I remember cracking ice on the sidewalk with the heel of my shoe.
Do you remember that?
I don’t bother doing it anymore, but when I was a child, it was a favorite pastime as I walked to school.
There are, I learned, many different kinds of ice.
There were shallow puddles that were just in the process of turning into ice – or maybe they had been ice overnight, and were now melting. I didn’t need to stomp hard on these, they gave in easily, with a very faint sigh. The cool thing you could do with these puddles was stand on the edge and reach with the toe of your shoe, and press down gently on the ice and watch the whole surface of the puddle move up and down.
There were deeper layers of ice in the gutters. You had to really stomp down hard to break these. These gave a satisfying pock sound when the heel of your boot broke through. This ice cracked along jagged lines, that looked like lightening, or the intricate branches of the trees against the winter sky.
There were the treacherous layers of black ice that could not be broken at all. They were nearly invisible, and could cause you to wipe out if you went over it on your bike.
But the best ice I ever found was in a parking lot.
My mother was late to pick me up. I found a challenging patch of ice – it was pretty thick, but when I kicked at it, I discovered it was not too thick. At length, I broke off a great jagged slab that was almost too heavy to pick up. When I lofted this magnificent shard, it hung in the air for a tense instant before crashing onto the asphalt with a tremendously satisfying explosion, breaking into a million brilliant pieces that went skittering off in all directions across the expanse of the parking lot.
**
An interesting thing happens In the passage from the Gospel of Mark that Owen just read for us.
Earlier that day, while they were walking to Capernaum, Jesus noticed that his disciples were arguing among themselves. He asks:
“What were you arguing about on the way?”
The disciples do not want to answer. They are embarrassed because they had been arguing about who, among them, would be the “greatest.”
It does not directly state, in the text, that the disciples ever actually admit to their petty concerns, but it seems as though Jesus knows anyway, because…
He sat down, called the twelve, and said to them, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.“
As is often the case with Jesus, his teaching is radical. It is unexpected.
Indeed it sounds like utter nonsense!
Has it not always been true (and does it not continue to be true today) that the people who society recognizes as “great” are the people who win?
People who win are rewarded with riches.
And power.
In the Olympics, the person who stands on the highest podium is not the one who came in last.
The highest podium and the gold medal is given to the winner… the athlete who came in first.
That athlete also gets all the product endorsements, and all the fabulous wealth.
Nike does not ask bronze medalists to help them sell their shoes.
Likewise, in an election the one who takes power is not the one who loses.
The power goes to the one who wins.
So why does Jesus say that “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all” ?
**
I remember the first time I stole something.
My best friend Ben and I were walking home from school. We’d found a shortcut through a steep patch of pine woods. It cut off a long stretch of road, but there was a snag. You had to sneak through a couple of backyards.
At the base of the incline, where the shadows of the pine trees gave way in the late afternoon, there was a beautiful vegetable garden. It was neatly arranged – probably an old lady’s labor of love.
Ben and I had walked past this lovely garden all year long. I don’t know what got into us that day. Maybe he dared me? That might have been it.
I snuck into that garden, and pulled at the nearest thing I could get my hands on.
Something emerged from the dark ground.
To my surprise, I was holding a gigantic carrot!
I fled the scene of the crime as fast as my feet could carry me – with Ben at my heels.
Near the top of the hill, we finally stopped, all flushed and out of breath. We sat down among the pines and I brushed the dirt off the carrot. There were fine little roots all over the carrot – little strands where, moments before, the carrot had reached into the earth for nutrients.
We shared the carrot, passing it back and forth.
“Gimme some!”
“Okay, okay!
The carrot was perfect! It tasted orange and green and brown. It tasted like the sun. It tasted like the rain. The faint grit of the earth that was still on its gnarled surface went right into our mouths.
We didn’t care. The carrot tasted like heaven.
Today, it is not the memory of the crime that remains. It is not the laughter and friendship that I remember. It is not the ache of muscles and loss of breath from running up through the pines that stays with me.
The single indelible memory that I carry with me, is the smell of the earth on my hands when that tremendous carrot emerged from the ground.
**
If Jesus’ disciples lived in America in 2024, they might have faith in what we call the “American dream.” The American Dream is based on the idea that anyone can be successful if they are smart and they are willing to work very hard.
If you want to be a successful lawyer, you go to years of college, and years of law school. You join a law practice and work your way up. Similarly, if you want to become a doctor, you spend decades training in Medical School and as a fellow. The same is true of the ministry. To succeed in any professional field, it goes without saying that one must be willing to do the necessary training to become an expert in that field.
In today’s global economy, professional success is directly correlated to the level of expertise one has in his or her given field.
This is all pretty basic stuff. Nothing very revolutionary here. Our economy is based on a first shall be first way of thinking.
But it should not be lost on us, that this first shall be first attitude is the direct opposite of Christ’s teaching in today’s passage. Remember? Jesus said:
“Whoever wants to be first must be last of all…”
What on earth should we do?
We claim that, as Christians, we follow Jesus. But how can we follow Jesus when Jesus tells us to do something that is the direct opposite of what we need to do in order to survive in a highly competitive economy?
**
I took the picture that is on the front cover of today’s bulletin in 2011, when Amos was 7 and Silas was 6. We were out walking with the dog, on a wooded hill that is near our house.
The walk is a loop that begins on the road that you see in the picture – but farther up, beyond the electric pole, and the patch of woods that you can see in the distance. So this picture was taken at the end of our walk, after we’d gone through the pine woods, and walked up onto the ridge.
When the boys were young I used to spend a lot of time up in those woods. They became a kind of respite – a safe place where I would go and think, as I watched the crows in the treetops and the buzzards catching the updrafts. Sometimes I went alone with the dog. Whenever I could, I’d bring the boys along to tire them out.
I remember taking this picture.
I remember smiling, and thinking about how much I loved stomping on the ice when I was a child myself.
As parents, we get to experience, again, the wonder of childhood – this time, through the eyes of our kids.
I’m sure I would’ve walked right by that patch of ice. I’m sure I was busy thinking about a million things.
But the boys stopped.
They stomped.
They discovered.
They had eyes to see.
The eyes of wonder.
In Zen Buddhist practice there is an idea. The Japanese word for this idea is Shoshin.
Shoshin can be translated as “beginner’s mind.”
The idea itself is a simple one, though it is a way of thinking that we are unfamiliar with.
Beginner’s Mind recognizes the fact that when you begin something for the first time, your mind is open.
Imagine you want to learn how to paint watercolors.
When you go to the first watercolor painting class and you sit down – at that moment, before the class begins, you are excited, but you would know nothing about painting a watercolor. At that moment, you have “beginner’s mind” – there are no theories, no practices, no techniques that are influencing the openness of your mind. The beginner’s mind is not hemmed in by ideas or prejudices. Instead your mind is tuned to wonder.
You are a child, cracking ice.
A young thief, eating a stolen carrot.
A father, seeing, once again, through the eyes of his children.
You are not premeditating your life.
You are living it.
Perhaps this can help us with the problem we spoke of earlier – the difficulty we face trying to follow a first shall be last messiah when we live in a first will be first world.
Maybe we are talking apples and oranges.
Perhaps the premeditated life – the first will be first life, is necessary for our practical, daily lives… but the first shall be last life is, as Jesus claims, necessary for our spiritual lives.
The crucial moment in this teaching comes when Jesus illustrates his point. He does not just say first shall be last and leave it at that. He knows that his disciples are confused, so…
Jesus took a little child and put it among them, and taking it in his arms he said to them, “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.”
A child, of course, is a person who needs protection. So protecting a child is an act of love – an act that welcomes Jesus.
But a child is also a person who lives without prejudices of how things are supposed to be.
A child has beginner’s mind.
Jesus is telling us – We do not need to be experts.
Instead, we need to be open.
To see with eyes of wonder.
This is the secret of greatness.
Spiritual greatness.
Amen