We move on to our third act of discipleship today—the act of serving. Serving is an inescapable and integral part of life as a Christian, as a disciple of Jesus. Martin Luther, in his 1520 treatise “Concerning the Freedom of a Christian,” writes about the obligation Christians have by virtue of our baptism into Jesus’ death and resurrection. “A Christian is perfectly free lord of all things, subject to nothing,” he writes on one hand, but then immediately in the next sentences says, “A Christian is a perfectly dutiful slave, subject to everything.”
These two sentences embody the nature of servanthood for us as Christians, for us as disciples of Jesus—Christians who intentionally strive to live into the gift of relationship with God, as if it makes it a difference in our life. It’s one thing to be baptized and assured of the promises of God; it’s a wholly other thing to embrace that life and live into its benefits. But those benefits, when we live into them, come with an obligation—a dirty word for some, to be sure, but an idea that bears looking at more closely, particularly in light of our lives as people who willingly and knowingly take on the title Christian. Keep that in mind, and in particular Luther’s two seemingly contradictory statements, as we go forward today.
Let us pray. May only God’s Word be spoken and may only God’s Word be heard; in the name of Jesus. Amen.
Agnus, Winifred, and Josephine were sitting in the common room of the nursing home playing gin rummy before the afternoon bingo tournament was supposed to begin. As they played, they chatted. At one point, Agnus said, “I’m very happy that my son was successful. He’s opening his second hardware store since the first one did so well.” She threw down a three of clubs on the discard pile. Winifred chimed in then, “Oh yes, me too,” she said as she picked up Agnus’s discarded three of clubs and laid down a run—three, four, and five of clubs. “My daughter was promoted to CFO at her work last month. I’m very proud of her,” she said. “Oh that’s nothing. My twin boys are both doctors,” said Josephine. She picked up the king of hearts on the discard pile. “One’s a psychologist and one’s a general practitioner,” she said as she laid down a set of three kings—diamonds, spades, and hearts. “Oh, that must’ve made for fascinating conversation when you had the family together then,” remarked Agnus. Josephine snorted. “No. They never could get along, though both were right. Those family get-togethers, for example. I’d get exhausted. One would insisted it was all emotional—the stress of having everyone there, worrying about the food. The other insisted that it was because I’d work for days getting ready and ran around the whole time waiting on people. They never could agree that they were both right. I’d get exhausted because my nerves were shot and my body tired. It wasn’t one or the other, but they didn’t get that. They were both right.” Winifred spoke up, “Yes, not everything is as simple as black and white. That’s for sure.” Josephine agreed and added, “You’re right, but I’ve come to learn that nothing’s like it seems being the mother of a pair of docs.”
All joking aside, who knows what a paradox is?
Yes—something that seems to contradict itself but when looked at more closely or explained proves in fact to be well founded and true.
Like for instance a family get-together as something that stresses you out and makes you tired. It’s something that you’d think you’d be excited about—seeing all the people you love. But those sorts of things do take an emotional and physical toll, both, not just one or the other. It seems at face value not to make sense. But it most definitely does make sense—and anyone who’s had their family over for a get-together can tell you that even though they look forward to having people over and even though they hop about full of energy doing this or that beforehand and while everyone is there, it is emotionally and physically draining—all the while emotionally and physically energizing. A paradox, a truly living paradox…
Christian discipleship isn’t without its own paradox, at least one—the paradox of serving. In today’s gospel, in fact, Jesus lays out a few pretty interesting paradoxes. “Whoever wishes to be great among you,” he says “must be your servant,” and he goes on to say that “whoever wishes to be first among you must be your slave.” And if that wasn’t enough paradox for you, he ends by saying, of himself, “just as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve and to give his life a ransom for many.”
At face value, what Jesus is saying doesn’t make sense. Servants aren’t great, so greatness doesn’t come from servanthood. Slaves definitely aren’t first; in fact, slaves might be lucky to get a piece of the proverbial pie at all, let alone being first. And it simply doesn’t make sense that God, the Son of Man, the holy and perfect King of kings and Lord or lords, Jesus should come to serve. Doesn’t Jesus know what Moses said? “You shall serve the Lord your God,” and when you do, God says he’ll bless us. Doesn’t Jesus know that?
Yes—Jesus does. And what’s more, he’s not wrong. That shouldn’t surprise us. It’s our way of thinking that is wrong, and Jesus is jarring us into realizing that when he says these things that shock us with their absurdity.
So what does he mean? The key to understanding it is in the one little word, “just.” In Greek, this word isn’t just just…it’s am emphatic just. Jesus is emphasizing the connection between the disciples and himself here with this little word. Here Jesus is saying, “exactly like I came into the world not be served but to serve, to give my solitary life so that many lives might live—this is what it means for you as well.” As disciples of Jesus, our lives look like his.
We shouldn’t expect accolades, praise, honor, or an easy life because we’re Jesus’ disciples. Too many people think that’s what it’s about. Become Christian and get all sorts of kudos. Just look at our politicians, both sides of the aisle, who do everything they can to assure us that they’re good Christians. For many of them, it’s a contest to prove they’re more Christian than their opponent, as if that’s something that makes them deserve our vote to become our leaders. Well, it would seem that Jesus is saying the exact opposite here. A good reminder for these politicians who want us to know they’re faithful Christians is that when we elect them as our leaders, we’re electing them to be public servants. But it’s a good reminder for us too. When we claim we’re Christians, we’re also saying that we’re servants.
Christian discipleship comes with an extraordinary freedom. “If the Son sets you free,” St. John writes, “you will be free indeed.” We are free. We are free from worrying about serving God to please God, to earn God’s favor, to earn God’s approval, to earn God’s mercy. God gives us that freedom in Jesus, who God sent into the world so that we’d finally come to live lives like it matters to us that God loves us no matter what.
This is the ransom that Jesus speaks of today…He came with a purpose—to serve us so completely, even to giving his life, so that we know God wants to share his life with us, true and abundant life. This is the service that Jesus does for us. It’s a sacrifice given on our behalf, for our sake—completely and totally without strings attached. It’s ours, done for us like servants waiting on the head of the house at dinner or slaves whose lives and all that they have come from and belong to their master.
But exactly in that way, we who identify ourselves as Jesus’ disciples, who call ourselves Christians—exactly in that way do our lives unfold. Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? But if we have died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him. This is what Jesus means when he says to us, “just as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and give his life as a ransom for many.” He is reminding us that, just as we are united with him in death, so our lives are united with him in living—living as he lived and as he continues to live. We cannot anymore be Christian and not a servant than a bachelor be married. It just has to be by virtue of what it is…A Christian is a servant, simply put—because Christ was our servant, and we are united with him.
And so it is that God, and so it is that Jesus sets us free to bind us—sets us free from living lives that seek to please him for our own sake, but instead binds us to himself so that, exactly like he gave up everything in perfect devotion to God’s will and merciful love toward us, so too do we live our lives for the sake others in devotion to God’s will and in love toward the world that God so loves.
At face value, it might not necessarily make sense that God’s free gift of mercy, love, and relationship with us has servanthood as an expectation, or even an obligation. It seems almost like a contradiction. What do you mean I’m right with God, no strings attached, yet now I’m told I’m a servant with expectations and obligations? Yet when we examine it further, when we look at it more closely, we see the paradox. We see that it proves in fact to be well founded and true. All of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death, so that, exactly like Jesus was raised from the dead, so we too live a new, different kind of life. A paradox, a truly living paradox…
Our lives as disciples of Jesus are lives as servants of one another, of those we know and those we don’t. Our lives as disciples of Jesus are lives as servants to the creation that God gave us to steward as a reflection of his image, not for our own gain, but for the wellbeing of the whole world. Our lives as disciples of Jesus are lives as servants to future generations and people yet unborn—exactly like Jesus gave his life as a ransom for many once and for all, for us in this time.
Exactly like Jesus, we are to live our lives as servants, ever mindful that our merciful love toward other people, creation, and even ourselves as good creatures made in the image of God is devotion to God’s will that we have life, and have it abundantly. As we live our lives exactly like that, exactly like Jesus in whom we live, and move, and have our being, we fulfil the vow our ancestors made, and our own vow—“The Lord our God we will serve, and him we will obey.”
And so you see. The paradox may shock us with seeming absurdity, but upon looking a bit deeper, it proves in fact to be most certainly true. A paradox, a truly living paradox…
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
The Rev'd Daniel W. Spigelmyer, Jr. 