Arguing Together

Arguing Together

 

Mark 9:30-37

Prediction of the passion 

9:30 They went on from there and passed through Galilee. He did not want anyone to know it,

9:31 for he was teaching his disciples, saying to them, "The Son of Man is to be betrayed into human hands, and they will kill him, and three days after being killed, he will rise again."

9:32 But they did not understand what he was saying and were afraid to ask him.

9:33 Then they came to Capernaum, and when he was in the house he asked them, "What were you arguing about on the way?"

9:34 But they were silent, for on the way they had argued with one another who was the greatest.

9:35 He sat down, called the twelve, and said to them, "Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all."

9:36 Then he took a little child and put it among them, and taking it in his arms he said to them,

9:37 "Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me."

I am an arguer. (Is there such a word?) I like to DEBATE, which is actually a better word. “Argue” sounds negative, like a process wherein facts and persuasion are not important. “Debate” rings more serious sounding, like there will be a winner and a loser, but based on following some set of agreed-upon rules. No rules are needed for being an arguer. Shouting may be involved, as may be name-calling. I WISH I was only a debater, but honestly, I often backslide into arguing. Thankfully, I’m not a shouter or a name-caller, but I may fall prey to “arguing from authority.” Being both a well-educated person and an avid reader of books, periodicals, and “breaking news” regarding current events, I am capable of appealing to startling facts. This often provokes shouting and name-calling by my opponent. Thanks to a a certain orange-skinned individual on the national scene, a new factor has been added to any form of debate—even argument: Calling out “fake news.” Even the actual, provable facts may be called into question, in this vein of “argument.” It is a stopper, and the ultimate in name-calling, but one not named at the debating opponent, but at her or his FACTS. But it is not QUESTIONING the facts, just judging them as false or irrelevant. It would like be a police detective being told he had to make his case using NONE of the facts in evidence. Sound ludicrous. It is. But you want to know what is even more ludicrous? Arguing over “who is the greatest.” This is what Jesus is flagging in this text from Mark.

 

Arguing is not necessarily a BAD thing. As I mentioned earlier, I prefer the term, “debate,” as it signifies a more cultured conversation fed by factual assertions, or at least theoretical ones backed by already accepted information and constructs. “Debate” is affirmed by the university; arguing is more at home in a bar over a beer. As a “university guy,” you see where I’m coming from. Interestingly, Jesus was neither bar or bar mitzvah guy, and his response to his disciples over their “beer fight” pulled from a much higher source. Talk about an “argument from authority!” A good debate—or even a sober argument—has the possibility of making each party weigh their assertions carefully and even be persuaded that some part of their case is unsupportable. We had many such debates in seminary classes, which hopefully taught us that the “teaching” we would eventually feed our congregations may NOT be universally accepted by the masses. Especially when it comes to deeply-held beliefs, surrendering to the “superior” authorities of the lecture hall might be far from automatic, and much less than encouraging to one’s faith. Pastors who don’t learn to listen carefully to the emotional statements and “investments” of their congregants are doomed to “lose the argument” to something much deeper rooted than seminary “book learning.” 

 

People CAN disagree, not just over ideas, but even over the facts and their significance. What may be important information for YOU may be conversely be insignificant to me and my views. Arguments have ensued over less. That Jesus moved on to welcome a child just after hearing about what his disciples were arguing about along the road is a less than subtle allusion to his judgment of their debate as being childish. He’s planning on giving these guys the “keys to the kingdom,” and they are fighting over who is the “greatest.” Even Muhammad Ali had to fight for the right to call himself “The Greatest.” What did the twelve have to go on? Were they basing their argument on what their prior careers had offered up as collateral? Fishermen, tax collectors, a carpenter or two—not much here to present as evidence, except maybe an inflated “fish story.” As I suggested earlier, possibly they were arguing the post position as to whom would be their leader if Jesus’ prediction that he would lose his life in Jerusalem came true. I guess they missed the part about “rising again.” Peter must have won the debate, though, as he does seem to end up the head of what became known as the “Jerusalem Council.” When the Apostle Paul went up against them, it was Peter who was the point person. 

 

The church today argues a lot, too. Mostly over the Bible, or more correctly, what we interpret it to be “saying” to us. We rarely argue over what “servanthood” looks like, but like the first disciples, we fight over pecking order: who’s in charge; who is “included” in the promise of salvation; which church has the corner on the truth, etc. It’s the same fight as “who is the greatest,” but cleaned up to resemble a theological debate. It isn’t. The fact is, God sent Jesus to proclaim “release to the captives,” regardless of what has imprisoned a person. All are included in the “release,” and in this matter, ALL means ALL. What we fight about is power, not purity. Truth be told, we probably all know what “servant leadership” looks like, but there is not much power to be had in it, and “humility” is not a value of any magnitude in Western society. Should the church be different? Unique in this regard? Yes. Are we? Nope, at least not yet. 

 

I am old enough to remember the promise the Internet and search engines like Google offered to people. One could learn much by “Googling” something and reading the mass of articles that popped up. Unfortunately, with really no one “policing” the veracity of the resulting core dump of information, what has happened is it has created a universe of pseudo-intellectuals who can spout (or in the syntax of social media, “post”) fountains of “stuff” on any topic, much of which may be contrived or even bogus. Even as this has become a millstone weighing down informed dialogue today, I’m guessing Jesus was as discouraged by the bizarre assertions the twelve were making in support of their believe as to who should be “large and in charge.” He answered by throwing them the “servant of all” knuckleball.

 

The knuckleball was my favorite pitch in all of baseball. It is thrown by gripping the ball in one’s fingernails in such a way that, upon releasing it, all of the spin on the ball is abated by the last “grip” of the nails. The ball is thrown with a great degree of arm-strength and force, but with no spin. This causes the laces of the ball to be “caught” by the air turbulence and any cross-currents present as the ball travels toward the plate. These “ill winds” cause it to “dance” around, and no one—even the pitcher—knows exactly where it will end up. The lack of spin makes it hard to catch, too, as a baseball’s typical rigorous spin will cause it to “wedge” itself into the catcher’s mitt. Without the spin, it’s like a book hitting a pillow. Most catchers use an oversized mitt to catch a knuckleball pitch, guarding against it just dropping to the ground or winding up at the backstop as a “wild pitch.” For the batter, swinging at it is most often like trying to bring down a flitting bee with a stick. Even the pitcher turns it loose with little assurance that it will fly straight. What makes the knuckleball so hard to throw? If one does not hone the skill of turning it loose with NO spin, the ball is delivered with only moderate speed and just enough spin as to turn it into a batting practice pitch. Failed knuckleballs get hit very, very far, very, very fast. Hence, baseball has seen very few successful knuckleball pitchers over its long history.

 

In answering an argument over “who is the greatest” with the assertion that “the one who wants to be the greatest must become the servant of all,” Jesus threw the biggest knuckleball, ever. Even HE didn’t know how the pitch would be received by the church, down through the centuries; many would take a swing at it by feigning servanthood, but with the secret desire for power; and preachers (the catcher?) trying to corral it to properly expound from the pulpit on what Jesus meant by it have pretty much dropped the ball. I do believe Jesus was seeking to provoke conversation with this statement, conversation that could potentially lead to more people SERVING others than too many sergeants and not enough soldiers. Like the knuckleball, it’s a hard pitch to master. We tend to venerate those who have pulled it off—Ghandi, Mother Teresa, Albert Schweitzer. And while the Major Leagues have seen few good knuckleballers, countless sandlots have seen hitters stymied by those amateurs trying to get outs with the pitch. In the same way, the church most likely could count a large field of “sandlot” players who have put themselves to servant ministry in such a genuine, humbling way that their peers recognize them. I can name a lot of names of folk who “mastered the pitch,” but YOU have never heard of them—Jim Shifter, Julie Krantz, Dave Elkins, Sara Cassidy, Peggy Hines…I could go on and on, thinking of parishioners who took servant ministry seriously! Oh, and I’m married to one good knuckleball hitter! In each church, she found her niche were she could lovingly serve, and yet “stay out of the way” of the resident lay leaders. 

 

I called this message “Arguing Together,” as I do believe our debates over how the church should be led and do its work to be helpful, edifying, and even teasing forth wisdom from its members. Jesus didn’t “condemn” the twelve for their verbal machinations, but he DID throw them a knuckleball that cast a unique vision of what the church’s “pitch” to the world should look like! TOGETHER is the key word, even if we are arguing over our differences. If we successfully stay TOGETHER, our differences will get worked out. Sadly, what just happened in the United Methodist Church was truly a failed argument and a spinning knuckleball that got creamed. Oh well, forward we must now go. And let us accept Jesus’ invitation to “welcome the children” and thereby welcome HIM! Amen!