Portrait Of A Powerful Servant
Sermon
THE GREATEST WONDER OF ALL
Sermons for Lent and Easter
Jesus loved to paint portraits for the soul. He did it through his actions as well as his words. Indeed, his whole life was a powerful illustration. On the particular night to which our texts bear witness, the image Jesus will etch into the memories of his disciples will be so powerful that they will never again be able to think of him without reference to this event.
Writer Walter Wangerin suggests that the atmosphere of that evening was shrouded in mystery and filled with intrigue. There was the meal held in secret, the carefully plotted plan: "Listen," the householder said, "let’s use a signal. I’ll send a man with a jar of water through the city." (Usually women carried jars of water, while men bore wineskins.) "Have your disciples follow him. No words. No talk. I’ll furnish the upper room."
The stage was set. The time was ripe. One by one the disciples came, trudging along dusty streets to celebrate the Passover with Jesus; it was to be their last supper with him. They entered the house and waited for the Lord to come. As they sat there they began to quarrel over which of them would be the greatest in the kingdom that Jesus, the Messiah, would establish. They wondered where in the cabinet each might be placed. Who would be in the positions of greatest power? Who would have the Messiah’s ear at the time of political or religious crisis? Each had reasons for assuming that he would play a major role. Certainly the enthusiastic demonstration of the people which accompanied Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem would thrust Jesus into the political forefront and initiate the coming of his kingdom.
The discussion apparently prevented them from carrying out the foot-cleansing which one usually engaged in upon entering a home. And because the roads were dirt, and people wore sandals, everyone who came into a house entered with filthy feet.
Normally a servant (the lowliest person on the staff) was assigned the dismal duty of removing the sandals and washing the feet of each one who arrived. The disciples, seeing that there was no one present to carry out the task, knew that they should take turns at that wretched job - but nobody moved. They all sat there with grimy feet, glaring at each other and jabbering about who was most important. Nobody took the basin and no one reached for a towel. Each one, wanting to be served, refused to stoop and wash another’s feet.
So they sat, self-satisfied and sullen, until Jesus came. Then he, who truly was the greatest, the One unto whom all power on heaven and earth had been given, humbled himself. His hands gripped the basin and the towel and he calmly and lovingly began to wash their feet. The silence screamed in their ears as Jesus went from disciple to disciple. Shamed and shocked they watched as their Lord carried out that menial task. In this act, Christ became the servant. Imagine! God on his knees because of the arrogance of the disciples. Do you suppose they would ever forget that image?
When he finished, he said to them: "Do you understand what I have just done for you?" The disciples must have nodded their collective heads but, understanding it was beyond them. Jesus went on, "You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Lord,’ and rightly so, for that is what I am. Now I, your Lord and Teacher, have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you."
Jesus was not suggesting that they go about the countryside washing people’s feet. That misses the point. Indeed, the modern custom of foot-washing is a mere practice of piety because it is an anachronism, a once useful practice which is no longer appropriate. Jesus did not deal in mere symbols. He did what needed to be done and did not observe customs and rituals for their own sake. The example Jesus burned into the memories of his disciples was the portrait of a servant. He wanted them to know that the highest calling in life is not to be served but to serve. God called them, as he does us, to minister to the real needs of others. That is the way Jesus used his power and authority and that is the way the disciples are to operate in the world.
But to insure that they understood, Jesus says, "Gentiles lord it over others; it shall not be so with you." Some would see in this statement an admonition against the use of power and authority. Quite the contrary! For if no one is empowered there is little progress, if no one is given authority there is no accountability. Even the most egalitarian societies, if they are to remain viable must have dynamic leadership incarnated in individuals. The Hebrew nation found that out. Initially established as a theocracy, they soon discovered that, due to human weakness, it was unable to cope with the problems it faced and so asked God’s benediction on a monarchy. In our weakest moments a community of equals appeals to us because of our own insecurities and belligerence (we don’t want anyone telling us what to do) and so we are apt to sacrifice the common good for our own ego needs and accompany it with all kinds of pious chatter.
Power in itself is not an evil thing, nor is the pursuit of it incompatible with God’s design. The passion to learn, the pursuit of excellence - evidence of our desire for power - have been implanted in us as part of the Divine image. Indeed, Jesus promised power to the apostles (Acts 1:8) before he ascended. What is at issue here is not power as such but its use. Jesus saw power as an instrument not of control but of caring, as a vehicle not of submission but of servanthood.
Consider Jesus in relationship to those who surrounded him that night in the upper room. Some smugly folded their hands, pondering positions of power. Others firmly clenched their hands refusing to move, lest they reveal any sign of weakness. But Jesus reached out for the basin and the towel to serve the disciples even though he knew that they would betray and desert him that very night, and that he would be brought to trial and finally die by crucifixion. While the disciples were thinking only of themselves, Jesus, in whom the power of God resided, emptied himself and gave himself to those for whom he cared. He didn’t worry about himself, how he felt, whom he could impress; the hands of the servant do not ask, "What will others think?" He saw the need, he rolled up his sleeves, he grabbed the basin and the towel and he went to work. In this humble but powerful way, Jesus began to transform the thinking of his disciples.
But like the disciples, it is hard for us to understand because we tend to use power as a show of force, to manipulate, to get what we want. It has always been that way. Go as far back in history as you wish, and you will see the problem illustrated. You will discover the struggle between the two approaches to the use of power, between the manipulator and the servant.
One can see the conflict in the Egyptian court when Moses the servant stood before Pharaoh the manipulator and cried, "Let my people go!" One can see it in the Roman court when Pilate, representing the kingdom of submission and domination, shouted, "Do you not know I have the power to free you or crucify you?" The polarities of power have always existed - that of manipulation and that of caring, that of submission and that of servanthood. Not so strange then that the disciples were taken aback by the Master who became the servant.
Following the pharaohs and the pilates has always been a temptation not only for people, but for nations and for churches. Often we feel powerless, so when we become part of a group which has clout, the temptation to exercise power like a sledgehammer is supremely seductive. And our generation has greater and more kinds of power at our disposal than any other peoples in all of history. We as a nation have more opportunities to serve this world in bringing peace and security than ever before, but we must constantly fight the urges of self-interest which, lording it over others, would alienate them from us.
The church is subject to the same uses of power. Basically there are two options. The first is to divide up into interest groups and bring the church to its knees, demanding that it submit to our ideas, utilize our language, conform to our concepts of what we want the church to do. The second is to selflessly serve in such a manner that we communicate the grace of God which can bring us together in ways which will make us truly great and strong.
Expecting Christians to be selflessness may be very idealistic because the trend in our society and in our church is not to turn outward but inward. Someone said, "You can tell the way society is heading by looking at the titles of our magazines. We used to have Life, then came People, and then Us. The next step, as we become increasingly self-centered, is Me." It should not have surprised me therefore to see on a newsstand the other day the magazine, Self.
Still God calls each of us to follow the example of Jesus by expending our lives in servanthood and service. That was clearly the message as Jesus instituted the sacrament of holy communion. In giving the bread and wine Jesus said to the disciples, "I am giving myself to you." From that moment on, when they received the Lord’s supper they were reminded that they had also been called upon to give of themselves.
Today, too, the living Lord approaches us as we come to the altar and says, "Here, take and eat, this is my body. Take this cup and divide it among yourselves." Don’t you see? Jesus asks us to keep doing this so that we might never forget that the servant Lord continues to give and give and give. One might say that the eucharist is "living proof" of God’s expensive expenditure, that he did not count the cost but gave us everything he had to give. In this dynamic experience we become recipients of God’s power and grace.
In the sacrament of the altar we view again the portrait painted by the Lord centuries ago in the upper room. Like the disciples before us we watch as Jesus gives unstintingly of himself, without thought as to what it cost him. Fatigue and personal pains are disregarded as Jesus stoops to serve. He does not share with us only superficial stuff. What he gives is not the leftovers of his life or the time he has to spare. He gives from the depths of his being, of his sweat, of his strength, and ultimately of his own body and blood.
So the scene drawn by Jesus that night in the upper room was one of a powerful servant motivated by an unrelenting love. In that moment the disciples were given an illustration of such impact that it would remain in memory as long as they had breath. His actions were those of an unabashed lover - giving a new dimension to the disciples’ understanding of his life, his ministry. He loved without embarrassment, without reservation. He loved without requiring love in return. In spite of the stubborn pride of the disciples, Jesus went to work. And he says to us, as he said long ago to the disciples, "Do you know what I have done? I have given you an example that you also should do as I have done to you, so that as I was sent to serve, so send I you." He couldn’t be clearer.
But we aren’t to go off on our own without being empowered. So we have come to be fed with food for our faith, potent food, servant food. It isn’t much, a little bit of bread and a swallow of wine, but when blessed by the Spirit it is enough, enough to nourish us for the life of powerful servanthood. Amen.
____________
1. Wangerin, Jr., Walter. "Reliving the Passion," Creative Communications for the Parish, St. Louis, MO. p. 11
Writer Walter Wangerin suggests that the atmosphere of that evening was shrouded in mystery and filled with intrigue. There was the meal held in secret, the carefully plotted plan: "Listen," the householder said, "let’s use a signal. I’ll send a man with a jar of water through the city." (Usually women carried jars of water, while men bore wineskins.) "Have your disciples follow him. No words. No talk. I’ll furnish the upper room."
The stage was set. The time was ripe. One by one the disciples came, trudging along dusty streets to celebrate the Passover with Jesus; it was to be their last supper with him. They entered the house and waited for the Lord to come. As they sat there they began to quarrel over which of them would be the greatest in the kingdom that Jesus, the Messiah, would establish. They wondered where in the cabinet each might be placed. Who would be in the positions of greatest power? Who would have the Messiah’s ear at the time of political or religious crisis? Each had reasons for assuming that he would play a major role. Certainly the enthusiastic demonstration of the people which accompanied Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem would thrust Jesus into the political forefront and initiate the coming of his kingdom.
The discussion apparently prevented them from carrying out the foot-cleansing which one usually engaged in upon entering a home. And because the roads were dirt, and people wore sandals, everyone who came into a house entered with filthy feet.
Normally a servant (the lowliest person on the staff) was assigned the dismal duty of removing the sandals and washing the feet of each one who arrived. The disciples, seeing that there was no one present to carry out the task, knew that they should take turns at that wretched job - but nobody moved. They all sat there with grimy feet, glaring at each other and jabbering about who was most important. Nobody took the basin and no one reached for a towel. Each one, wanting to be served, refused to stoop and wash another’s feet.
So they sat, self-satisfied and sullen, until Jesus came. Then he, who truly was the greatest, the One unto whom all power on heaven and earth had been given, humbled himself. His hands gripped the basin and the towel and he calmly and lovingly began to wash their feet. The silence screamed in their ears as Jesus went from disciple to disciple. Shamed and shocked they watched as their Lord carried out that menial task. In this act, Christ became the servant. Imagine! God on his knees because of the arrogance of the disciples. Do you suppose they would ever forget that image?
When he finished, he said to them: "Do you understand what I have just done for you?" The disciples must have nodded their collective heads but, understanding it was beyond them. Jesus went on, "You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Lord,’ and rightly so, for that is what I am. Now I, your Lord and Teacher, have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you."
Jesus was not suggesting that they go about the countryside washing people’s feet. That misses the point. Indeed, the modern custom of foot-washing is a mere practice of piety because it is an anachronism, a once useful practice which is no longer appropriate. Jesus did not deal in mere symbols. He did what needed to be done and did not observe customs and rituals for their own sake. The example Jesus burned into the memories of his disciples was the portrait of a servant. He wanted them to know that the highest calling in life is not to be served but to serve. God called them, as he does us, to minister to the real needs of others. That is the way Jesus used his power and authority and that is the way the disciples are to operate in the world.
But to insure that they understood, Jesus says, "Gentiles lord it over others; it shall not be so with you." Some would see in this statement an admonition against the use of power and authority. Quite the contrary! For if no one is empowered there is little progress, if no one is given authority there is no accountability. Even the most egalitarian societies, if they are to remain viable must have dynamic leadership incarnated in individuals. The Hebrew nation found that out. Initially established as a theocracy, they soon discovered that, due to human weakness, it was unable to cope with the problems it faced and so asked God’s benediction on a monarchy. In our weakest moments a community of equals appeals to us because of our own insecurities and belligerence (we don’t want anyone telling us what to do) and so we are apt to sacrifice the common good for our own ego needs and accompany it with all kinds of pious chatter.
Power in itself is not an evil thing, nor is the pursuit of it incompatible with God’s design. The passion to learn, the pursuit of excellence - evidence of our desire for power - have been implanted in us as part of the Divine image. Indeed, Jesus promised power to the apostles (Acts 1:8) before he ascended. What is at issue here is not power as such but its use. Jesus saw power as an instrument not of control but of caring, as a vehicle not of submission but of servanthood.
Consider Jesus in relationship to those who surrounded him that night in the upper room. Some smugly folded their hands, pondering positions of power. Others firmly clenched their hands refusing to move, lest they reveal any sign of weakness. But Jesus reached out for the basin and the towel to serve the disciples even though he knew that they would betray and desert him that very night, and that he would be brought to trial and finally die by crucifixion. While the disciples were thinking only of themselves, Jesus, in whom the power of God resided, emptied himself and gave himself to those for whom he cared. He didn’t worry about himself, how he felt, whom he could impress; the hands of the servant do not ask, "What will others think?" He saw the need, he rolled up his sleeves, he grabbed the basin and the towel and he went to work. In this humble but powerful way, Jesus began to transform the thinking of his disciples.
But like the disciples, it is hard for us to understand because we tend to use power as a show of force, to manipulate, to get what we want. It has always been that way. Go as far back in history as you wish, and you will see the problem illustrated. You will discover the struggle between the two approaches to the use of power, between the manipulator and the servant.
One can see the conflict in the Egyptian court when Moses the servant stood before Pharaoh the manipulator and cried, "Let my people go!" One can see it in the Roman court when Pilate, representing the kingdom of submission and domination, shouted, "Do you not know I have the power to free you or crucify you?" The polarities of power have always existed - that of manipulation and that of caring, that of submission and that of servanthood. Not so strange then that the disciples were taken aback by the Master who became the servant.
Following the pharaohs and the pilates has always been a temptation not only for people, but for nations and for churches. Often we feel powerless, so when we become part of a group which has clout, the temptation to exercise power like a sledgehammer is supremely seductive. And our generation has greater and more kinds of power at our disposal than any other peoples in all of history. We as a nation have more opportunities to serve this world in bringing peace and security than ever before, but we must constantly fight the urges of self-interest which, lording it over others, would alienate them from us.
The church is subject to the same uses of power. Basically there are two options. The first is to divide up into interest groups and bring the church to its knees, demanding that it submit to our ideas, utilize our language, conform to our concepts of what we want the church to do. The second is to selflessly serve in such a manner that we communicate the grace of God which can bring us together in ways which will make us truly great and strong.
Expecting Christians to be selflessness may be very idealistic because the trend in our society and in our church is not to turn outward but inward. Someone said, "You can tell the way society is heading by looking at the titles of our magazines. We used to have Life, then came People, and then Us. The next step, as we become increasingly self-centered, is Me." It should not have surprised me therefore to see on a newsstand the other day the magazine, Self.
Still God calls each of us to follow the example of Jesus by expending our lives in servanthood and service. That was clearly the message as Jesus instituted the sacrament of holy communion. In giving the bread and wine Jesus said to the disciples, "I am giving myself to you." From that moment on, when they received the Lord’s supper they were reminded that they had also been called upon to give of themselves.
Today, too, the living Lord approaches us as we come to the altar and says, "Here, take and eat, this is my body. Take this cup and divide it among yourselves." Don’t you see? Jesus asks us to keep doing this so that we might never forget that the servant Lord continues to give and give and give. One might say that the eucharist is "living proof" of God’s expensive expenditure, that he did not count the cost but gave us everything he had to give. In this dynamic experience we become recipients of God’s power and grace.
In the sacrament of the altar we view again the portrait painted by the Lord centuries ago in the upper room. Like the disciples before us we watch as Jesus gives unstintingly of himself, without thought as to what it cost him. Fatigue and personal pains are disregarded as Jesus stoops to serve. He does not share with us only superficial stuff. What he gives is not the leftovers of his life or the time he has to spare. He gives from the depths of his being, of his sweat, of his strength, and ultimately of his own body and blood.
So the scene drawn by Jesus that night in the upper room was one of a powerful servant motivated by an unrelenting love. In that moment the disciples were given an illustration of such impact that it would remain in memory as long as they had breath. His actions were those of an unabashed lover - giving a new dimension to the disciples’ understanding of his life, his ministry. He loved without embarrassment, without reservation. He loved without requiring love in return. In spite of the stubborn pride of the disciples, Jesus went to work. And he says to us, as he said long ago to the disciples, "Do you know what I have done? I have given you an example that you also should do as I have done to you, so that as I was sent to serve, so send I you." He couldn’t be clearer.
But we aren’t to go off on our own without being empowered. So we have come to be fed with food for our faith, potent food, servant food. It isn’t much, a little bit of bread and a swallow of wine, but when blessed by the Spirit it is enough, enough to nourish us for the life of powerful servanthood. Amen.
____________
1. Wangerin, Jr., Walter. "Reliving the Passion," Creative Communications for the Parish, St. Louis, MO. p. 11
