Mark 10:35-45 - In God's Kingdom, What Is the Difference Between Irrelevance and Importance? - October 17, 2021

Does the name Grant Stuard mean anything to you? Probably not – unless you happen to be a Tampa Bay Buccaneers fan – there’s no reason you should know who he is. Grant Stuard is this year’s Mr. Irrelevant. Mr. Irrelevant is the award, if you can call it that, that is given to the very last player chosen in the NFL draft each year. Occasionally, the winner of this less-than-prestigious award will enjoy some success and fame in professional football. But far more often, he will quickly fade even deeper into obscurity. Obviously, no one really wants to win the Mr. Irrelevant award – football players would much prefer to be drafted in the first round, fought over by teams, the recipient of a huge contract and signing bonus. And we understand that, don’t we? Who strives to be irrelevant? Who is ambitious to be unimportant and forgettable? In our homes, classrooms, workplaces, even in our church, we want to think that we’re doing important and glorious things, things that will be seen and praised and admired by others. By nature, we want to be Mr. or Mrs. Important, not Mr. or Mrs. Irrelevant. Today, Jesus overturns our understanding of the difference between irrelevance and importance in God’s kingdom.

 

It all started when two of Jesus’ inner circle – James and John, whom Jesus had labeled the Sons of Thunder (Mark 3:17) – once again made waves by asking the wrong question at the wrong time. Jesus had just, for the third time, poured his heart out to his disciples, telling them that he was about to be betrayed to the chief priests and the experts in the law. They will condemn him to death and will hand him over to the Gentiles. They will mock him, spit on him, flog him, and kill him. On the third day he will rise again. (Mark 10:33-34) You would think the disciples would be shocked and humbled, offering “Lord, how can we help?” Nope. Instead, it’s Teacher, we wish that you would do for us whatever we ask. Most parents have been in Jesus’ shoes, “so…you want me to say yes before you tell me what you want…do you think I was born yesterday?” But Jesus is not us and he patiently allows them to make their request: Promise that we may sit, one at your right and one at your left, in your glory.

 

James and John clearly had ambitious plans for themselves when Jesus began his reign in Jerusalem. If this petty power struggle among the disciples sounds familiar – that’s because it is. Just a few chapters earlier, shortly after Jesus was transfigured before their eyes, they were caught up in arguing over which of them was greatest (Mark 9:30-37). And on the very night Jesus was betrayed to his enemies, same story (Mark 22:24). And it wasn’t just James and John either. When the ten heard this, they were angry with James and John. This selfish, ambitious drive for personal glory is one of the more prevalent themes throughout the pages of Scripture. Satan was cast out of heaven and sin entered the human race through Adam and Eve because all three coveted the glory God had reserved for himself (Isaiah 14:12-15). God confused human language at Babel because the human race was determined to build a monument to their own glory (Genesis 11:1-9). God struck Moses’ sister, Miriam, with leprosy because of her desire for honor and glory (Numbers 12:10).

 

Is it any different today? Are we still ambitious for glory and honor for ourselves? Our sinful nature doesn’t want to serve anyone but ourselves – not even God. Maybe we don’t, like James and John, envision ourselves as kings and queens. But we do like to receive glory and praise, we like to have power, we want things done our way. We carefully protect our “downtime” or “me time” and how dare anyone ever try to take that away from us. The sinful nature rationalizes this attitude, “I have to look out for number 1, because if I don’t, who will?” Not to mention the fact that serving others is often dirty work. Serving usually means having to make a commitment and a sacrifice, serving may mean having to do something that’s unpleasant, serving may mean doing something that is beneath me, uncomfortable, unimportant or even seemingly irrelevant. Unfortunately, this selfishness, this reluctance to commit, this desire for glory often brings disharmony, conflict and even outright arguments to our marriages, families and church.

 

So Jesus sits us down with the Twelve and tells us, “you know those things that you feel are beneath you, uncomfortable, unworthy of your precious time, and irrelevant? Those are the things that are truly important in God’s eyes.” Whoever wants to be great among you will be your servant, and whoever wants to be first among you will be a slave of all. With the benefit of 2000 years of hindsight, we can see just how timely Jesus’ words were. Even as Jesus is telling his disciples they must plan to be servants, not lords, he was in the process of humbling himself to become their servant!

 

Jesus is echoing what Isaiah had prophesied about him 700 years earlier. That it was the Lord’s will to crush him and allow him to suffer…that he would [pour] out his life to death, and let himself be counted with rebellious sinners. (Isaiah 53:10-12) Whenever resentment rises in your gut, whenever you begin to think that any kind of service is “beneath you” remember how Jesus poured himself out for you. He let the soldiers strip him of his dignity and his clothing while wrapping him in a contemptuous purple robe. He let the spitters spit on him and the liars lie about him, even though he knew it would trash his reputation. He let them press a crown of thorns into his skull and drive nails through his hands and feet, even though he knew the pain would be indescribable. He let our mountain of sin be piled on his shoulders, knowing that the guilt of the world would buckle his knees and drag him down to the depths of hell. He willingly let all those things be done to him – because he knew it wasn’t about him. It wasn’t about saving himself or preserving his life or striving for glory. It was about serving and saving us.

 

James and John had requested seats at Jesus’ right and left – but Jesus told them that these positions had been reserved for others. Do you know whom they were reserved for? Two thieves – who weren’t sitting on thrones but were nailed to crosses (Mark 15:27). When Jesus let himself be counted with rebellious sinners (Isaiah 53:12), it wasn’t just with two thieves; it was with us. The Son of God humbled himself to be counted as one of us with all of our selfishness, arrogance and sinful ambition. On Good Friday, Jesus willingly gave up his life as a substitute for rebellious sinners like us. And this was his mission all along: even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.

 

We generally look at serving others as a humbling experience, but often isn’t the opposite more often true: that being served can be even more humbling – especially when the one serving us is greater than us, especially when it’s Jesus. Like Peter in the Upper Room, we look with wonder at all he has done for us, all he continues to do for us, and we say, Lord, are you going to wash my feet? (John 13:6) It’s truly humbling to remember that just as Jesus once stooped to wash dirty feet, so he still stoops to wash the sin from our hearts today. In fact, he’s doing it right now. We call this a worship service. Who is serving whom here? It’s not really me, it’s not really you. It’s Jesus. It’s Jesus who stoops down out of heaven to be present with two or three or 85 who have gathered in his name (Matthew 18:20). It’s Jesus bending down through the water of Baptism and words of Absolution to wash away our sins. It’s really Jesus who is serving us with his true body and blood – that’s why we call it the Lord’s Supper. Through these humble means of grace the Son of God serves the sons and daughters of sinful men, the immortal serves the mortal, the Creator serves his creatures.

 

And so it’s not the demand of a tyrant, but the gentle invitation of our suffering Savior that helps us redirect our own personal ambition. The words of our closing hymn for today provide a perfect summary: I gave my life for thee; my precious blood I shed, that thou might’st ransomed be and quickened from the dead. I gave my life for thee; come, give thyself to me! (CW 454:1) To first be served by our Savior and then to leave here to serve others – that’s the heartbeat, the rhythm of Christianity. To first receive the forgiveness of sins, the promises, the sure hope of eternal life; to then respond with our confession, our offerings, our attention, our prayer and praise. And then to serve our Lord when we leave. How can we serve a Lord we can’t see? By serving the people we can see. By putting the needs of others ahead of our own. In yet another example of his abundant grace, Jesus welcomes our small, even seemingly unimportant and irrelevant service to others as service to himself (Matthew 25:40). What a glorious and honorable privilege we have: to serve the one who served us first!

 

Maybe now is a good time to recognize exactly how much service goes on around here on a daily and weekly basis. Every week our janitor comes here to take out the trash, mop the floors, vacuum the carpets and clean the toilets – when’s the last time we recognized or thanked him for his service? All summer long individuals have sacrificed their free time to take up the dusty and teeth-rattling job of cutting the grass. Sunday school teachers spend hours preparing and teaching our children about their Lord and Savior. Organists prepare hymns and liturgies to beautify our worship. Councils and committees meet to ensure that Risen Savior’s mission can be carried out in the best and most efficient way possible. Parents rouse themselves and their children early on their day off. Friends and family provide encouragement and support. Snacks are provided, enjoyed and cleaned up and no one leaves hungry. I could go on. But all of these things can only happen because you are willing to serve. And here’s the difference between Christian service and the world’s idea of charity: you don’t do it to be noticed or thanked or glorified, you do it because you love your Savior and because it needs to be done.

 

But please don’t leave here thinking that the only place you can serve your Savior is here at church. That’s not the point, and really, most of the opportunities you have to serve are not here but in the places you spend the other 167 hours of your week: your homes, classrooms, offices. I can’t enumerate all of them here. But I can encourage you to look for those opportunities. Look for chances to serve your spouse, your family, your neighbors, your coworkers, yes, even your enemies. Don’t just look for the things that are important, that will bring you glory or honor or gratitude. Look for the unimportant and irrelevant things – because those are the important things in God’s eyes, and rest assured that even if no one else knows, Jesus does and he approves.

 

We know that the world won’t get it. Jesus said as much: you know that those who are considered rulers over the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones exercise authority over them. But Jesus says it’s different for Christians; not that it should be or must be different, but it IS different. It’s different because we know and believe that Jesus served us first with his life, death, and resurrection. That’s why I don’t have to scream at you or shame you into serving others. You will – often without even realizing it. Yes, it will require sacrifice. Yes, some of the things you do may go unappreciated or unnoticed. But you’re not doing them to be appreciated or noticed. You’re doing them out of appreciation and imitation of your Savior. No matter how irrelevant they may seem, works of humble service done in his name – those are the things that are really, eternally important. Amen.