – they are a handful and a blessing and we give thanks for the gifts we receive from them and hope those gifts are mutual.

I pray the children in our lives and the children in our midst can be constant reminders to us of Jesus’ call to serve. Let us open ourselves to see God’s face in the face of every child we see and be reminded the greatest thing we can do is serve . . . thanks be to God.