One of the more entertaining parts about working maintenance for Concordia-New York during the summers was that you never knew what you might come across on any given day. Given that the campus was quite old, with a myriad of old buildings as well as properties off the main campus, you could find yourself on a roof, in a tunnel, or rummaging through old Concordia Camp t-shirts. One of the main jobs we had as student workers was to clean out the dorms right after the semester ended. This usually involved lugging old couches, furniture, and whatever items that were left behind. An extension of this work was that sometimes we would also have to clear out the various apartments and homes of those employees or professors that had also moved on from Concordia.
On one such occasion, we had to clean out the remnants left behind by one long-time professor. While most of the apartment was left empty, the basement proved to be another story. It was filled with boxes of books. In particular, books of theology. This professor was an ordained LCMS clergyperson with an interesting educational background that spanned a few decades, mostly in the New York Metro area. He was quite an eccentric person, and these boxes of books reflected that eccentricity. Still, though, most of what was in those boxes was of a theological variety. Thus, my interest was piqued. You see, by that summer, I had decided I would go to seminary and, hopefully, become a pastor, and so my inclination toward learning theology was growing. So, I looked through the books. I eventually came across a book that caught my attention, it was on pastoral ministry. I still recall that the book was black with yellow letters for the title. Unfortunately, and frustratingly, I don’t remember the title or the author of the book. However, I do remember taking it with me and reading it throughout that summer.
I don’t remember much of the contents except for one section in which the author explained that the core motivating factor for any pastor should be, first and foremost, servanthood. Anyone who desires to be a pastor, he argued, should understand that it requires being a servant and that such is to be expected. Nonetheless, the author contrasted this with motivations for greatness, prestige, and status. He argued persuasively that such had no place among pastors. In many ways, I still remember that section because it struck a chord within me and served as a helpful and articulate reminder about what being a pastor was all about. There are many reasons to be attracted to the ministry, some good, some bad, and some in between. And I think many of us in the clergy class are an amalgamation of such attractions and motivations whether we admit it or not. Yet servanthood should remain at the center, as indicated by the fact that we clergy wear stoles every Sunday.
In contrast to this writing, I once had a conversation with a pastor concerning another clergyperson’s struggles with certain functions in ministry. The person being discussed was a bit of an anomaly in that he certainly had a servant’s heart, but he was very poor at preaching and teaching. Unfortunately, he did little to improve upon them, which struck me as strange considering that they are a big part of the job, if not the main thing. Because of these things, I queried, “I wonder what made him want to be a pastor. What was the motivating force?” The response I got to that query was, in some ways, an unexpected one, probably due in part to my own naivete. The fellow pastor said, “I think for the prestige, the authority.” That response caught me off guard because the person under discussion did not have such an air about him, nor was he someone who indicated as much in his words and actions. To me, at least, it was a misread. However, I also think there was some projection going on as well. Knowing this person fairly well, his comment enabled me to make sense of some of his behaviors and also why certain events and people bothered him or excited him the way that they did. He was someone very much into titles, awards, and, if you will, being “in the room where it happens.” It was also a moment in which his comment enabled me to understand better why we differed in the ways that we did in our approach to ministry, right, wrong, or otherwise.
And this brings me back to the theme of servanthood not just in pastoral ministry but in the very Gospels themselves. In the second half of Mark, this is a continual theme that Jesus impresses upon his disciples but to no avail. On his way to Jerusalem to die, Jesus foretells this three times (Mark 8:31-34, Mark 9:30-32, and Mark 10:32-34). In all such instances, the disciples fail to understand what Jesus is telling them. The first scene ends with Jesus calling Peter Satan, but the second and third scenes are followed by teachings on servanthood and greatness in the kingdom of God. It is not accidental that we go from a conversation about rejection and torture to a conversation about servanthood and greatness. But what has always fascinated me about the third scene on servanthood in Mark 10:35-45 is the teaching contrast that Jesus provides to the disciples’ indignation at James and John’s request to be at Jesus’ left and right when he comes into his glory. He says to the disciples,
“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. 43 But it is not so among you; instead, whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, 44 and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. 45 For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve and to give his life a ransom for many.”
As seen above the contrast that Jesus uses as an entry point for his teaching on servanthood and greatness in the kingdom has to do with the way in which the Gentiles rule. That is, the Romans. Here Markan scholar Stephen Kimondo provides helpful clarification concerning what Jesus is getting at, he writes,
‘The Gentile rulers referred to in this passage are the Roman authorities. The Roman imperial power was set to aggrandize those in positions of power and authority to maintain power, to secure wealth, and to advance their social standing and status. As Donahue and Harrington have noted, the Roman imperial power “exercised primarily through force, intimidation, and a network of patronage that tried to insure absolute loyalty to the emperor (200).”’
The disciples’ failure to understand Jesus is inextricably linked to dynamics such as these. While they despised the Romans, they were unable to identify that it was their approach to power that was the problem. Such was why Peter rebuked Jesus for speaking about his coming, rejection, death, and resurrection. Such was why the disciples rebuked people for bringing children to Jesus and why they were left astounded at Jesus’ rejection of the rich man and his teaching thereafter. Such was also why James and John did not know what they were asking when they requested to be at Jesus’ left and right in his glory, but also why the other disciples became angry with them for such a request. All of them were vying for the best seats and to be number two in Jesus’ coming reign. For them, it wasn’t so much that the world would change due to the messianic movement led by Jesus but that those in power would be changed and replaced by them. The only difference is that they would now be in charge and not the unclean Romans. The Roman Empire was to be swapped for the Empire of God with Jesus at the helm.
Strikingly, Jesus follows this with, “But not in this way among you…” (Or more traditionally “Not so among you.”). In other words, you are not to be like the Romans who terrorize, who bully, who oppress all for the sake of their own benefit and status. Jesus follows these words teaching that greatness comes through servanthood (διάκονος) and “firstness” with becoming a slave (δοῦλος). The suggestion of both would have scandalized any such Roman ruler and by extension the disciples. Remember, Peter rebukes Jesus for speaking of his coming rejection and death for good reason! What is more, in Mark’s Gospel the one person who actually “serves” apart from Jesus is Peter’s mother-in-law. What is more, Jesus will end up on the cross, a place reserved primarily for criminals and slaves. Thus, it is no accident that Jesus ends this section by saying, “For the Human Being came not to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many.” Ched Myers helpfully notes,
“He has come to serve and also give his life, refusing to “save” it (see 8:35). The phrase “as a ransom (lutron) appears to be an allusion back to “slave.” The term referred to the price required to redeem captives or purchase freedom for indentured servants (279).”
If I may go back to that conversation I wrote about earlier about being attracted to the ministry for reasons of prestige and authority, I can eerily hear the words of Jesus, “but not in this way among you all.” While the thrust of this writing centers around pastoral life, I think it’s also important to keep in mind that these words are applicable to all disciples and human beings. I firmly believe that our relationship to and understanding of power is sorely lacking and that so much of what is wrong with the world goes back to this very theme. We all have power, whether realized or not, and we all have a decision to make about how we use that power on a daily basis. Will we use it to prop up ourselves at the expense of others, to gain while others lose? Or will we use our power to serve, to lift others up, to bring life where there is death?
Sources:
Stephen Simon Kimondo, The Gospel of Mark and the Roman Jewish War of 66-70 CE (Eugene: Pickwick, 2018), 200.
Ched Myers, Binding The Strong Man: A Political Reading of Mark’s Story (Maryknoll: Orbis, 2008), 279.
A Foolish Way 