I have two wonderful younger brothers, whom I love very much. These pictures are fairly reflective of our love for each other and the fun we have together. On the whole, we got along pretty well as a trio growing up. The glaring exception to this, though, is whenever we would get in a car to go somewhere. And I don’t mean because we complained on the trip; that was last week’s sermon. I mean literally going to get in the car. It started innocently enough. Mom or Dad would say it was time to go, one of us would call “Front Seat” (some of you know this as “calling shotgun”). That evolved into a rule between us that you had to actually be in view of the car before you could call it. But words didn’t last long. Claiming the front seat became a literal battle for who could physically get into the seat first. It wasn’t very pretty, and didn’t take long for our youngest brother, Ben, to become collateral damage as he tried to keep up with his older siblings. The last straw for my mother was the day Ben’s arm got caught in the car door as either Philip or I slammed it shut trying to cement our claim on the seat.
Today’s gospel texts are a little less violent, but show a similar wrestling among the disciples for who gets the front seat. In subtle, and then direct ways, we see the disciples angling for status, wondering who among them is the best or greatest. They had been following Jesus for a little while, and wanted to know where they stood, or sat.
Looking back, as an adult I can recognize that perhaps sitting in the front seat wasn’t the be all end all important thing in life, but for a girl with two younger brothers, I think it became so important because it reinforced my deeply held belief that as the oldest child I deserved certain privileges. It was a status symbol, giving not only the best view and most comfortable ride, but control of the air conditioner and radio selections. Who wouldn’t want that? For the disciples, sitting in that metaphorical front seat in the kingdom of heaven was certain to guarantee even greater, eternal privileges. This was more than just a quest to be the teacher’s pet; this quandry was how James, John, and the other disciples sought their very salvation, and they all wanted to be on top of that list.
But when Jesus asks the disciples what they’re talking about, the group falls silent. Often the disciples are portrayed as clueless, but in this case we hear the silence of those who know better than to admit to the subject matter. Harry Adams notes:
Many of us would fall silent if we were asked to explain how what we are doing and saying accords with the way of life that Jesus sets before us[i].
Surely the disciples had realized by now that Jesus was not in the business of perks and elite status even for his most devoted disciples. They surely knew he wasn’t going to defend the cultural norms or status quo. We know better, too. Countless other examples in Scripture call us to humility, and remind us that it doesn’t matter whether you’re first or last, all are welcome. Every seat in the car gets to the same destination.
But that doesn’t stop us from trying to get in the front seat. Wanting the best seat is an inclination we all have, not just as children, but as adults, too. We spend a lot of our time, sometimes subconsciously, worrying about our status, trying to get ahead or maneuver things so that we get the acclaim. We do this every time we navigate traffic, merging in and out of lanes based on which seems to be moving faster, or waiting until the last second to get over at our exit so we can skip ahead just a few more cars and save just a few more minutes. We do this if we’re flying Southwest, scrambling for the exit rows or aisle seats, even if we’re on the shorter side. It happens in more significant ways, too. Our careers can be driven by a desire to succeed and get ahead, whether it’s meeting a sales quota, getting a promotion, securing tenure, being the boss’s right hand man or woman, or becoming the boss ourselves. In the movie Talladega Nights, Ricky Bobby’s father comes to career day and shares the life lesson, “if you ain’t first, you’re last!” These words motivate the main character to pursue success no matter the casualties left behind, even if that means getting a little dirty in the process. Achievement and advancement are a big part of our experience of life. But we aren’t always that willing to admit it when they domination our intentions.
Jesus’ response to the disciples, in both instances, was not to admonish their general drive to be successful. Instead, his response invites them to refocus their energies in a different direction – from rivalry over status with each other to service for the world. Rather than leading lives which revolved around individual success and status, to lead lives that attended to the overall success of everyone, to be the servants “of all.” The word that is translated in this text as “servant” in Greek is diakonos, and
While that word came to refer to a person in ministry, in the Greek of Jesus’ and Mark’s day it meant someone who served meals. The person who was “servant of all” was the lowest in rank of all the servants – the one who would be allowed to eat only what was left after everyone else had eaten their fill[ii].
In a similar way, Jesus uses the illustration of welcoming a little child, a word in Greek which is closely related to servant. Children in the first century, even more so than today, were completely without any power or status or voice. All of Jesus’ response was characterized by telling the disciples to worry less about who was in the front seat and more about who was squished in the back or left by the side of the road.
There is a famous quote that goes something like this: “the true measure of any society can be found in how it treats its most vulnerable members[iii].” It has been dubiously attributed to a great number of historical figures, but I wonder if the roots of it aren’t from Jesus himself. By instructing his disciples to be servants to others and welcome children as ways they follow him, Jesus is establishing that being a Christian involves paying attention to those that many others ignore, or worse, harm on their way to the top.
Frankly, many of us sitting in this sanctuary today are often in the front seats of power and privilege in life, and with that comes a considerable responsibility. It’s our responsibility to attend to the needs of the other passengers. Yes, we get control over things like the air conditioner and radio, but perhaps with this we should also make sure that the rest of the people in the car are also having a comfortable ride. If someone in the back gets sick, it means giving them our place up front to minimize their pain. Being in the front seat, at its best, is being a servant to others, and looking out for everyone else, too. Sometimes the best way to do this is to change our perspective, which means giving up our seat so that others can have a turn.
My mom’s first solution to our front seat battles was to institute the simple concept of alternating who got to sit in the front seat. In this system, I quickly realized that some trips were longer than others and would “generously” gift my brothers with additional turns, so that they had two in a row, in order to manipulate it in such a way that it became my turn for those trips that were longer. It helps to be a little older and wiser than your siblings. But
I imagine that Jesus would take some issue with my creative approach to servanthood. Because you see, I really wasn’t trying to help my brothers out. I was in it for me, which isn’t much better than pulling and clawing my way into the seat.
The writer of James had a lot to say about the underlying motivations for our actions, too.
Throughout the book we hear careful instructions about the importance of integrating our theory and our practices. James is where the rubber meets the road for much of Jesus’ instructions. Just before our passage for today comes the frank statement that “faith without works is dead[iv].” In James, we find the argument not that faith saves us, but that if we claim to be people of faith, our actions need to match those words. This means that there is no room for us to act with selfish ambition or greed. And those actions that are manipulative of the truth with the sole motivation being our own personal gain? They might just be earthly, unspiritual, and wicked. And they will certainly lead to disorder. James doesn’t mince words here. He puts the instructions Jesus gives to the disciples under a magnifying glass and heats things up. He calls us to the wisdom given to us by Christ himself, and urges us to be “peaceable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy and good fruits, without a trace of partiality or hypocrisy[v].”
This way of living doesn’t leave much room for front seat battles or tricky behavior. Neither did my mom’s final system. She caught on to my scheme and responded with a system of “days” then “weeks” that rotated who got to sit in the front, suspended and renegotiated for special occasions like birthdays and family road trips. In doing so, some peace was made, most of the time at least, and my brothers and I began to work on similar patterns of sharing privileges with each other that required a little less orchestration from our parents, from what shows to watch on tv or games to play, or where to go out to eat. And I’m happy to report that on the whole, we are fairly well adjusted adults who no longer fight over the front seat if we are all going somewhere.
Maybe that’s what Jesus was going for with his disciples – a system of living that got away from time and energy spent on who got to sit in the front, and focused on the actual journey at hand. Can you imagine what it would be like if we as Christians stopped fighting over the front seat, and instead found ways to share our privilege and status? I think it might be the first step to our living peaceably, and it would certainly be a great way for us to follow Jesus’ teachings. It means subjecting ourselves to risks, to not being in complete control or power. When Jesus did it, sitting with sinners and tax collectors and caring for the vulnerable in his day, it led to his arrest and crucifixion. If we follow suit, the results may be the same for our social status or reputation. But it is this path of service, of caring, that leads to greatness in God’s eyes. So, where do you want to sit now?
~Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford
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[i] Harry B. Adams, “Pastoral Perspective: Mark 9:30-37,” Feasting on the Word: Year B, Volume 4, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009).
[ii] Sharon H. Ringe, “Exegetical Perspective: Mark 9:30-37,” Feasting on the Word: Year B, Volume 4, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009).
[iii] Although many sources attribute this to Mahatma Gandhi, there is no clear documentation of this exact quote to him, and many suggest it is a mis-representation of a similar quote from Gandhi made in a speech in 2008 regarding cruelty to animals, where he is noted as saying, “the greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way its animals are treated.” Others who have been quoted as similar to this include Winston Churchill, Harry S. Truman, and Pope John Paul II. While the exact origins are unclear, the ethos and general sensibility seems to be a shared vision among many respected world leaders over time.
[iv] James 2:26, New Revised Standard Version: “For just as the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without works is also dead.”
[v] James 3:17, NRSV.
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