18th Sunday after Pentecost

Proper 20B: Proverbs 31:10-31, Psalm 1, James 3:13-4:3, 7-8a, Mark 9:30-37

The Rev. Jennifer B. Cleveland

LeBron or Michael? Serena or Navratilova? Star Trek or Star Wars? The Beatles or the Rolling Stones? The Huskies or the Cougs? (I can say that because both teams won yesterday!) This question that the disciples get caught discussing is as old as time. Who is the greatest? It’s not the oldest question in scripture. That honor arguably goes to the age-old question that comes in Genesis 3, a question that arises so early in the biblical narrative that Adam and Eve haven’t even been named yet. The first age-old question comes up in Genesis chapter 3 after the woman eats the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge: Who is to blame?  And the second question—Who is the greatest?—is not far behind. In Genesis 4, Cain and Abel are born. The brothers grow up and both extend offerings to God. In the midst of it all, though, Cain concludes (erroneously) that God has unfairly decided Abel is the greatest, the best, the number 1 son and even though God reassures Cain that all is well—that Cain, too, is favored—the next thing we know, Cain has invited his younger brother out to the field to kill him. 

It is safe to say this question—Who is the greatest?—has been around for a long time. Because this question appears from the get-go, in the first sibling relationship of the first offspring of the first couple in Genesis, this comparative approach to life has sometimes been called the Sibling Rivalry approach to life. Sibling rivalry comes up alot in scripture. Jacab and Esau. Joseph and his brothers. And here, today, in this gospel, the disciples, making clear that the Sibling Rivalry approach to life is not limited to blood relatives.

Judging by the disciples’ embarrassed silence when Jesus asks them what they have been arguing about as they walk along, it is safe to say that they seemed to understand that to wonder who is the greatest is not the greatest of questions. The disciples’ response reminds me of our family dog, Felix. Although Felix has been gone for a few years now, I well remember his frequent attempts to steal food from the kitchen counter. When successful—which he was, more often than I care to admit, as we humans in our household never seemed to learn that he was always on the lookout for a good opportunity!—he would run out the back door as fast as he could, the purloined item in his mouth, straight to the farthest corner of the fenced-in quarter-acre backyard, with his back to the house. Even though he always hoped we wouldn’t notice what he had done, he knew deep down the reaction he would get if we did notice. When I went out to try to reclaim whatever he had taken, he remained absolutely still and would not look me in the eye. He was a quiet dog who communicated a lot through his big, brown eyes and wide-open mouth, seemingly open in a perpetual smile, except when he did something he knew wasn’t quite right, he averted his body and gaze. 

It is impossible to avoid this question Who is the greatest? because, honestly, it is everywhere. In families, yes, but also at work, in school, at church, in friendships. Wherever we find ourselves in relationship, questions of comparison come up. We get caught up in comparisons all the time. While it is really fun to debate who is the greatest when it comes to sports or music or tv / movie or other rivalries—Brady or Mahomes? Lord of the Rings or Game of Thrones?—Sibling Rivalry is a different beast. 

Who do you love more, God? Who is more valuable, Holy One, Creator of all? Who is a better person? That is what the disciples were really arguing about. And why Jesus takes it so seriously. He immediately stops, sits down, calls them all in for a reset. Since I’m throwing in a few sports references this morning, it’s the first century equivalent of an immediate timeout and half-time locker room talk all thrown in together. He doesn’t gather them together and chastise them for having the conversation—after all, this sort of urge to compare comes up all the time for us humans—but to remind them that that line of questioning—Who is the greatest? —is distracting. And even more concerning, Sibling Rivalry questions distort perspective from the get go. Who is worth more? Who do you love more? These are questions that miss the very heart of the generative and generous abundance of Divine Love. These are questions that lead to death, if we take the story of Cain and Abel seriously. These are questions that distort God’s very vision of community. 

According to Sibling Rivalry, the world looks a lot like a pyramid with very, very few people at the top. The classic structure of a world based on dominion of some who oversee all. Wherever you find yourself in the pyramid, if you look up - those are the ones with more power. Look down - those are the unlucky ones with less power. The pyramid tends to be set up with those very few at the top, followed by the people and the animals we love, and then on down to the animals and people we have respect for, but keep going down and finally you get to the slugs and the mosquitoes and all the rest. Jesus turns the hierarchical pyramid that lives in our brains and in our hearts on its pointy head this morning, reminding the disciples and us, Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all. In other words, this morning is a reminder that the hierarchical approach is basically a pyramid scheme that robs all of the fullness of life. Cain might have been the first to buy into the pyramid scheme that is Sibling Rivalry, but he and the disciples weren’t the last. It’s not hard to find examples of Sibling Rivalry! Any time creation has been treated as a thing for humans to do with as we wish? Sibling Rivalry. Anytime some people decide that other people are less worthy or not even people? Sibling Rivalry.

To illustrate his point, Jesus puts a child in the midst. This is interesting to me because children have a lot of conversations about who is the greatest. I cannot tell you how many recess arguments come up every single day that are about who is the best or who is most right. I do not think that Jesus is idealizing children, so I wonder who the child represents. And it reminds of the short parable-like poem by e.e. cummings: always the beautiful answer // who asks a more beautiful question.

Instead of arguing about who is the greatest, What is the more beautiful question? Jesus wonders with the disciples. As you look at this person—be it a child or anyone else— what do you see? Do you see me? To use some of the descriptors we heard about the woman in Proverbs, As you look at this person, or any aspect of this world that I love so much, Do you see the strength and dignity? The laughter? The wisdom? My open heart? Others’ open hands? The warm kindness at the heart of it all? Grace is throwing a party and it is not complete unless you and that child and everyone else is fully welcome.* So keep asking beautiful questions like Who still needs to hear the good news that the party of all creation is for them?*

*This is based on a quote by Frederick Buechner, in Somehow, Anne Lamott, p. 78: The grace of God means something like: ‘Here is your life. You might never have been, but you are, because the party wouldn’t have been complete without you.”