The Greatest Will Serve - Much offered, much required
The Rev. Dr. Seth Thomas
Reorientation • Sermon • Submitted • Presented
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Transcript
1 Then Jesus said to the crowds and to his disciples, 2 “The scribes and the Pharisees sit on Moses’ seat; 3 therefore, do whatever they teach you and follow it; but do not do as they do, for they do not practice what they teach. 4 They tie up heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on the shoulders of others; but they themselves are unwilling to lift a finger to move them. 5 They do all their deeds to be seen by others; for they make their phylacteries broad and their fringes long. 6 They love to have the place of honor at banquets and the best seats in the synagogues, 7 and to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces, and to have people call them rabbi. 8 But you are not to be called rabbi, for you have one teacher, and you are all students.9 And call no one your father on earth, for you have one Father—the one in heaven. 10 Nor are you to be called instructors, for you have one instructor, the Messiah.11 The greatest among you will be your servant. 12 All who exalt themselves will be humbled, and all who humble themselves will be exalted.
This text hits me in a different way than some. I’m going to share a bit more personally, because, if I’m honest, I am the equivalent of the scribes and Pharisees Jesus is addressing. I’m one of the religious elite. I have an ordination from one of the most academically minded and high-level requirement Christian denominations, the Presbyterian Church. I have a doctorate in Ministry. And I have over 15 years of experience in professional ministry. To think that Jesus’ words don’t cut to the gut of people like me, is to miss the point.
I’ve got two stories to tell. But first, so you know what in the world a phylactery is — they are small boxes with leather strips that are worn during worship and prayer, inscribed with verses from the Torah, the Old Testament. The gist of Jesus’ words is that he’s undermining all the religious garb and pomp and challenging religious leaders to honestly live their faith in action and deed.
Stories
Ok, two quick stories. Both are from my first couple of months working over at Cordata Presbyterian. I served as their worship leader for about 4 years, while in seminary and during the time I was finishing up my ordination requirements.
The first was an encounter with a sweet older woman in the congregation. I picked all the music for Sunday worship and, as I was just getting acquainted with their worship style, I brought in a number of songs I’d led to college students in the years before. Pop Christian Worship. And this woman, who I later learned was actually an active elder in the church, was not pleased with my selections. So she asked to meet with me to tell me about her thoughts, and we met. I listened respectfully, trying to learn how to better lead and support worship at that church, while also thinking of ways to maintain my style and perspectives on musical worship. She gave me her advice and then I shared that I was grateful, especially as I was training to be a pastor. When I dropped that bit of information, the tone of the conversation changed dramatically. She said, “oh, I didn’t know you were going to be a pastor. I’m so sorry, I would not have told you what to do.”
And that was it. It was strange. I didn’t really understand it at the time, but what was going on was she thought she needed to defer to me because of some role that I might some day hold. It made me sad, in that I felt like there had probably been others in the past who had taught her and others that religious leaders have some kind of unquestionable authority.
Ok, second story — very different angle. A couple months later, I was asked by the Worship committee to take a proposal from some new equipment to the church session. I’d never been to a Session meeting, so I thought, again, it’d be a good learning experience. So, I presented the proposal and asked for ideas/feedback. I’ll never forget that meeting. One elder looked right at me and, in a bluster, said, “how dare you come here and ask us to spend money. Don’t you know where we’re at in our budget. This is ridiculous.”
In this story, they also knew I was training to be a pastor. But the dynamic here was a stark contrast. What that man said without saying was this: “You aren’t qualified to speak to us. Know your place.”
Again, I felt strange at this interaction.
And I tell these stories not to rake anyone through the mud, but to highlight the realities of what Jesus is teaching about here. People who hold the role and credentials I do have all kinds of projected feelings upon them. Some are due, especially when it comes to honoring our traditions and doing the genuinely important spiritual care work we offer. And some of it is garbage, propping up power and position and privilege, may least favorite P words.
What Jesus is inviting us to hear today is for all of us, but at the center of the argument, it is a critique and warning for anyone who is given authority and standing.
We must be very cautious in how we ask for each other’s time, talents, money, along with spiritual discipline and moral or ethical living. Cautious, not in that we should not ask or require something of each other, but cautious in the sense of not lording authority or position over one another.
Ok, a little more personal sharing. And hopefully you hear this as respect for you all and reverence for the sacred work I am so fortunate to be called to do.
I’m the first pastor here at St. James, at least in recent memory, who does not regularly wear the traditional clergy robe and stole. At ordination, Presbyterian pastors are giving their robe and stole, symbols of academic study and priestly roles. And I have them. I have a picture in my office of Pastors Greg Ellis and Doug Bunnell presenting me with them on this chancel.
But I don’t wear mine. I’ll wear a collar from time to time, for very intentional reasons, especially when I’m a part of a public event as a member of the clergy. But here, I typically don’t wear those garments. Why? Well, one big reason is that I feel they can put a barrier between me and you and make me less approachable or less like a person who you can connect with and share life with. I am actively attempting to resist that separation, not because I don’t have good boundaries (I think I do), but because I want to subvert any sense of power being lorded over.
So yeah, I’m qualified and credentialed. I’m very well learned and articulate and skilled at this work, because I love it. AND, what Jesus teaches me and I hope teaches you, too, is that the greatest among us will serve.
As well, none of this is meant to make me sound any holier or better because I’m so humble. No, what’s going on here is that we follow Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who empties himself of all privilege and position to serve.
Philippians 2:1-11 says...
1 If then there is any encouragement in Christ, any consolation from love, any sharing in the Spirit, any compassion and sympathy, 2 make my joy complete: be of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. 3 Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves. 4 Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others. 5 Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, 6 who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, 7 but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, 8 he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death— even death on a cross. 9 Therefore God also highly exalted him and gave him the name that is above every name, 10 so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, 11 and every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.
It is out of joy that we serve.
Joy is why we empty ourselves. Letting go of power is a joyful act.
And yes, we hold power intentionally.
Jesus is our teacher. Our rabbi. We look to Jesus’ example in how we seek to lead and serve and love one another. He sets the standard.
11 The greatest among you will be your servant. 12 All who exalt themselves will be humbled, and all who humble themselves will be exalted.
How are you being invited to humbly serve?
How are you being challenged to let go of your power, for the life and care of others?
I have to ask these questions a lot. Because position can creep in and afford us with certain privileges over and above others. I am one of the most theologically educated people in the room. But you know what, there are people here in this room who are WAY better at original Hebrew and Greek study. There are folks in this room with years more experience in counseling and pastoral care. There are gifted physicians and nurses, educated to the highest degree. And you know what — the good ones in all these categories, the good ones are the ones who don’t need to lord that power over others, but humbly serve.
Another example: Ta Wei is a highly skilled pianist. You know this. But Ta Wei doesn’t lord this over. I love how Ta Wei approaches music teaching — it’s about inviting people, wherever they are at, to learn and experience music. In no way is it about setting a high bar that only some can achieve. Ta Wei is modeling this way, even in some of the subtlest ways that they can.
Ok. Let’s bring this home.
And hear this: I hold my role as minister of word and sacrament with very high regard. It is holy ground to get to explore the scriptures and tend to the deep stories in your lives with you. And you know what, if you want to call me Pastor or Reverend or even Reverend Doctor, go for it. I respect that. But also, you can call me Seth. I want to be the kind of person who meets you where you are at.
And I love it.
I’ll close with Mister Rogers again this week. I’m sure many of you have heard his quote about times of challenge or struggle. He said, “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news,” Rogers said to his television neighbors, “my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’”
Friends, religious faithful, followers of Jesus here at St. James — our calling is to be helpers. To support one another. And yes, sometimes we will need to expect high standards of each other. But never our of obligation or burdening. Rather, it’s because, like a good doctor who cares about their patients, we hold each other to high standards and high morality because it is in this way that we best serve and care for one another. Not to make each other feel bad, but because when we all adopt this posture of helping and serving, we can do amazing things together.
Today, at the table, I’ll wear my stole. I have deep regard for the traditions and formalities of this role. It deepens your experience, in some ways. It reminds me of my calling. And I do so hoping to be a helper, a servant, someone who helps you encounter Jesus a bit more today, in how I love and serve you.
This is the way of Jesus, I believe.
May we all seek this humble, beautiful, life-giving way.