rosebuds

The way to greatness is not what the disciples expect. It is not about being welcomed as great, but about welcoming even the least and littlest. How are we doing that?

What Jesus teaches us, his fellow servants, in his second warning of the passion, of the suffering, betrayal, death, and resurrection of the Christ, is that to be greatest of all is to be servant of all. And, further, that the Messiah is the Suffering Servant. 

This is not what we signed up for, is it? The disciples seem to think that they are on the road to thrones of their own and crowns of their own. Yes, it will all work out: Revelation says so. But those crowns come after and through suffering - and not around it. The role of a disciple and its reward comes in sharing in the passion and death, and the resurrection, of the suffering servant, the teacher they have come to know as Christ.

Oblivious to what he has just said to them, again, that the son of man must suffer betrayal and death, before undergoing resurrection, they begin to quibble and bargain and argue over, of all things, who among them is greatest. 

And that is when Jesus calls to himself the last and least expected: a little child. Kids were nowhere in ancient times; in fact, in ancient and even more recent societies, they were seen as inconveniences, underpowered little adults at best. But here again, as he had at the feeding of the multitude with the offerings of a child, Jesus turns the expected order of things right side up.

They expect to be lauded as great; they are already planning ahead. Is this the day you will restore Israel? they breathe with anticipation: triumph is coming, and they will share in it. 

Not so fast.

Greatness comes through servanthood, the servanthood of the suffering servant. 

And it is in the Wisdom of Solomon, as well as in the prophet Isaiah, that we learn how that will go down.

A long mocking diatribe by the disbelievers tells of the evanescence of life, its sure end in oblivion. And so let us party today, for it is all we have. And mock those who live in hope.

Verse 8 (“Let us crown ourselves with rosebuds, before they be withered”) even anticipates the poet, who expresses their attitude very well:

Gather ye rose-buds while ye may,

Old Time is still a-flying;

And this same flower that smiles today

Tomorrow will be dying.

[Robert Herrick (1591-1674) ‘To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time’] 

The ungodly in despair or cynicism make a pact with death; attempting to befriend it. But they are deceived; they do not know that innocence would have its reward. The ways of God are hidden to them, a mystery, as secret as the Messiah - until that day they stand before his throne.

So there is a mystery. And an anticipation of Christ’s passion and the mockery he will endure.

“He threw himself on the Lord for rescue, let the Lord deliver him, for he holds him dear!” (Isaiah 57:8) 

“He trusted in God, did he? Let God rescue him, if he wants him - for he said he was God’s son.” (Matthew 27:43)

The ungodly reckon without justice and immortality. The Messiah comes among the people, bringing to them the hope of justice, proclaiming and enacting restoration - healing, casting out demons - and embodying the promise of immortality.

Jesus admonishes the oblivious even among his disciples. They don’t get it - yet. 

A child of God, a servant of God: like the least and little child Jesus ‘suffers’ to come unto him, the followers of Jesus are called to welcome the innocent, the unrewarding, those who can do nothing for them, certainly not worldly preferment or the best place in the kingdom of heaven.

The hard road that Jesus reveals, that he invites his disciples to travel with him, is the road, first to Jerusalem, with all it means, and then, through the Cross not around it, finally to glory.

May we learn to walk with him, and welcome even the least as we would welcome him, as we travel the Way with him.

O God, Wisdom of the universe,

you bear the pain of your people.

Grant us the gift of wisdom,

that we may discern your way

and live justly and graciously

amid the struggles of this world. Amen.

So far what we have said sounds very personal, appealing to each of us individually. But Scripture and the Word of God speak to us not simply as discrete persons, but as members of societies, as peoples of nations, and of course ultimately as the people of God.

In recent days it has been hard to leave unquestioned how we as a nation among modern nations have done. We have sought to change the world, even far away, and have done well and not so well, in recent days. 

Often the United States and Canada and western Europe and their friends respond most quickly to the needs of others, when war, civil strife, or natural disaster harm those near or far away. 

In the forefront of our minds in recent days has been the memorial anniversary of the terrorist attacks of twenty years ago, and their modern aftermath. The extremist hosts of terrorists are back in power, or the chaos we would have hoped to prevent is overwhelming our erstwhile friends.

Recently I read, with the sense of irony required, a recent book entitled, “Are We Rome? The Fall of an Empire and the Fate of America”. (2007) 

It is actually a hopeful book, calling us to be the best of ourselves. The author, Cullen Murphy, departs from the expected ‘compare and contrast’ exercise, pointing out where we can be our exceptional selves. 

Exceptional, not in the exclusive sense that we are still after all Top Nation, but that nations, peoples, and societies, can respond to the call to righteousness just as individual people, or congregations, do.

And in one particular way that comes home to us now. Like ancient Rome, modern America must respond to the influx of strangers across its borders. We here in the Southwest are well aware of the challenges facing those who cross, legally or illegally, the border through the desert from Mexico. 

We are also cognizant of the challenge facing America as it is called to welcome as refugees and new Americans its friends and allies from the fallen regime of Afghanistan.

Lutherans have been at the forefront of welcoming and resettling refugees for many years; along with Roman Catholics, secular agencies, and others.

Now once again on a national scale and perhaps even a local level, it is time to receive the stranger, the innocent and the not-so-innocent, as we would welcome Christ himself. For as we do, we welcome him, and the One who sent him.

Not all cute little kids; not all happy. But all the children of God, as are we.

May we with wisdom indeed welcome them as Christ welcomes us.

O God, our teacher and guide,

you draw us to yourself

and welcome us as beloved children.

Help us to lay aside our envy and selfish ambition,

that we may walk in your ways of wisdom and understanding

as servants of your peace. Amen.

BProper20 2021 / Lectionary 25 / Pentecost 17

RCL Track 2

Wisdom of Solomon 1:16-2:1, 12-22 [or Jeremiah 11:18-20].  

Psalm 54  •  James 3:13 - 4:3, 7-8a  •  Mark 9:30-37

This Sunday, September 19, we will welcome a new transitional pastor who we hope will be with us until our new called pastor arrives. Rev. Dr. John Leech is ordained in the Episcopal Church and has served as pastor in northern California and western Washington, as well as now in southern Arizona where, among other things, he is on call as a chaplain for Tucson Medical Center one night per week. He was baptized by his great-grandfather, Rev. Harvey M. Leech, who served as pastor of First Lutheran Church in Oakland, CA and St. Michael’s Lutheran Church in Berkeley, CA. So, he is not a stranger to things Lutheran! As Bishop Hutterer has advised and approved, the provision of “full communion” reciprocity between the ELCA and the Episcopal Church makes it possible for those ordained in one church to serve in another. Please give Rev. Leech a warm welcome on Sunday! [Footnotes, parish newsletter, Lutheran Church of the Foothills, Tucson, Friday 9/27/21]

https://www.foothillslutherantucson.org/

https://www.foothillslutherantucson.org/?wix-vod-video-id=tSXgOqixYco&wix-vod-comp-id=comp-keyll888