Sermon: Wittenberg Academy – Tuesday of Lent 3

14 Mar 2023

Text: Mark 9:33-50

 In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

 Some of the disciples are embarrassed in front of Jesus.  He asks them what they were just talking about.  “But they kept silent, for on the way they had argued with one another about who was the greatest.  And He sat down and called the twelve.”

 The Christian life is not a competition against other Christians.  St. Paul compares it to athletics: “Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it. Every athlete exercises self-control in all things. They do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable” (1 Cor 9:24-25).  But his comparison is for the sake of “self-control” and not being “disqualified (v 27) – not to win by pushing others out of the kingdom.  If that were the case, Jesus would be the winner, and none of us would receive a crown.

 Indeed, Jesus is the greatest, and He wears a crown of thorns for our sakes, so that we, who are the least, might be the greatest.  Our athlete-like discipline represents a competition within ourselves rather than exalting ourselves in order to defeat others.  Therefore, we should live in the discipline of a runner who seeks to improve his performance through training.  The Christian life is not a spectator sport.

 Notice that Jesus hears of this dispute, and He “sat down.”  This is Jesus asserting His authority over His students.  In that culture, the teacher sat to instruct.  How embarrassing this must have been for those disciples engaged in such a petty dispute – knowing that the one who is teaching them is the Greatest, who is rescuing them from sin, death, and hell.

 In teaching them what constitutes greatness in the kingdom, Jesus takes a child and explains, “Whoever receives one such child in My name receives Me, and whoever receives Me, receives not Me but Him who sent Me.”  Our Lord elaborates: “Whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in Me to sin, it would be better for him if a great millstone were hung around his neck and he were thrown into the sea.”  The word “great” is not explicitly stated in the Greek, but it is implied by the fact that it is a “donkey” millstone, one that is so large that it must be powered by a beast of burden. 

 In worldly greatness, one seeks to aggrandize oneself by grinding others down, even lording over little children by leading them into sin.  This kind of pursuit of “greatness” leads to sociopathy, and ultimately to hell.  And Jesus prescribes harsh medicine for those whose desire for greatness has brought them to this point: the sin must be “cut off” – amputated.  It cannot coexist with the greatness of Jesus – which He gives as a free gift.  For there is a point of no return when it comes to sin, especially driven by pride, like “salt [that] has lost its saltiness.”  Indeed, the church confesses a greatness that comes only from Jesus, a greatness that is imposed upon us from the outside.  The greatest in the kingdom of God are the least in the eyes of the world: little baptized children who believe in Him.  For even we Christians need to be reminded that these who are the least are the greatest, because they bear the name and the cleansing of Christ, all by grace.

 Let us not be distracted by the greatness of our sins, or the greatness of the millstone.  Let us repent and train as athletes, competing only against ourselves.  Let us bring the greatness of Jesus to all, that none of us – and especially the little ones who believe in Him – should be disqualified, but may wear the imperishable crown of Christ’s greatness.

 Amen.

 In the name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.