[Sermon preached on 14 October 2018, Apostles' Sunday / 3rd year, ELCF Lectionary]
Last Tuesday, our Bible study group went through the three readings for today. We soon found that they have at least two things in common.
For one thing, they have all been taken out of context. As you may have found out by now, I usually give a lot of space to spelling out the context and interpreting the message contextually. It is important to know who, what, when and where, before we try to explain the text and think about applying it to our own lives.
From the Old Testament reading from Amos, you can get some clues concerning the context from inside the text. It does require a fairly good knowledge of Old Testament history and geography, though.
In order to understand the New Testament reading from Galatians, you need to read the whole letter in one go and look up some parts of the book of Acts for background.
Also a proper understanding of the Gospel text requires that you read at least from the beginning of the chapter.
But there is something else that these three texts have in common. They all speak about people whom God sent on a special mission. God takes these people out of their own surroundings, out of their own social and professional context, out of their comfort zone, and places them in an environment and on a mission that is painful, humiliating, and potentially life-threatening.
Amos was a shepherd and a gardener in the southern kingdom of Judah. He had a pretty predictable life. But God told him to leave his flocks and his sycamore-fig trees and go to the northern kingdom of Israel. His task was to prophesy against the king and the people because of their disobedience to God. He was to warn them that the army of the Assyrians was soon going to defeat the Israel army. The people were going to be driven out of their home country into exile.
It is obvious that he was not a welcome visitor. In facts, plots were made to kill him. And we have every reason to believe that, in the end, he was indeed killed for his message.
Amos was swift to remind the people of Israel that he was not a prophet by profession. He did not come out of a family of prophets. He did not want to prophesy. But God made him do it. — He had no choice.
The apostle Paul was a well-educated and very intellectual Jew. He belonged to the party of the Pharisees, whose greatest goal was to live in perfect obedience to the Law of God and to stay undefiled by foreigners. In modern terms, we would call him an ultra-right-wing nationalist and religious fundamentalist.
He had the potential of becoming an influential political and religious leader of the Jewish nation. But God singled him out and called him through a vision of the risen Lord Jesus for an incredible mission. Paul was called to go out of his safe Jewish comfort zone to preach the Gospel to the foreign people he loathed so much.
During one of his mission trips, he ended up in the region of Galatia, in Turkey. There, he was welcomed with enthusiasm and warmth by the non-Jewish population. The Galatians readily received and believed his message. Paul had some serious health problems when he arrived, but they took excellent care of him. By the time he left the city, there was a special bond between them.
But soon after that, a group of teachers arrived from the church in Jerusalem. They were Pharisees, just like Paul. They preached that non-Jews could not be saved unless they converted to Judaism, be circumcised, and follow all the moral and ritual laws of the Jewish religion.
Many Galatians believed what these teachers said and turned away from the Gospel that Paul had proclaimed. This caused a deep and painful conflict between Paul and the Galatian Church. The Galatians felt that Paul had betrayed them with a diluted and insufficient Gospel of salvation. Paul, on the other hand, felt like a mother whose children had ran away. He felt frustrated, abandoned, and humiliated.
In the Gospel reading, we meet Jesus, ready to send out his close friends and disciples on a lifelong mission of proclamation and service. These disciples eagerly looked forward to the time when Jesus would claim the kingship over Israel and rule the nation as the lawful Son of David. They anticipated how they would be given important positions of power, honor, wealth and influence in the royal court of Jesus. Sometimes, they were even competing openly for Jesus’ favor and asked him explicitly for the best positions in his government.
In John 13, Jesus got together with his disciples for dinner. It would be the last time before his arrest, trial and execution. As they arrived at the rented dining room, they took their seats around the table.
Tradition prescribed that, before sitting down, the dinner guests would have their feet washed. This was a kind of welcome ritual, but it was important also for hygienic reasons. After all, the guests would have walked through the dusty streets of the busy city—and perhaps would have been unable to dodge one or more of the many little heaps of dung dropped by mules and donkeys.
In the time of Jesus, feet were considered the most detested parts of the body. To wash someone else’s feet was not the thing anyone would do voluntarily. It was a task given to a slave, preferably a non-Jewish slave. But in this dinner gathering, there were no slaves.
The next best choice would be the lowest-ranking of the disciples—presumably the youngest. But none of the disciples made a move. They preferred to skip this embarrassing ritual and get on with their dinner rather than humbling themselves before the others. Honor and status was too important for them.
So in the end, Jesus got up, took off his outer garment and wrapped a towel around his waist. He dressed up like a slave. And then he took a washing basin and a water jar and knelt before the disciples to wash their feet.
Surprisingly enough, some simply let him do it without saying a word. Whether they were embarrassed or not, we don’t know. But at least, they did not show it. Peter was the first to protest. But Jesus didn’t back out. He explained to Peter that he simply had to do what he was doing.
Then, when he had finished this humiliating job and rejoined his disciples around the table, he asked them whether they understood what he had been doing. And he gave them the assignment to do to one another what he had done to them. That is where the Gospel reading of today takes over.
Jesus does not play down his own identity or status. He is the master, they are the slaves. He is the teacher, they are the students. He is God, they are mere humans. And yet, Jesus washes their feet as a clear message to them: Nobody can claim that they are too good or too important to serve others.
Jesus calls for humility. Not the kind of humility that plays down who we are. Not the kind of humility that says, “Oh, I am only a good-for-nothing; I am only an immigrant; I am only an unemployed; I am only an asylum seeker. I guess I will have to do it then.”
Jesus calls for humility that says, “I know that I am the son or daughter of the King of heaven and earth. I am the richest person in the world, because I will inherit the kingdom of my Father. But that cannot hold me back from going on my knees to serve my brothers and sisters and whoever it is I can serve out of my own free will, even if it amounts to a dreadful and humiliating experience.”
It does not mean that we should allow others to manipulate us, to push us down, and to abuse our goodness. Jesus never said, “If somebody takes your coat, let him have it. If somebody forces you to walk one mile, do what he tells you. If somebody hits you on the cheek, bear the pain and the shame.” No, what he did say was this:
“If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also. And if anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, hand over your coat as well. If anyone forces you to go one mile, go with them two miles.”
In the Middle Eastern culture, where the Bible comes from and where Jesus lived, social life revolves around the concepts of honor and shame. If you are from Africa or Asia, you will recognize that from your own culture as well. And to be perfectly honest, it is just as much a mark of Western society, even though we deny it or play it down as much as we can.
It brings honor to succeed in life. Social status and financial wealth bring honor. Winning a conflict or an argument brings honor. On the other side, failure, bankruptcy, poor education or social status, or losing a dispute bring shame. It brings shame to be slapped on the cheek in public. It brings shame to be found guilty of an offence and receive a fine. It brings shame to be forced by an enemy to accompany him for a mile to carry his baggage. If that happens to you, you are a loser. Nobody wants to be a loser. And the good news is that Jesus doesn’t teach us to be losers. On the contrary!
When you turn the other cheek, you show your superiority over the other person. What you do is communicate to the other person and to whoever is watching that a slap or two in the face are not going to bring you down. They are not going to rob you of your dignity. They are not going to make you the laughing stock of town. By voluntary inviting such acts of disgrace, more than others actually want to subject you to, you cause them embarrassment. It turns against them. The shame turns on them.
When you reimburse somebody excessively for damage that you are not to blame for, you don’t make yourself look guilty. It is the one who made the claims that is going to be ashamed for suing someone who is obviously too goodhearted and kind to be guilty of anything mean.
When you refuse to quit after having been forced along for one mile, and continue your journey together for another mile, carrying his baggage, you might actually turn that person into a companion, a friend. That person will be so embarrassed as to feel he wants to repay good for good when the opportunity arises.
When Jesus washed the feet of his disciples, what kind of feelings did that act of humble service aroused in their hearts? We don’t know for sure. I guess that at least Judas Iscariot felt confirmed in his heart that Jesus was unpredictable, out of tune with his mission, and a potential danger to the cause of God’s kingdom. The sooner he was taken out, the better.
But what about the others? I think Peter’s reaction said it all. They were confused and embarrassed. Perhaps, they had been looking at each other for a while unable to say out loud that somebody should get up and do it. Or perhaps, they had intensely studied the ceiling of the upper room, hoping that the situation would go away soon and they could get on with the actual dinner. And afterwards, I guess that many of them would wonder in their own minds whether they should have taken the initiative before Jesus grabbed the opportunity.
Jesus calls for humility and he calls for service.
I remember very well a situation some time ago in our church. We had had a potluck dinner with many people and lots of food. When the food was gone and the people were leaving, I noticed that the coffee room was in a complete mess. There was food and toys all over the floor, the tables and the chairs were dirty, and there were empty bottles and soda cans everywhere. It seemed to me that nobody noticed, and nobody cared. Everybody was preparing to leave. So, without saying a word, I took off my jacket, got the broom and dustpan and a damp cleaning cloth, and started to clean the place. It took a while before somebody came to me, took the cleaning tools out of my hand, and said to me, “Pastor, give them to me. You are the pastor. You should not be cleaning.” I told her it is not a big deal, but without the tools I was not able to help with the cleaning any longer.
“You are the pastor. You should not be cleaning.” That is a classic example of misunderstanding the task that Jesus gave to his disciples, the apostles, the future leaders of the Christian Church—and of course to all who would call themselves followers of Jesus.
In some churches, pastors are called elders or overseers. It implies a leadership position that delivers them from the obligation to serve others. But in many other churches, the pastor is called a minister. That is not a high government position, even though the word can refer to such positions as well. The word “minister” comes from Latin. It is the opposite of “magister”. “Magister” means master or teacher. In contrast, “minister” means servant or student.
A minister is called to serve his magister, his master. In the opening words of our Gospel reading, Jesus said,
“Very truly I tell you, no servant is greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him. Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them.”
Is there anyone here today, who does not want God’s blessing on your life? [– –] That’s what I thought: We all want God to bless us. Well then, don’t just sit there and wait for others to serve you. Do like Jesus did: Be proactive. Get up and serve others with a humble servant heart. If you need to compete with one another, let it be a competition in service and humility. Because that is how you show your superiority as a servant of Christ Jesus.
It doesn’t matter what’s your education, your profession (if you have one), your job, your income, your skills and talents, your language, color or tribe. Can you imagine what a testimony it would be to others—to newcomers in our service, and especially to those who have not yet given their lives to Jesus—if they entered our community only to be overwhelmed by the common spirit of love, humility and service?
“Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them.”
Amen.
