Historian Robert Caro, best known for his biography of President Lyndon Johnson, has noted that in the middle years of the 20th century the United States Senate was populated by men who craved power and enjoyed lording it over others. He tells of one senator (Carl Hayden of Arizonia) who, upon entering the Senate cafeteria, would choose the table at which he wanted to by placing his cane on it. He would do so even if people were already at that particular table. All the secretaries and staffers knew that if the Senator placed his cane upon your table, you had best be gone by the time he returned with his food.
Most of the senators were so intoxicated by power that they refused to wait for the elevator in the Senate Office Building. They developed a system to make sure they were picked up immediately. Senators would ring the call button three times, indicating that a senator was waiting and the elevator operator should pick him up posthaste. The operator was expected to skip all other floors; to skip even if someone had rung for the elevator before the senator; to skip them even if it meant bypassing the floor of someone who was already on the elevator. On one occasion, after ringing three times, a senator (McCarren of Nevada) heard the elevator pass him by. Furious, he turned on his heel, returned to his office, called the Sergeant at Arms, and ordered the elevator operator be fired immediately. He was. (Scott Hozee, “Illustration Idea,” Mark 10.35-45, http://cep.calvinseminary.edu/sermon-starters/proper-24b/?type=the_lectionary_gospel)
The unbridled lust for power continues to be a feature of our politics; and, as we approach the end of another presidential election season, it is all too clearly on display in the lies and slanders politicians will employ in order to get us to vote for them or, conversely, to get us not vote for their opponent. But before we criticize power-hungry politicians too much (though they are certainly deserving of the criticism—especially when their lies harm vulnerable people like immigrants or transgender persons), perhaps we ought to take a look in the mirror. I suspect that many of us admire those politicians precisely because they have power, or, at least, even if we don’t admire them, we certainly wouldn’t mind having their power. Most people aspire to greatness. We want to have power, or money, or fame, or influence. We dream of glory. We criticize those who have it, while secretly desiring it for ourselves. And when we get a little power, a little authority—at work, at home, on a team, in a club, at church, among our friend group —we find it very tempting and very easy to lord it over others.
But it’s not just power or even wealth that we long for. We often want the best for ourselves, we long to be recognized and honored, we want to be first. Some would say this is simply part of human nature—such longings reflect our need for love and acceptance or they grow out of our desire to secure our future, to make sure we survive and thrive. I think there is truth to this observation. As Jana Childress puts it, we all have Zebedee DNA. [paraphrased by David B. Howell, “Pastoral Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Year B, Vol. 4, 190]
Give James and John credit. The sons of Zebedee are at least honest enough to admit they want the seats of honor and the authority that goes with them. And they are bold enough to ask for them. The rest of the disciples grumble about James and John’s request, but one suspects their criticisms are hypocritical. It seems likely they are just upset that they didn’t have the guts to be the first to ask.
The problem is none of them, not the Zebedee boys nor the other ten, get it. Once again, the disciples are thinking human thoughts instead of God’s thoughts. They seem to be envisioning Jesus as a new emperor and they want the positions of highest authority in his kingdom.
They probably shared the widespread expectation that the Messiah would be a warrior king in the mold of David who would liberate Israel from foreign domination and usher in a new golden age. But that’s not the kind of Messiah, the kind of Christ, that Jesus is. Jesus isn’t like the Emperor Tiberius or Herod or the local Roman governor. They all rule by force and by intimidation, imposing their will on those weaker than they. They sit atop a network of patronage in which lesser officials and the little people kowtow before them, serve them and praise them, all the while hoping to receive some small benefit for their service. And they command armies which can be used to impose their will on unwilling subjects. But this is not Jesus’ way.
He has just made his third and most detailed passion prediction—he’s going to Jerusalem to die. But the disciples seem hard of hearing—they are spiritually blind. They seem think he is going to Jerusalem to reestablish David’s kingdom and to set himself up as its ruler, complete with all the trappings of worldly power. Yet again Jesus has to correct them. It hasn’t been that long since he told them that it is difficult, nearly impossible for the wealthy to enter the kingdom of God, in which the first shall be last and the last shall be first. Now he has to repeat the lesson.
“I am not like those Gentile rulers,” he tells the disciples. “They fancy themselves superior, masters of other men and women. They expect to be served. But I came to serve and to give my life to set people free.
“You are my followers, so you should be like me, not like the wealthy and powerful. You will become great in God’s kingdom only by serving. True greatness comes not from getting your way or stepping on others. True greatness comes from seeking the good of others, from helping, from serving.”
In all of this, Jesus is telling us something about God. Jesus—in his service and sacrifice, in his compassion and his crucifixion—reveals to us God’s character and God’s concerns. Reflecting on the crucified Christ as a revelation of the Crucified God who is hidden in suffering and present with us in our pain and struggle, Martin Luther observed, “Thus, God is the God of the humble, the miserable, the afflicted, the oppressed, the desperate, and those who have been brought down to nothing at all. And it is the nature of God to exalt the humble, to feed the hungry, to enlighten the blind, to comfort the miserable and afflicted, to justify sinners, to give life to the dead, and to save those who are desperate and damned.” [Luther, Lectures on Galatians [1535], reflecting on Galatians 3.19, in Luther’s Works, Vol. 26, p. 314; quoted in William Willimon, Lectionary Sermon Resource, Year B, Part 2, p. 213]
When Jesus calls on his disciples to follow him, he is calling on them to join in this work of God. Throughout the eighth, ninth and tenth chapters of Mark, as Jesus repeatedly refers to his impending death, he is calling on his disciples to take up their crosses, that is, to imitate his life of service and self-giving love. Jesus presents a challenge to all who claim to follow him. He says to his disciples, “Will you go the world’s way, the way of power, the way of self-concern, the way of domination? Or will you go my way, the way of the cross, the way of humility, the way of service?”
That challenge comes to us as well. We live in a society that glorifies those who have power and wealth, who have servants, employees, and underlings at their beck and call. Our society holds such people up and says, “This is living. This is success. This is the good life. This is what it means to be great.” Our society tells us that the most persistent and urgent questions of life are “What do you have?” and “How well do you throw your weight around?”
But Jesus inverts the world’s expectations, upends the world’s standards. He tells us that to be first, you must become last. To receive, you must give. To live, you must die. To be great, you must become a servant. We must choose, daily, which type of greatness we will seek; whether we will hunger for power or for righteousness; whether we will seek to be ruler or servant; whether we will follow the world or follow Jesus. So, in truth, Martin Luther King, Jr. had it right when he observed: “Life’s most persistent and urgent question is, ‘What are you doing for others?’” [Martin Luther King Jr., “Three Dimensions of a Complete Life,” Strength to Love, p. 72]
This means that the church of Jesus must be a servant church, reaching out to the world in compassion, seeking to meet the physical, emotional and spiritual needs of our neighbors, drawing people to God by the example of our love. Thus, we must reject the lure of political power, a persistent temptation for the church since the time of the Emperor Constantine in the third century and one that seems to have ensnared a sizable group of American Christians, especially among our Evangelical brothers and sisters—though the phenomenon is by no means limited to this group.
We cannot coerce others into the way of Christ—that is a contradiction of Christ’s way of self-giving love; Jesus invites people to follow him, he does not force. Nor can we bring about the Kingdom of God by the exercise of political power—such efforts almost always reflect not a desire to see God’s will done, but a desire to reshape society in our own image. Christians who seek political power in order to lord it over those they disagree with are departing from the way of Christ; they are driven not by God’s vision of a Beloved Community but by their own desire for dominance, their own desire to impose their understanding of Christianity, their own understanding of right and wrong, their own political vision upon everyone else. This may be what James and John had in mind; it is certainly what Jesus rejects. Jesus does not teach us to pray “may our kingdom come” or “may the American or Democratic or Republican or Evangelical or Catholic or Mainline Protestant kingdom come.” Jesus teaches us to pray “may Thy kingdom come,” for the kingdom, the power and the glory are God’s, never ours.
Thus, we are not called to seek earthly power, but to do justice, to show mercy and to walk humbly with God. [Micah 6.8] As Madeline L’Engle once observed, “We do not draw people to Christ by loudly discrediting what they believe, by telling them how wrong they are and how right we are, [we draw them to Christ] by showing them a light that is so lovely that they want with all their hearts to know the source of it." [quoted in a December 2016 fund raising letter from Christian Century editor Peter Marty; the original source is L’Engle’s book Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art] We don’t participate in the work of God’s kingdom by earthly power plays, but by embodying love, enacting compassion and reflecting the indescribable beauty of God’s loving, other-affirming, life-giving character.
So, we have a choice to make, both as individual Christians and as the church: God’s way or the world’s way. There is a scene at the end of the second Harry Potter movie, “The Chamber of Secrets” which underlines the importance of our choices and how those choices define us. Harry has just prevailed in an encounter with the evil Lord Voldemort, but he is worried. Voldemort had observed that he and Harry were alike in many ways; they shared certain traits and abilities. This statement deeply bothers Harry. Voldemort is power-hungry and self-obsessed, a tyrant who cares only for himself, one who sets himself up as lord and master over everyone else, an amoral narcissist who uses others for his own ends and kills with no hesitation or remorse. Harry doesn’t want to be like him, but, if they share characteristics, is he doomed to become what Voldemort is?
Professor Dumbledore, headmaster of the school, reassures Harry: “It is not our abilities that make us who we are, Harry. It is our choices.”
It is not our abilities, it is not our wealth, it is not our power, it is not our influence, that makes us great, that makes us who we are. It is how we choose to use those things that matters. Our choices both reveal and shape our character. What makes us great in the kingdom of God, what reveals who and whose we are, is our choice to serve.
So, will we be like the rulers of the Gentiles, like power-hungry politicians, scheming, using people and throwing our weight around? Will we choose the path of self-aggrandizement and dominance? Will we choose the way of worldly power and glory?
Or will we be like Christ who came to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many? Will we choose his way of humility and take up the cross of service? Will we choose to be God’s church, accepting the cost as well as the joy of discipleship? Will we be God’s servants in the service of others?
Abraham Williams chose the way of service. Abraham was the director of the Housing Authority of Bowling Green, Kentucky for 29 years, and he did a lot to lift people up, treating them with dignity and approaching his work with an attitude of service and care. (I had the pleasure of working with him when I was Associate Minister at First Christian Church, Bowling Green 20 years ago.) He died last Sunday at the age of 75. On Facebook, a colleague recalled that Abraham was fond of quoting Martin Luther King, Jr.: “Everybody can be great because everybody can serve.” Abraham Williams lived out this principle. King reminds us that you don’t need any special qualifications, experience or resources to become great through service. “You only need a heart full of grace, a soul generated by love.” [“The Drum Major Instinct,” sermon delivered February 4, 1968 at Ebenezer Baptist Church, Atlanta, GA]
May Christ grant us hearts full of grace. May the Holy Spirit pour out Divine love to regenerate our souls that we may follow Jesus in the way of service.
May God grant us strength and wisdom so that we may reject the self-seeking love of power and choose instead the self-giving power of love. Amen.