September 23, Ordinary 25B (Mark 9:30-37)
Perhaps the disciples have been captivated by the kind of power embodied by Augustus and Herod.
Writers often get lost in their work. Typically, I go into my own world for a few hours each morning to focus on writing projects and sermon preparation. I work best in solitude, so I begin my writer’s day around 4:30 a.m.
The other morning my five-year-old grandson, who was spending the night with us, decided to get up early, too. When he came down the stairs, I was initially a bit annoyed, though I hid my feelings. He knew I was working, but after playing for a few minutes with his action figures, he asked, “Grandpa, can you play with me?” For a moment, I felt conflicted. I was on a writer’s roll, and the words were flowing. But then I looked into his eyes, and I knew that my brilliant insights could wait. So I entered the world of superheroes and sea creatures, reminded that the best theology is embodied in our everyday relationships. Greatness is measured by a child’s smile, not a felicitous phrase.
In today’s reading, Jesus is once again giving a lesson in relational theology to his disciples. For Jesus, theology is contextual, embodied, and conversational. It emerges out of concrete life situations—including his observations of his own disciples, who have been arguing about which one is the greatest and most important among them. Once again, the disciples don’t get it. Jesus has just proclaimed that suffering and death lie ahead for him and are essential to his vocation as God’s savior. Seemingly oblivious to their teacher’s lesson, the disciples appear to believe that greatness involves being set apart from their peers in power and adulation.
