Importance
Commentary
Do you remember Rudyard Kipling’s tale of “How the Camel Got Its Hump”? At the dawn of creation, according to Kipling, God gave each of his wonderful animals a job to do. Working together they began to prepare the new world for the coming of humankind.
The only one among them that would not work was the camel. Whenever the other animals asked for his help, he just said, “Humph!!” and walked away. The camel, according to Kipling, thought he was better than all the other animals, so he “Humph!!”ed around every day with his proud nose in the air, and a disdainful swagger in his legs.
But when God saw what was happening, he collected all of the haughty camel’s “Humph!!”s, and one day dumped them right down onto the camel’s back. And that, said Kipling, is how the camel got its hump.
Proud people a lot like camels, aren’t they? Noses in the air, swaggering steps, and humps of self-importance pushing up wherever they invade the company of others. Mid-20th century Italian dictator Benito Mussolini played the part so well. Although he was short of stature, he was long on pride. People used to say that he could strut even when he was sitting down. A newspaper once reported that “He was a solemn procession of one.”
Pride is a funny thing. It is an extension of many very good qualities that God has given us as gifts. Why, then, does a great athlete cross the line from confidence to cockiness? What pushes a beautiful woman from graciousness to arrogance? When does a businessman step up one rung too high on the ladder of success and become self-important?
Today’s lectionary readings all focus on perceived self-importance, and the manner in which we rank ourselves or others. Almost comical is our gospel reading, where the most important person in our world is despised by other who do not consider him to be important in the manner that they would like. How fascinating!
1 Samuel 5:1-5, 9-10
High priest Eli’s sons, who are priests, are wicked men. They fail to mediate between Israel and Yahweh. They rob the people to feed their own gluttony. They mishandle the sacrifices, although the rituals are clearly spelled out. They have sexual relations with women at the tabernacle, just like the priest and prostitutes at the fertility shrines of other nations and gods. They fail to heed their father’s admonitions. And then, to top it off, they presume leadership of the armies of Israel, and brazenly take the Ark of the Covenant into battle as a weapon of war!
Yet in the battles against the neighboring Philistines, the Israelites are impotent. Not only do they lose the war, but the throne of their God—the Ark of the Covenant—is captured by the enemy through the foolishness of Eli’s sons. Still, Yahweh personally battles the Philistines and their god Dagon, until the Philistines recognize defeat and send the Ark home. In the end, it is Samuel alone (1 Samuel 7) who can reconcile Israel back to Yahweh, and turn the page on this horrible chapter, with a clear divine deliverance from the Philistines.
2 Corinthians 12:2-10
In the opening passages of 1 Corinthians, Paul addressed the difficulties some have about his continued influence in the congregation. Paul chastised the members for dividing themselves into parties where each waved a banner acclaiming the worthiness of a different leader. These groupings were sinful and disruptive, according to Paul, for they denied the honor that ought to be given only to the true head of the church, Jesus Christ. Such schisms also played favorites among human leaders, seeking to set them against each other, rather than recognizing their complementary gifts for helping the church as a whole to grow. By chapter 4, Paul was ready to give a declaration for his own apostolic authority, pleading with the Corinthians to receive his teachings as God’s own initiatives toward them.
Here, in 2 Corinthians 12, once again Paul defended his apostolic authority and ministry (2 Corinthians 10–12), basing these in his divine calling, his servant lifestyle, and his different motives from those of the “false apostles” who were circling about as if to create names and kingdoms for themselves. Completing this review of his credentials, Paul told of his one-time profound vision of God’s glory, and how this had been coupled with the humbling weakness of his body. Together, these empowered Paul’s passionate concern for the Corinthians. Paul closed this otherwise engaging letter with somewhat fearful anticipations of the confrontations he might again face when he arrived next in Corinth. He ended, though, with a clear sense of longing for the warmth he expected on the occasion of their reunion (2 Corinthians 13).
There is no other congregation of the first-century Christian church about which we know more than the one in Corinth. Paul’s constant contact with this troublesome fellowship over half a decade produced the New Testament’s clearest teachings concerning the church’s ministry practices, and a host of intimate reflections on the development of life and leadership in a local outpost of the kingdom of God. For this reason alone, 1 and 2 Corinthians are a priceless treasure, always being mined and refined by later generations of Christians who continue to wrestle with the same issues and problems, and who seek to claim similar joys and hopes.
Mark 6:1-13
When Erik Eriksen wrote his famous biography of Martin Luther he observed that all of us endure similar experiences of life, but that what makes some people special is their ability to ferret out their truest selves through those adventures. In Luther’s case it became a matter of “Greatness Finding Itself,” and that’s what Eriksen titled his study.
Eriksen said that one of the main crises of life was the quest to hang onto integrity. It is very hard, he said, for us to keep ourselves together. Even though we are mostly good people, we tend to break little pieces of our hearts off here and there, thinking we will serve some greater good in the long run. We may never destroy ourselves in some heinous crime or gross violation of decency. Still we frazzle the edges of our souls through compromise in a dozen minor matters.
This is a perplexing issue, however, since we all need self-esteem to function to our fullest potential. The concern in the Bible becomes a matter of where that self-esteem originates. When we are loved by another, our self-esteem grows. The source of the power is located outside of ourselves and energizes us to be the best we can be. Once we fall in love with ourselves, the empowerment becomes cancerous, and we destroy the very qualities that might otherwise make us lovely.
Tony Campolo said it well. When he was in seminary, taking his first class in preaching, he was already a very gifted speaker. After his first “practice” sermon to his fellow-students and professor, his peers praised him up one side and down the other. He couldn’t wait to see what his professor wrote.
The evaluation came back with a single line in red marking ink: “Tony, you can’t convince people that you’re wonderful and that Jesus is wonderful in the same sermon.”
Jesus never tried to convince anyone that he was important. But his importance became evident to all who met him. Except, as our gospel reading for today indicates, those who wanted him to be their important person. When he refused to do that, because that was not the person he was, they despised him.
Do we meet Jesus as the person he truly is? Or do we secretly despise him for not being the person we want him to be for us?
Application
Frank Fowler tells this amazing story: During World War II, 1,500 international noncombatant prisoners of war were held by the Japanese in a prison camp. Three hundred were Americans, 1,200 were of other Allied nationalities. The American Red Cross sent 2,100 “care packages” to the camp, each with some necessities and some conveniences.
The Japanese decided that since these came from America, each American should get three packages, and all of the non-Americans would get one package apiece. But the Americans protested; as a group they demanded that they each get seven Red Cross packages, and their non-American allies get none!
Self-centeredness dies slowly in the human heart. We are born frail and helpless, but spend our years asserting our importance. When the French philosopher Auguste Comte was about to die, he murmured to those at his bedside, “What an irreparable loss!” As Nero, the mad emperor of Rome, prepared to commit suicide, he wept for himself, crying, “How great an artist dies here!” And the German philosopher Hegel took
this parting shot: “Only one man ever understood me. . .. And he didn’t understand me!”
Self-importance is connected to the strong sense of worth that is our because God made us in his own image. It is when we forget about that basis for our worth that we become inflated with pride, and actually shrink to caricatures of our truest selves.
Only Jesus, the one man who never inflated his self-image, can help us know ourselves as we truly are, and live as if we mattered. In exactly the right manner!
Alternative Application (Mark 6:1-13)
The ancient Greeks tried to define the transition from piety to pride in the story of Narcissus. Narcissus was a wonderfully beautiful young man, greatly talented and admired. Unfortunately he had ears large enough to hear the whispers of appreciation that buzzed through every crowd when he approached. Soon he began to believe what others said, and then fell in love with himself.
One day, he was scrambling through the rocks of the hills on a hunt. Thirsty, he paused at a pool in the hollows, and bent down to drink. But before his lips broke the mirrored surface he caught sight of a marvelous water nymph staring at him from below. He was entranced by the beautiful face, the wonderful eyes, the marvelous nose and chin, and reached down to embrace the nymph.
Yet when he disturbed the water it seemed as if the nymph scurried away. That pained him deeply and he began to cry. But when the ripples subsided, the nymph was back. Though Narcissus didn’t seem to catch on, he was actually seeing himself.
Over and over the scene repeated itself—Narcissus staring in love at his own reflection in the pool—until he finally fell famished to his death!
The point was clear: the moment we begin to love ourselves as the highest good, we lose the power to live authentically. We cross the line from piety to pride when we become the object of our own appreciation.
Only when we see someone who is truly important, like Jesus, do we begin again to understand our place in life. Funny thing is, Jesus makes us each feel more important than we ever thought possible in our trite self-hype.
The only one among them that would not work was the camel. Whenever the other animals asked for his help, he just said, “Humph!!” and walked away. The camel, according to Kipling, thought he was better than all the other animals, so he “Humph!!”ed around every day with his proud nose in the air, and a disdainful swagger in his legs.
But when God saw what was happening, he collected all of the haughty camel’s “Humph!!”s, and one day dumped them right down onto the camel’s back. And that, said Kipling, is how the camel got its hump.
Proud people a lot like camels, aren’t they? Noses in the air, swaggering steps, and humps of self-importance pushing up wherever they invade the company of others. Mid-20th century Italian dictator Benito Mussolini played the part so well. Although he was short of stature, he was long on pride. People used to say that he could strut even when he was sitting down. A newspaper once reported that “He was a solemn procession of one.”
Pride is a funny thing. It is an extension of many very good qualities that God has given us as gifts. Why, then, does a great athlete cross the line from confidence to cockiness? What pushes a beautiful woman from graciousness to arrogance? When does a businessman step up one rung too high on the ladder of success and become self-important?
Today’s lectionary readings all focus on perceived self-importance, and the manner in which we rank ourselves or others. Almost comical is our gospel reading, where the most important person in our world is despised by other who do not consider him to be important in the manner that they would like. How fascinating!
1 Samuel 5:1-5, 9-10
High priest Eli’s sons, who are priests, are wicked men. They fail to mediate between Israel and Yahweh. They rob the people to feed their own gluttony. They mishandle the sacrifices, although the rituals are clearly spelled out. They have sexual relations with women at the tabernacle, just like the priest and prostitutes at the fertility shrines of other nations and gods. They fail to heed their father’s admonitions. And then, to top it off, they presume leadership of the armies of Israel, and brazenly take the Ark of the Covenant into battle as a weapon of war!
Yet in the battles against the neighboring Philistines, the Israelites are impotent. Not only do they lose the war, but the throne of their God—the Ark of the Covenant—is captured by the enemy through the foolishness of Eli’s sons. Still, Yahweh personally battles the Philistines and their god Dagon, until the Philistines recognize defeat and send the Ark home. In the end, it is Samuel alone (1 Samuel 7) who can reconcile Israel back to Yahweh, and turn the page on this horrible chapter, with a clear divine deliverance from the Philistines.
2 Corinthians 12:2-10
In the opening passages of 1 Corinthians, Paul addressed the difficulties some have about his continued influence in the congregation. Paul chastised the members for dividing themselves into parties where each waved a banner acclaiming the worthiness of a different leader. These groupings were sinful and disruptive, according to Paul, for they denied the honor that ought to be given only to the true head of the church, Jesus Christ. Such schisms also played favorites among human leaders, seeking to set them against each other, rather than recognizing their complementary gifts for helping the church as a whole to grow. By chapter 4, Paul was ready to give a declaration for his own apostolic authority, pleading with the Corinthians to receive his teachings as God’s own initiatives toward them.
Here, in 2 Corinthians 12, once again Paul defended his apostolic authority and ministry (2 Corinthians 10–12), basing these in his divine calling, his servant lifestyle, and his different motives from those of the “false apostles” who were circling about as if to create names and kingdoms for themselves. Completing this review of his credentials, Paul told of his one-time profound vision of God’s glory, and how this had been coupled with the humbling weakness of his body. Together, these empowered Paul’s passionate concern for the Corinthians. Paul closed this otherwise engaging letter with somewhat fearful anticipations of the confrontations he might again face when he arrived next in Corinth. He ended, though, with a clear sense of longing for the warmth he expected on the occasion of their reunion (2 Corinthians 13).
There is no other congregation of the first-century Christian church about which we know more than the one in Corinth. Paul’s constant contact with this troublesome fellowship over half a decade produced the New Testament’s clearest teachings concerning the church’s ministry practices, and a host of intimate reflections on the development of life and leadership in a local outpost of the kingdom of God. For this reason alone, 1 and 2 Corinthians are a priceless treasure, always being mined and refined by later generations of Christians who continue to wrestle with the same issues and problems, and who seek to claim similar joys and hopes.
Mark 6:1-13
When Erik Eriksen wrote his famous biography of Martin Luther he observed that all of us endure similar experiences of life, but that what makes some people special is their ability to ferret out their truest selves through those adventures. In Luther’s case it became a matter of “Greatness Finding Itself,” and that’s what Eriksen titled his study.
Eriksen said that one of the main crises of life was the quest to hang onto integrity. It is very hard, he said, for us to keep ourselves together. Even though we are mostly good people, we tend to break little pieces of our hearts off here and there, thinking we will serve some greater good in the long run. We may never destroy ourselves in some heinous crime or gross violation of decency. Still we frazzle the edges of our souls through compromise in a dozen minor matters.
This is a perplexing issue, however, since we all need self-esteem to function to our fullest potential. The concern in the Bible becomes a matter of where that self-esteem originates. When we are loved by another, our self-esteem grows. The source of the power is located outside of ourselves and energizes us to be the best we can be. Once we fall in love with ourselves, the empowerment becomes cancerous, and we destroy the very qualities that might otherwise make us lovely.
Tony Campolo said it well. When he was in seminary, taking his first class in preaching, he was already a very gifted speaker. After his first “practice” sermon to his fellow-students and professor, his peers praised him up one side and down the other. He couldn’t wait to see what his professor wrote.
The evaluation came back with a single line in red marking ink: “Tony, you can’t convince people that you’re wonderful and that Jesus is wonderful in the same sermon.”
Jesus never tried to convince anyone that he was important. But his importance became evident to all who met him. Except, as our gospel reading for today indicates, those who wanted him to be their important person. When he refused to do that, because that was not the person he was, they despised him.
Do we meet Jesus as the person he truly is? Or do we secretly despise him for not being the person we want him to be for us?
Application
Frank Fowler tells this amazing story: During World War II, 1,500 international noncombatant prisoners of war were held by the Japanese in a prison camp. Three hundred were Americans, 1,200 were of other Allied nationalities. The American Red Cross sent 2,100 “care packages” to the camp, each with some necessities and some conveniences.
The Japanese decided that since these came from America, each American should get three packages, and all of the non-Americans would get one package apiece. But the Americans protested; as a group they demanded that they each get seven Red Cross packages, and their non-American allies get none!
Self-centeredness dies slowly in the human heart. We are born frail and helpless, but spend our years asserting our importance. When the French philosopher Auguste Comte was about to die, he murmured to those at his bedside, “What an irreparable loss!” As Nero, the mad emperor of Rome, prepared to commit suicide, he wept for himself, crying, “How great an artist dies here!” And the German philosopher Hegel took
this parting shot: “Only one man ever understood me. . .. And he didn’t understand me!”
Self-importance is connected to the strong sense of worth that is our because God made us in his own image. It is when we forget about that basis for our worth that we become inflated with pride, and actually shrink to caricatures of our truest selves.
Only Jesus, the one man who never inflated his self-image, can help us know ourselves as we truly are, and live as if we mattered. In exactly the right manner!
Alternative Application (Mark 6:1-13)
The ancient Greeks tried to define the transition from piety to pride in the story of Narcissus. Narcissus was a wonderfully beautiful young man, greatly talented and admired. Unfortunately he had ears large enough to hear the whispers of appreciation that buzzed through every crowd when he approached. Soon he began to believe what others said, and then fell in love with himself.
One day, he was scrambling through the rocks of the hills on a hunt. Thirsty, he paused at a pool in the hollows, and bent down to drink. But before his lips broke the mirrored surface he caught sight of a marvelous water nymph staring at him from below. He was entranced by the beautiful face, the wonderful eyes, the marvelous nose and chin, and reached down to embrace the nymph.
Yet when he disturbed the water it seemed as if the nymph scurried away. That pained him deeply and he began to cry. But when the ripples subsided, the nymph was back. Though Narcissus didn’t seem to catch on, he was actually seeing himself.
Over and over the scene repeated itself—Narcissus staring in love at his own reflection in the pool—until he finally fell famished to his death!
The point was clear: the moment we begin to love ourselves as the highest good, we lose the power to live authentically. We cross the line from piety to pride when we become the object of our own appreciation.
Only when we see someone who is truly important, like Jesus, do we begin again to understand our place in life. Funny thing is, Jesus makes us each feel more important than we ever thought possible in our trite self-hype.
