Reflections from Worship Today

 As I participated in corporate worship today, a question came to me: “does what we do in corporate worship keep us stuck in spiritual immaturity?” Let me share my thinking.

The question and the thinking behind it were triggered by the confession of sin that was built into the service. (I’ve participated in worship with this congregation enough to know that the confession of sin is a regular feature in their corporate worship services.) In the pastoral prayer, the pastor invited us to confess the sins we had committed this past week. The invitation to introspection and confession was coupled with a proclamation of God’s forgiveness of our sins.

On the surface, this practice appears to proclaim the gospel—i.e., God’s forgiveness of our sins. Something about the experience, however, seemed amiss. That’s when I started thinking about what we had just done. (Some would say I think too much!)

It seems to me the confession of sin(s) keeps the focus of worship on us, not God. In particular, it keeps the focus on our failures—how we fail to measure up, how we get it wrong. Implied in such confessions is the message that we are flawed, inadequate. It subtly defines us as “sinners.” In focusing on our failure to measure up, such confessions touch the guilt and shame with which so many of us live. Thankfully, the proclamation of God’s forgiveness is designed to cleanse our guilt and shame.

My question(s): does this practice help us experience God’s grace and forgiveness? Does it help us experience God’s cleansing power, moving us beyond our guilt and shame? Even more, does it help us see beyond our behavior to what it says about the condition of our hearts—i.e., sins as a visible symptom of the inner disease of Sin and Self-life? Does it help us process and learn from our failures so that we grow spiritually? Does it help us move beyond our sins? Does it help us claim and live out of our identity in Christ (as opposed to an identity as “a sinner”)?

Unless this practice of confession does these things—at least to some degree, it keeps us stuck spiritually, focused upon ourselves and our sins. It seems we never progress beyond our sins. We are simply practicing what Richard Rohr calls “sin management” instead of experiencing the transforming, life-giving power of Christ in our lives.

I can hear you arguing with me: “as long as we live, we will sin. We will always be sinners!”

Yes . . . and no.

As the apostle Paul argues in Romans 3, all of us sin. None of us are exempt. We all do it—repeatedly! Yet, in spite of our sins, God loves us and forgives our sins. God’s love was demonstrated “in that while we were yet sinners Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). In spite of our sins, we have been “justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus” (Romans 3:24). These great spiritual truths underlie the proclamation of forgiveness associated with the corporate confession of our sins in worship.

There is, however, more to the gospel than the forgiveness of our sins! (Read that again.)

In Romans 7, Paul asserts that we are slaves to Sin—Sin-with-a-capital-S (Romans 7:14-23). The wrongs we do—sins (plural, small “s”) —are the symptoms of this inner disease. As I understand Paul, Sin-with-a-capital-S is the power of self-life that infects each of us. Self-life is the self-centered, self-serving, what’s-in-it-for-me spirit that colors everything we do. On our own, we cannot escape its power. It is too deeply engrained in our hearts and minds. Hence, we are slaves to it, doing what it commands.

The good news—i.e., the gospel—is that, in his death and resurrection, Jesus broke the power of Sin-with-a-capital-S and the power of death such Sin produces. Jesus sets us free from the enslaving power of self-life. As Paul wrote in Romans 6, “We know that our old self was crucified with {Christ} so that . . . we might no longer be enslaved to sin” (Romans 6:6, emphasis added). Paul pointed out the implication of this great truth; “so you also must consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus. Therefore, do not let sin exercise dominion in your mortal bodies. For sin will have no dominion over you” (Romans 6:11-12, 14, emphasis added).

The good news is that God accepts us unconditionally, just as we are, freely forgiving our sins as a gift of grace. In addition, the good news is that, in his death and resurrection, Jesus broke the power of Sin-with-a-capital-S that enslaves us. We have been set free from its dominating, destructive power.

In addition to these two great spiritual realities, there is an additional dimension to the good news! We have been given the Spirit to live in us. The Spirit works in us, transforming us into the likeness of Christ, displacing our self-centered, self-serving, what’s-in-it-for-me spirit with a servant spirit, empowering us to live the ways of God Jesus taught. In particular, the Spirit—living and working in us—gives us the power to move beyond our sins. As Paul says, “by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body” (Romans 8:13, emphasis added). As I understand what Paul is saying, because Jesus has set us free from the power of Sin-with-a-capital-S, the Spirit empowers us to move beyond the specific, individual sins—the symptoms of the inner disease. We can move beyond the sins we confess in corporate worship! We don’t have to keep repeating them.

To summarize my thinking, the goods news we proclaim has at least three dimensions to it: (1) the forgiveness of our sins so that we may live in relationship with God as beloved children (justified by faith), (2) through his death and resurrection, Jesus has broken the power of Sin-with-a-capital-S in our lives, setting us free from its destructive power, (3) through the work of the Spirit in our lives, we can move beyond the specific, individuals sins that are symptoms of this inner disease. We can move beyond our sins!

As we live into and out of the good news of God’s grace, we live into a new identity. We no longer think of ourselves as “sinners saved by grace.” We see ourselves as beloved children of God (Romans 8:14-17), created in God’s likeness, claimed by God’s grace as beloved children (Ephesians 1:4-5), called to be the followers of Jesus—learning and living the ways of God (the ways of grace and forgiveness) he taught, indwelt and empowered and in process of being transformed by the Spirit of God who lives in us.

It seems to me, if our corporate worship is to be truly transforming and life-giving, it would help us remember and claim our identity in Christ by proclaiming the full range of the gospel—the forgiveness of our sins, our freedom in Christ from the power of Sin-with-a-capital-S, and the empowering work of the Spirit helping us move beyond the specific symptoms of this Sin-with-a-capital-S (sins) that keep popping up in our lives.

Of course, this musing is just my thinking that was triggered in worship today.

He Opened Their Minds to Understand - Easter Sunday, 2025

 Luke’s account of the resurrection records the disciples’ struggle to understand the reality of the resurrection. When the women reported what they had experienced at the empty tomb, “these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them” (Luke 24:11).

The gospel writer continued to describe that struggle in the story of the two disciples walking to the village of Emmaus—a story unique to Luke’s gospel (Luke 24:13-35). As the two journeyed from Jerusalem to Emmaus, Jesus joined them but they did not recognize him. When he inquired about their conversation, they reported everything that had happened during that Passover festival—their hopes that Jesus was the Messiah, his arrest by the religious leaders, his trial before Pilate, his crucifixion and death, even the women’s account of their experience at the empty tomb. Jesus responded by teaching them how their scriptures spoke of everything they described. “Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?” (Luke 24:26). Jesus’s words “how slow of heart to believe” (Luke 24:25) point to their struggle.

As they came to the village, they invited Jesus to join them in the evening meal. During the meal, Jesus became the host as he took the bread, broke it, and gave it to them—as he had done during the Passover meal. In the breaking of the bread, their eyes were opened and they recognized Jesus (Luke 24:31, 34). When they recognized him, Jesus disappeared from their sight. They reflected on the experience and how they recognized the truth of what he had taught them from their scriptures: “Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?” (Luke 24:32).

The two immediately returned to Jerusalem and reported their experience to the other disciples. Those disciples affirmed that Jesus was indeed risen from the dead. He had appeared to Peter. As the group talked among themselves, Jesus appeared in their midst. Still, they struggled to believe, doubting their own eyes. Jesus addressed their struggle by inviting them to touch the wounds in his hands and feet, by eating a piece of fish. He then again taught them what the scriptures said—the same things he had taught them before his death—the things they could not grasp. The gospel writer noted, “Then he opened their minds to understand the scriptures” (Luke 24:45).

This statement reflects a profound spiritual truth: we cannot understand the ways of God apart from the Spirit’s work in our lives (John 14:25-26; 16:12-15; 1 Corinthians 2:7-16).

Our thinking has been shaped by the world’s ways of thinking and by the world’s values. This way of thinking blocks our ability to understand the ways of God. Paul taught this truth in his letter to the Romans: “Stop letting the world squeeze you into its mold. Be transformed by the renewing of your mind” (Romans 12:2, personal translation). Note that the world has already shaped our thinking. We have to move beyond it in order to understand the ways of God Jesus taught. As Jesus proclaimed the good news of the kingdom, he called people to “repent and believe the good news” (Mark 1:14-15). The word he used—translated as “repent”—means “think with a different mind.”

Paul spoke of this different way of thinking as “the mind of Christ” (1 Corinthians 2:16). This way of thinking is shaped by the character of God and the ways of God, taught to us by the Spirit.

This spiritual truth—we cannot understand the ways of God apart from the Spirit’s work in our lives—includes a second truth: we cooperate with the Spirit and the Spirit’s work when we place ourselves in a position to receive what the Spirit would teach us.

The two disciples practiced hospitality by inviting Jesus to spend the evening and eat with them. In that meal, their eyes were open. Jesus appeared to the disciples in Jerusalem as they gathered together, discussing the news of Jesus’s resurrection. In that appearance, Jesus opened their minds to understand the scriptures.

So how do we place ourselves in a position for the Spirit to teach us? Luke’s account gives us hints. We live together in spiritual community, sharing and discussing our experiences of God in our lives. We study the scriptures together in spiritual community—as well as personally—seeking insight into the character of God and the ways of God. We support one another as we seek to put those teachings into practice in our lives (Acts 2:42, 44-47). We intentionally walk in relationship with God, opening ourselves to God and the Spirit in prayer—what Jesus called “abiding” (John 15:1-11).

As we engage in these spiritual practices—and others, we are intentional about giving the Spirit the opportunity to open our hearts and minds to understand the truths of God and the ways of God. In doing so, we experience the Risen Christ in our lives today.

May it be so for each of us!

Lenten Riff for Holy Week, 2025

 It was almost time for the Passover celebration—the Wednesday before the Passover meal at sundown on Thursday. Jesus was keenly aware of what this Passover meant for him. He would be arrested by the religious leaders, tried by the Sanhedrin, delivered to Pilate and the Roman court where he would be condemned and sentenced to die by crucifixion.

Jesus had spent the early part of the week focused on the Jewish nation and the Temple. On Sunday, he had entered Jerusalem in a parade that proclaimed him to be the long-awaited Messiah. On Monday (according to Mark’s gospel—Mark 11:12-19), he had taken charge of the Temple compound by driving out those who were buying and selling sacrificial animals. Jesus returned to the Temple on Tuesday (Mark 11:20, 27) where once again he took charge. In doing so, he defied the authority of the Sadducees—the priestly class—who were responsible for the Temple (Mark 11:27-12:12). His actions fueled their seething animosity. They joined ranks with their religious and political enemies—the Pharisees and Herodians—in seeking a way to get rid of him (Mark 12:12-13). Jesus spent Tuesday teaching in the courtyard and fielding off the attempts by his adversaries to trap him (Mark 12:13-44).

On Wednesday and Thursday, Jesus turned his attention to his disciples. He once again sought to prepare them for what he knew was coming. Throughout their six-week journey from Galilee to Jerusalem, Jesus had been telling them what would happen to him in Jerusalem. He would be betrayed, arrested, brought to trial, and condemned to death. As a result, he would be crucified (Mark 8:31; 9:30-32; 10:32-34). Frustratingly, the disciples could not hear—much less accept—what he was saying. So, on Wednesday and Thursday of that Passover week, he once again sought to help them hear what they did not want to hear. An unplanned event on Wednesday provided an opportunity for him to do so.

Jesus was at a dinner in the home of Simon the leper (Mark 14:3-9) when he was approached by an unnamed woman. As she stood over Jesus, the woman broke open an alabaster jar of expensive ointment and anointed Jesus’s head. Her actions stirred angry reactions from some of the dinner guests—was it some of the disciples? They scolded the woman—reprimanded her—declaring the ointment was wasted and could have been better used by selling it and giving the proceeds to the poor.

As he often did in such situations, Jesus came to the defense of the woman. He reframed what the woman had done from a waste of money to “a good service” (Mark 14:6). He saw in her actions the anointing of his body for burial (Mark 14:8). He went on to say the woman would always be remembered for what she had done.

We don’t know if the disciples understood Jesus’s reference to his death. After all, they did not want to hear that he would die. Death did not fit into their narrative of him as the Messiah. It seems, though, that Judas understood as he left the dinner and “went to the chief priests in order to betray him to them” (Mark 14:10).

It was Wednesday before the Passover—Wednesday of our Holy Week—when Judas made his pact with the religious leaders to betray Jesus into their hands. “So he began to look for an opportunity to betray him” (Mark 14:11). That opportunity would come after the Passover meal when Jesus and the disciples went to their familiar retreat in Gethsemane in order to pray.

Once again, the disciples become an opportunity to see ourselves during this Lenten journey. Their resistance to what Jesus sought to teach them raises questions for us to consider as we come to the end our Lenten journey: what of Jesus’s teachings do we not want to hear? What “narrative” do we cling to that blocks our willingness and ability to hear what he teaches? What will it take for us to hear what we don’t want to hear?

Lenten Prayer: Lord, give us ears to hear.

Lenten Riff for Week 5, 2025

 It’s an unusual story—one found only in the gospel of Mark (Mark 8:22-26). It is a healing story that required a second touch. Of all the healing stories found in the gospels, this is the only one in which a second touch was required for the healing to be complete.

At Bethsaida, people brought a blind man to Jesus so Jesus could heal him. When Jesus anointed the man’s eyes and touched them, he asked the man: “Can you see anything?” (Mark 8:23). The man replied, “I can see people, but they look like trees, walking” (Mark 8:24). Jesus then touched the man’s eyes again. After this second touch, the man “saw everything clearly” (Mark 8:26).

The fact that Mark’s gospel alone relates the story indicates the story had significance for the gospel writer. The author placed the story in the middle of his gospel—halfway through it—so that it divided the gospel into two sections. Those two sections correspond to the two-staged healing of the blind man. Before Jesus’s touch, he was blind. After the first touch, he could see, but not clearly. After the second touch, the man could then see clearly.

In my mind, the blind man is a metaphor for the disciples. In the first half of the gospel, they were blind. They did not recognize who Jesus was (Mark 4:41) nor could they understand what he taught them (Mark 8:17-21). Immediately after the miracle, they recognized Jesus was the Messiah (Mark 8:27-30). They were now able to see, but they did not yet see clearly. They could not accept what Jesus taught them about the suffering the Messiah was to experience (Mark 8:31-33). A second touch would be required for them to see clearly. That second touch would come in the resurrection.

This metaphor-story points to a central truth about discipleship—a truth reflected in our Lenten journey. Discipleship is about learning to see clearly. It is about learning the ways of God Jesus taught. A key part of that learning process is letting go of and moving beyond the way the world trained us to think. This “letting go” dimension of learning is reflected in Mark’s healing story.

In the story, Jesus led the blind man out of the village in order to heal him (Mark 8:23). Taking the story as a metaphor (rather than literally), the village represents the culture in which the man lived—what we call “the world.” In order to learn what Jesus would teach him—that is, for him to “see”—the man had to get outside of how his culture had trained him to think. He had to move beyond the world’s way of thinking and living. Learning the ways of God Jesus taught leads us beyond how the world trained us to think and beyond the thinking that governs how the world operates. Note that once the man could see clearly—that is, once he understood the ways of God Jesus taught—Jesus commanded him to not go back to the world’s way of thinking: “Do not even go into the village” (Mark 8:26).

The gospel of Mark portrays discipleship was a journey in which we move from how the world trained us to think and live into thinking that is shaped by the teachings of Jesus. The Lenten journey reminds us of this ever-recurring learning process in which we move from being blind to seeing, but not clearly, to seeing clearly.

Prayer for the Lenten journey: Open our eyes, Lord Jesus, that we may see. Touch our eyes again and again until we see clearly.

Week 4 of the Lenten Journey, 2025

 One of the most difficult aspects of learning is the challenge of unlearning—moving beyond how we have been trained to think, letting go of what we already believe. We cannot embrace a new, different way of thinking as long as we cling to an old way of thinking.

We see this reality in the twelve as they journeyed with Jesus toward Jerusalem for the Passover celebration. Along the way, Jesus repeatedly told them what he would experience in Jerusalem—betrayal, arrest, trial, mockery, flogging, crucifixion, and death … but on the third day he would be raised from the dead (Mark 8:31; 9:30-32; 10:32-34). The twelve could not hear, much less accept, what he was saying. Instead of questioning and exploring what he was saying, they argued among themselves as to which of them was the greatest (Mark 9:33-34). Viewing one another as competitors, they jockeyed for hoped-for positions of status and power (Mark 10:35-41). Their old way of thinking blocked their ability to learn the new way of thinking—the ways of the kingdom—that Jesus was attempting to teach them.

In order to teach them a different way of thinking, Jesus had to confront the way the world had trained them to think—the thinking that fueled their arguing and jockeying for position.

“You know that among the Gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. but it is not so among you, but whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many” (Mark 10:42-25).

Jesus’s teaching draws a clear contrast between the ways of the kingdom and the ways of the world—specifically, between how power is used in the kingdom and how power is used in the world.

In the world—among the Gentiles—power is used over, down against others, for personal benefit at the other’s expense. It is used in self-serving ways with no regard for others. Jesus adamantly said this way of using power is not the way of the kingdom—“it is not so among you!” In the kingdom, power is used to serve. It is used alongside another, on their behalf, seeking their wholeness and wellbeing, even when it comes at cost to oneself. In the kingdom, power is used the way a servant uses power. This servant use of power is not only what Jesus taught; it is how he lived—“the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.”

The disciples could not grasp this different way of thinking. Their old way of thinking blocked their ability to learn what Jesus was teaching them.

Ironically, how we think generally lies outside of our awareness. It functions as our automatic pilot, unconsciously governing what we do. We generally cannot recognize how we have been trained to think until we are confronted with thinking that challenges it—as in the teachings of Jesus.

Learning—understanding, accepting, and embracing a new way of thinking—requires us to recognize and consciously choose to move beyond our old way of thinking. To get there, we have to move beyond our defensive reactions to and knee-jerk rejection of that which is different from how we think. We have to be willing to reflect, to examine, to explore that which challenges our thinking. Learning requires a teachable spirit that trusts the Spirit to guide and teach.

As we continue to walk this Lenten journey, may the Spirit cultivate in us a teachable spirit—one that is willing to learn the ways of the kingdom even though those ways challenge how the world trained us to think.

Prayer for the Lenten journey: “Teach me your way, O LORD, that I may walk in your truth” (Psalm 86:11).

Week 3 of the 2025 Lenten Journey

 As they made their way toward Jerusalem for the Passover celebration, the tension among the Twelve grew steadily. They had already argued as to which of them was the greatest (Mark 9:33-34). Jesus addressed their argument by teaching them a servant spirit was how greatness was measured in the kingdom (Mark 9:35-37). His teaching, however, did not end their argument. It just pushed it underground. It is not surprising, then, that the tension erupted again. This time, it surfaced in anger, creating division among them as the ten turned on James and John (Mark 10:41).

The anger and division were triggered by what James and John did. Note: what they did triggered the division; it did not cause it. The cause of the division was the competition among them over who was the greatest.

James and John had approached Jesus in private to ask for a special privilege. Anticipating that Jesus would declare himself to be the Messiah when they arrived in Jerusalem (which reflected how little they knew him or understood his teachings), James and John had asked to be given the two key positions in the kingdom he would set up—“Grant us to sit, one on your right hand and one at your left, in your glory” (Mark 10:37). Their request was a continuation of the earlier argument about who was the greatest. It was an attempt to cut Peter out of consideration as he seemingly took on a leadership posture among the twelve. They argued that they, as Jesus’s cousins, would be better suited than Peter to serve alongside Jesus as his most trusted aides. (Their mother was a sister to the mother of Jesus.)

When the other disciples learned what James and John had done, they predictably reacted with anger. They were not just mad; they were furious.

Once again, the disciples are a mirror that helps us see ourselves. We see in them the conflict and division we experience politically in our nation as well as in our personal relationships. More importantly, we see the thinking that gives birth to such conflict and division.

On the surface, conflict and division appear to be about our differences. In reality, they are about how we think about our differences. Conflict and division are the natural expressions of the way the world has trained us to think.

The thinking that unconsciously shapes our lives and our society divides the world into us-them categories. It uses differences to separate us, ignoring how we are alike. In the division that developed between James and John and the other ten disciples, the difference had to do with family ties. James and John had them with Jesus; Peter—and none of the other nine, for that matter—did not. The diversity God designed into the world offers us an unlimited source of differences we can use to divide ourselves into us-them categories—and, it seems, we take advantage of many (most) of them: ethnicity/race (white supremacy), gender (patriarchy), sexuality (anti-LGBTQ), religion (Christian nationalism), political positions (MAGA/Libs), positions on moral issues, education, socioeconomic status, societal background (urban/rural).

Us-them thinking and relating naturally leads to comparing-and-competing along with the better than, less than thinking that fuels it. As we focus on how we are different, we inevitably ask, “Who is right? Whose way is best?” It is a variation of the disciples’ argument of “who is the greatest?” To be “right” is to be the greatest. Of course, our answer to the question is always “my way is right.” To reinforce our sense of being “right”—i.e., the greatest—we build connections with others who think like we do. We create tribes and echo chambers that validate our thinking as being the only “right” way to think. These allies reinforce our sense that we—and those who think like us—are not only “right.” We are “the greatest.”

Us-them thinking produces the conflict and division that—apparently—are a normal, unavoidable part of human relationships. Our comparing and competing creates a win/lose mentality as well as a culture and society structured around winners and losers. The winners enjoy power and position—what James and John were seeking. The winners use their power and position for their own personal advantage, always at the expense of the losers. Protecting their power and position is a priority. The losers are stuck in a one-down, powerless position, seeking ways to reverse the situation—such as James and John’s end run on Peter. In this us-them, comparing and competing world, the underlying questions are “who’s on top”—i.e., who is the greatest—and “what does it take to get to the top?”—i.e., to be the greatest.

While Jesus recognized these kinds of relational dynamics were at play in both his disciples and in the world, he chose not to engage in them. A different way of thinking shaped how he lived—thinking shaped by the character of God and the ways of God. Jesus understood that greatness was not about power and position. Rather, true greatness was about how one uses power—i.e., the servant spirit. The apostle Paul called Jesus’s way of thinking “the mind of Christ” (1 Corinthians 2:16). He called us, as the followers of Jesus, to embrace the mind of Christ (Philippians 2:5-11).

As we walk this Lenten journey, we see in the experience of the disciples the stark difference between the way the world trained us to think and the thinking that underlies the kingdom of God. The journey calls us again to embrace the mind of Christ. It calls us to set aside how the world trained us to think and live—the us-them, comparing-and-competing, better than-less than, winners and losers thinking that produces conflict and division. It invites us to walk with Jesus in the way of the servant.

Prayer for the Lenten journey: We see ourselves in the disciples, merciful God—and what we see is not pretty! Help us to see in Jesus the beauty of your servant nature and your ways of grace. Create within us a deep love for you and your ways—a love that captivates our hearts, minds, and souls—a love that moves us beyond how the world has trained us to think—a love that breaks the power of the self-serving, what’s-in-it-for-me spirit that enslaves us. Teach us how to win by losing.

Week 2 of the Lenten Journey, 2025

What was happening among the twelve was not that surprising, actually. It is something that happens in every group—including those of which we are a member. In fact, what was happening among the twelve was predictable.

As Jesus and the twelve made their way from Galilee toward Jerusalem, the twelve became embroiled in an argument over which one of them was the greatest (Mark 9:33-34). The argument was probably triggered by the transfiguration experience in which Jesus took Peter, James, and John with him on the mountain retreat (Mark 9:2-8). The selection of these three—excluding the other nine—indicated these three held some kind of significance and importance in the mind of Jesus. The ensuring argument was about which of the three was the greatest—with perhaps some of the others arguing that they were just as important as any one of those three. The argument was fueled by the expectation that, when they reached Jerusalem, Jesus would be revealed as the messianic king and would establish the long-awaited messianic kingdom. As those Jesus had hand selected (Mark 3:13-19), they expected to play a significant role in the new kingdom. They anticipated being someone important—someone others would call “great.” The unanswered question was “what would be the pecking order?” Who would have the most important position? Who would be the greatest?

The argument among the disciples is a window through which we can see ourselves. Like them, we want to know where we stand in the groups to which we belong. We want to know (1) our place in the group which reflects (2) our value to the group. Unlike the twelve, most us of do not openly argue about our place or our value, but we are acutely aware of both—especially when our place and value are not as great as others in the group. How we function in the group reflects our sense of our place and our value to the group OR the place and value we desire in the group.

The twelve argued over who was the greatest. For them, greatness was linked to a position in the group. It reflected one’s standing in the group. It defined one’s value to the group.

Their argument provided Jesus another opportunity to teach them about discipleship. The disciples’ argument reflected how the world had taught them to think about greatness. Jesus taught them how greatness was defined in the kingdom.

“Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all” (Mark 9:35).

Jesus did not reprimand the twelve for their argument or for the desire which fueled it. Rather, he undermined their argument by changing the standard by which greatness is defined. In the kingdom, greatness is defined by a servant spirit—the willingness to use one’s power and position to address the needs of another. A servant spirit frees us from concern about our standing in a group. It frees us to be “last of all and servant of all.”

A servant spirit is reflected in how we view and relate to the least “significant” people in our culture—those who have little or no status or standing, those who are powerless and vulnerable. “Then he 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’” (Mark 9:36-37). To welcome another is to treat the other with dignity and respect—as a person of worth and value—as a beloved child of God.

Claiming our own identity as beloved child of God frees us from the comparing-and-competing game in which we are constantly jockeying for position in relationships—the way the world defines greatness. It frees us to embrace the servant spirit Jesus taught and lived. It frees us to live as a servant who joyfully uses our power and position to address the need of another.

Prayer for the Lenten journey: As we walk this Lenten journey, Lord Jesus, teach us again the ways of the kingdom. Move us beyond the way the world trained us to think. Help us embrace the servant spirit by which greatness is defined in the kingdom. Fashion within us, Spirit of God, the likeness of Christ that we may live out of his servant spirit.