September 24, 2006

By Harry T. Cook

Mark 9: 30-37

Jesus foresaw how life in the church named for him would be. Mark portrays Jesus leading his contingent by foot through Galilee. As the leader, Jesus would have been out in front, the disciples following him. Mark suggests he could not hear exactly what the subject of the disciples’ on-the-road conversation was, but he could tell they were arguing. What were you arguing about on the way, he asked them?

Their answer was an embarrassed silence, Mark says, because the argument had been about which one of them was more important than the other. “Listen,” Jesus said to them. “That isn’t how it works. How it works is that we are all vulnerable and incomplete. We’re none of us all we could be and might become. That being the case, knock off with the arguing about who is best or greatest because it doesn’t matter.”

Jesus illustrated his point by taking a child into his embrace and saying, in effect, “This is what I’m talking about. This child is not yet what he will be when we’re finished with him. There’s not much he can do at this stage of his life but be fed and clothed and cared for. Yet he is precious and cherished for that.”

A lot of damage has been done to human relationships by ego-driven strivers who are hell-bent on being the greatest. They make life like the Indianapolis Speedway: Noisy and dangerous. This is not a brief for slackers or for not trying to be all one can be. That’s a different matter. There is nothing wrong with a person – man, woman or child – devoting hours and effort to becoming a great violinist, marathon runner or poet. But everything does not have to be the soul of competition.

The child as yet unmarked by the aggressive ambition of an adult is just who he or she is: a human being of unknown potential in the process of becoming. In an astounding statement, Jesus said, in effect, “I am like this child. If you accept this child for what he is, accept me for what I am.”

Theologians have worked themselves into a lather for centuries to present a finished and perfect Christ figure to the world: complete in eternal perfection eons before his birth as a human child, wise in all things from infancy and forever without sin. For the imperial theologians Jesus Christ is the greatest. The King of kings and Lord of lords.

You can see the Jesus of today’s gospel shaking his head in exasperation at such nonsense. He has said plainly that he none of those things, that he is unfinished, unrealized as the child he held in his arms was unfinished and unrealized, just as each human being is in the process of becoming.

How can anyone be “the greatest” in a scheme like that? You are who you are and what you are. Yes, you can change for the better or for the worse. You can grow and get better at what you do. You can become a great composer or be content to play Chopsticks. The world needs Chopsticks players as well as Bachs and Beethovens.

Today’s gospel is not an edict against improvement. But it is a warning that trying to be greater than the other guy isn’t the point. It’s being all you can be, always remaining aware that you’re not perfect nor will you ever be.

To paraphrase the statement Mark attributes to Jesus: If you give everything you are to being first at all costs, you may end up being last. The last sometimes ends up being the first because he or she just did his or her thing as best it could be done.

© Copyright 2006, Harry T. Cook. All rights reserved. This article may not be used or reproduced without proper credit.

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