My days for most of
this coming week are going to be quite different, and I hope, quite intellectually
energizing. I will be attending alumni
reunion lectures and workshops at Princeton Seminary. Somehow, it’s been fifteen years since I
completed my Master’s degree there, and for no particular reasons, I’ve never
gone back for any alumni events. But
this year, the seminary is joyfully celebrating its bicentennial. As part of this, they have secured a visit
from a truly world-renowned New Testament scholar. This is what caught my attention, given
that I consult his writings fairly often.
So from 8:30 A.M.
until 10:30 A.M. this coming Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, I’ll be seated and
listening to Dr. Tom Wright in what I’m certain will be a full house. Given his considerable status as a New
Testament scholar, I have to chuckle that he more often goes by his first initials,
N.T.! And that his last name makes it
sound like he’s correct – that he is right -- all the time. This Anglican bishop, Oxford educated
university professor, and prolific author hails from Northumberland,
England. Suffice to say, I’m very glad
the alumni event gives me a chance to hear and meet him directly while only
having to travel less than an hour from home.
You don’t get to be
world-renowned in any field of study by always playing it safe, by only tritely
rehashing conventional wisdom. While
many such folks work toward this reputation by being consistently
controversial, I find that N.T. Wright’s teaching has a wonderful balance
between faithful uplift and challenging edge.
For example, the lecture series about the Gospels I’ll be listening to
this week is called “The Forgotten Kingdom.”
I’m eagerly wondering what he’ll be saying we, as members of the
universal Church, keep forgetting about our Lord’s reign given that we are
supposed to be continuously helping expand it to God’s glory.
I already do have a good idea of what he’ll be
saying, though, because I’m in the middle of reading his 2011 book,
intriguingly titled, Simply Jesus.
What I believe he’s going to
mention is captured in Chapter Six, which talks about how skepticism has been
the general mood in Western Society toward Jesus’ holy reign and claim on our
lives and the whole world. Why this
general attitude of doubt, of disbelief?
Wright argues that it has to do with our very human, sin-rooted
reluctance to sacrifice our tightly held worldly notions of power and
glory. We get skeptical when we feel
threatened. We reject certain Christian
claims when they call for greater degrees of sacrifice. Here’s how he frames it –
“By all means, people
think, let Jesus be a soul doctor, making people feel better inside. Let him be a rescuer, snatching people away
from this world to ‘heaven.’ But don’t
let him tell us about a God who actually does things in the world. We might have to take that God seriously, just
when we’re discovering how to run the world our own way.” Then, speaking about the Gospels, he writes,
“So where does the story lead? It leads
straight to the announcement that Jesus was making: God’s in charge now – and
this is what it looks like!”[i]
Today’s Gospel lesson
from Mark is very clear what Jesus taught about God being in charge. It does so by letting us in on an intense
conversation Jesus had with his disciples.
This conversation was started by James and John, who were brothers Jesus
nicknamed, “The Sons of Thunder.” There
are a few possible reasons why they earned this nickname, none of them
conclusive. But as today’s lesson
reveals, they may well have had a certain strong-headedness about them. The conversation, after all, started with
them making a bold demand of Jesus – “We want you to do for us whatever we ask
of you.” Addressing their holy teacher
in this self-assured way sure sounds like a thunderclap to me! One article I read this week compared it to
“all the directness of a two-year-old who has neither learned to say Please nor to sugarcoat his settled
assumption that, of course, the world revolves around Me.”[ii]
We might expect Jesus to
have responded with what would have been a much more severe thunderclap. This is what powerful people can do,
right? They can use their greater social
status and authoritative voice to hold insubordinate talk in check. Yet,
as if he did not have any idea where the conversation was headed, he simply
replied, “What is it you want me to do for you?”
I love this about
Jesus. How he responds by graciously
leading us deeper into holy truth.
The boom brothers replied
that they wanted him to guarantee them seats of power right next to his when he
fully achieves his holy reign. Now, we have to understand that they expected
his glorious rule to be like that of powerful worldly rulers. They expected Pharoah Jesus. King Jesus.
Emperor Jesus. And if true to
their nickname, the tone of this want, this expectation, was laced with
outright demand. All that time and
talent given to following and defending Jesus … it all had to lead to powerful
position. To their own personal glory.
We can’t really blame them for demanding this
security, this reward. They knew much
about being oppressed. They were Jews
living as a minority population under the somewhat tolerant but otherwise
oppressive thumb of the massive Roman Empire.
And they were Jews that by choosing to follow Jesus, were dangerously breaking
from the strict rules and regulations established and defended by their Temple
authorities. It was too risky, too
radical for James and John, among many others, to expect Jesus to do anything
but topple, take down, and forcefully reveal the full measure of God’s glory to
the prevailing rulers of the day.
What they didn’t
really realize, despite Jesus’ repeatedly speaking about it, is that his ultimate
power and glory cannot be understood apart from his identity as the Son of
Man. This is the only title Jesus used
to refer to himself. He did not go
around touting that he is a new Pharoah, King, or Emperor. Nor did he go around declaring himself the
Son of God, the Messiah. According to
the Gospels, he instead refers to himself as Son of Man over seventy times.
One of the times is
right at the end of today’s passage from Mark.
There, Jesus directly defined Son
of Man as being the One who came to serve, and not to be served. To be
great in this world the way Jesus defined greatness, is to be what he himself
called a “slave to all.” To participate
in His power and glory, then, is to willingly enter into oppressions. It is to serve absolutely all who are in
need of being served. It is to give up self-glory.
And for Jesus only,
this meant doing so through the full measure of giving up his life up as a
ransom, as a loving sacrifice, for the sins of all humanity. To be glorified as the Son of God, the
Messiah, Christ our Lord, He had to first be the suffering servant, the liberating
one proclaimed in Isaiah’s prophesies.
James and John most
likely did not want to hear or accept having to follow this path to power. Gain power by sacrificially loving and living
with and serving social outcasts? By giving
up self-promotion and social privilege?
By meekness instead of might? By
recognizing and fighting for the universal “us” instead of the divisive
realties of “us and them?”
Notice in verse 39 of our
today’s passage in Mark that Jesus did grant them the answer they wanted. He promised they’d have the coveted
seats. Fulfillment on this promise,
however, came to both only after they entered into his way of shared
suffering.
If we believe God
really is in charge of the world through Jesus Christ our Lord, what is
expected of us? Everything that was
expected of and promised to James, John and all of the disciples. We are to measure God’s glory through our offering
sacrificial love in Jesus’ name.
For some disciples
throughout history, this has meant martyrdom.
James, we are told in Acts 12:2,
gained his seat next to Jesus when King Herod had him killed by a sword. In more recent times I think about the assassination
of Martin Luther King, Jr., who preached everyone can be great if they serve
one another and not let what he called our “drum major instinct” take over –
the part of us that desires to be out front, to lead the parade, to be first.[iii]
Martyrdom, of course,
is an extreme measure of discipleship.
There are lesser extremes that are no less important, that have every bit
as much power to proclaim the measure of God’s glory in Christ.
Taking up our crosses
-- walking in the Way of sacrificial love every day of our lives -- happens every
moment we make the faithful choice to compassionately companion other people through
their sorrows and sufferings.
It happens when we have
the faithful courage and conviction to speak up and take action against social
injustices.
It happens when we
schedule time in our busy lives to gather in a historic building for one hour
once a week to confess our sin and recommit to Christ who died for us, rose for
us, reigns in power for us, and prays for us.
It happens when we
support and celebrate the sharing of the Gospel throughout every
generation.
It happens when we let
go of worry about offending others and injuring aspects of our reputation by
politely, genuinely inviting people we know to church worship and events,
especially if we know they have long felt estranged from their faith
roots.
It happens when we take
an honest inventory of our greatest influences, especially those that teach us
to prioritize power that is not in accord with the teachings of Jesus Christ.
So I’m headed off this week to hear
world-class lectures about “The Forgotten Kingdom.” I eagerly suspect I’m going to feel humbled,
challenged, inspired. For this is what
happens when any of us are really reminded about the reign of Christ. Glory be to God. Amen.
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