The Only Stupid Question

9-20-15 (Proper 20 / Ordinary 25B, Semi-Continuous)
James 3:13-4:3, 7-8a; Mark 9:30-37

The Only Stupid Question
"The only stupid question is the one left unasked."  -- Unknown

    As we hear some of the more familiar phrases in this text from Mark’s gospel this morning, it’s tempting to jump directly to Jesus’ words to the disciples about being servant to all and welcoming children.  There are images in this passage that many of us have probably seen throughout our whole lives - paintings of a smiling Jesus as he bounces beautiful giggling children on his knee that are usually titled “Let the little children come to me” or something similar, moments during church dinners where we jokingly cut in front of people in line, saying “The first will be last and the last shall be first,” even images of the humble servant Jesus as he breaks the bread with his disciples and bows to wash their feet.  But if we give in to that temptation and go for the “easy lesson” in these seven short verses from Mark, we risk missing some of the other things which are going on between Jesus and the disciples.  And it’s these very moments that we’re so tempted to skip that I think have the most to say to us today as brothers and sisters together in the body of Christ.

    This passage portrays some events that happen frequently throughout the gospel, but particularly in Mark.  And it usually plays out something like this:  Jesus knows that his time is running short and he wants the disciples to understand both what they mean when they call him Messiah and what he means when he talks about the Messiah.  So Jesus tries to give them an explanation of what he’s going to have to endure, and the disciples somehow end up missing the point entirely.  This time, however, Mark gives us a view into the disciples that helps explain perhaps why they seem so thick at times, and even why at other points in the gospel Jesus gets downright angry at his followers for their inability to “get it.”  One of the first things we see in verse 32 is that it’s not just that the disciples don’t understand what Jesus is saying, but they’re afraid to ask him what he means.

    I don’t know about anyone else here today, but that one statement alone got me thinking a lot throughout this week - why in the world would the disciples have been afraid to ask Jesus a question?  Standing here in the church today, I think a lot of us would give just about anything to be able to see Jesus face to face and ask him some of our questions, wouldn’t we?  We all have a lot of questions for which only God has the answers we’re seeking, so I can’t help but think that, given the opportunity, we’d make the most of it, put Jesus in the hot seat, and grill away till we have all the answers we wanted.  So why in the world, when the disciples had him there with him and had every opportunity in the world to ask him anything they wanted, did the disciples hold back - what were they afraid of?

    I ask that question, and then I remember my own experiences in seminary.  One of our professors was an incredible, distinguished theologian - his insights on theology and on a person’s relationship with God were profound and left us at the end of every class feeling like we’d been given deep insight into scripture and theology.  As he talked to us in his lilting Scottish brogue and shared his own experience and wisdom, he caused us to think about Christ in a lot of new and challenging ways.  Yet at the same time, he was one of the most intimidating professors I’ve ever had.  Sometimes, he used words and phrases I didn’t quite understand - but I respected him so much and his impression of what kind of student I was that I was sometimes afraid to ask him to clarify those things or explain them further.  I knew that he’d have been more than willing to explain it to me - he would have been happy to do so, since he genuinely wanted his students to succeed and to understand what he was teaching.  But in the end, I’d sit quietly in the class and just listen, passing up the opportunity - just like the disciples did.

   When Mark throws us this next little encounter with Christ, it takes us one step deeper into what was going on in the minds of the disciples and some of the reasons they constantly had trouble “getting it.”  As they enter into Capernaum, Jesus asks them “What were you arguing about along the way?”  And the disciples can’t bring themselves to ‘fess up; they were arguing about who among them was the greatest.  It seems like the disciples weren’t just worried about how Jesus would view them - they were worried about how it would look amongst themselves to not understand the things that Jesus said.  They were concerned about maintaining face, about jockeying for positions of greatness in the upcoming kingdom that they thought Jesus was talking about.  These disciples had it all worked out - Jesus was going to oust the Romans and make them his major leaders in the new kingdom.  Just as in last week’s text from the lectionary, Peter misunderstood the role of Christ as the Messiah, the disciples misunderstand their own roles in the kingdom as Christ’s companions.

    Mark’s portrayal of the disciples is challenging - we don’t like to think about the disciples as people who “didn’t get it.”  We often make them out to be the heroes of the New Testament - Peter, the father of the church.  John, the one whom Jesus loved, and James, his brother - together, they were called the Sons of Thunder!  Andrew, who traveled into the farthest reaches of the world to preach the gospel.  The list goes on - yet these same saints of the faith argued amongst each other - they got Jesus’ message mixed up in their heads and Jesus even got angry with them.  They stumble around through the gospels, tripping over their own misconceptions and making fools of themselves.  It makes me stop for a second and ask: what if?  What if the disciples had set aside their own thoughts about kingdoms and power and listened more closely to what Jesus was trying to tell them?  What if they hadn’t been afraid to ask Jesus what he meant when he said the Son of Man must be handed over to die?  What if I were in their sandals - would I have gotten it any better, or would I have left the same questions unasked and let the same fears guide me?  I like to think that I would have done things differently than the disciples, but then I realize that I can’t even bring myself to ask a professor some of my questions - so what would make my Messiah any less intimidating?

    And what if the church today were to let go of its own fears of “getting it wrong,” or looking foolish before the rest of world?  What if the church were to let go of its misconceptions, its need for power, its feelings of being “the guardians at the gate” or “defenders of the way it’s always been?”  What if our leaders, as they profess their faith and call upon Christ to guide this nation, were to demonstrate their leadership by serving instead of arguing amongst themselves over who is the greatest?  What if we were to do the same? 

    We need to wrestle with these hard questions in our faith, especially in a time where we feel more and more that the church has lost its power.  Our gut reaction is to scramble to hold on to whatever power we can, to argue about who is the greatest, and to reject or ignore those things that make us feel our powerlessness - and as we do that, we become distracted from the things that Jesus is calling us to understand because we’re too busy arguing amongst ourselves. Jesus demonstrates to the disciples that true power and greatness isn’t about position in society or about public opinion, but about serving those who are the most weak, the most vulnerable, the “least of these.”  There’s something that is enriching, challenging, and amazing that happens when we humble ourselves and serve someone who can offer us nothing in return.  And when we remember that Jesus himself has accepted and welcomed us, even when we haven’t understood, we can find hope and encouragement.  So let us boldly take our questions before the throne of God - let us take up humility as our cause that we can be great before God, and let us continue to draw nearer to God together.  To God be the glory.  Amen. 

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