Pentecost 20, October 22, 2006

      A man in a hot air balloon realized he was lost.  He reduced altitude and spotted a woman hiking along a trail.  He descended a bit more and shouted, “Excuse me, can you help me?  I promised a friend I would meet him an hour ago, but I don’t know where I am.”

     The woman below replied, “You are in a hot air balloon hovering approximately 30 feet above the ground.  You are between 40 and 41 degrees north latitude and between 59 and 60 degrees west longitude.”

     “You must be an engineer,” said the balloonist.

     “I am,” said the woman.  “How did you know?”

     “Well,” answered the balloonist, “everything you told me is technically correct, but I have no idea what to make of your information, and the fact is I am still lost.  Frankly, you’ve not been much help so far.”

     The woman below responded, “You must be in management.”

     “I am,” said the balloonist, “but how did you know?”

     “Well,” said the woman, “you don’t know where you are or where you are going.  You have risen to where you are due to a large quantity of hot air.  You made a promise which you have no idea how to keep, and you expect people beneath you to solve your problems.  The fact is you are in exactly the same position you were in before we met, but now, somehow, it’s all my fault!”

     James and John, the sons of Zebedee, wanted to be in management positions when the Kingdom came into being.  At least they wanted to be in middle management, one to the left and one to the right of the CEO’s office.  A nameplate on the door, polished brass, would be seen by everyone seeking an appointment with the head man.  It didn’t seem like too much to ask; so they asked.  In Matthew’s telling of this same story, it is the boys Momma who step up to ask the favor.  The beauty shop might even have a permanent chair reserved for “The Mother of the Left-hand and Right-hand Men of the Messiah.”  But, Mark puts the request in the mouth of James and John.

     Just prior to this interaction with James and John, Jesus had described the road of service he must walk leading to the cross.  In fact, his whole life as he had lived it before the disciples was one of humility and service.  The disciples, especially James and John, had not grasped his mission at all.  Mark says they were very often filled with misunderstandings and frustrations.

     After the first prediction of suffering and death on the cross, Peter had rebuked Jesus for speaking of the way of suffering and sacrifice.  Following the second prediction of suffering being the way, the disciples got into a quarrel concerning who of them was the greatest.  And now James and John have their eyes set on management positions.

     Jesus had pointed out that the way would not be easy.  Kingdom members would not be served but rather must lose their lives in service to God’s Kingdom and God’s people.  The more fundamental question concerns one’s willingness to undergo the sacrifices that will be required.

     We live in a society that has made religion into a sideshow or carnival.  Many people expect to be entertained when they attend modern churches.  Liturgy, “the work of the people,” is a foreign concept.  “Let me sit here and you tell me what I am to believe and what I am to do,” characterizes carnival Christianity.  Sacred music takes on the form of pop-rap-rock-jazz-country music accompanied by electric guitars and mood lighting.  Worship becomes a show or spectacle.  In that context, it is difficult to hear of sacrifice and service.

     Probably not many people would voluntarily join a club or organization that promised its members only sacrifice and service.  Yet Jesus attracted and continues to attract millions who are seeking the essence of life.  Those who search for the authentic spiritual life, through the model given by Jesus the Christ, find the real self.  That is not found in the worldly standards of power and glory.

     The disciples found it difficult not to dream of the longed-for Messiah in terms of pomp and power.  As his followers, they would share in all his fame and glory.  Somehow, they could not fit a cross into that dream; perhaps we have the same problem.  Those first disciples could not deal with a baptism of fire or drink the cup of agony that would be placed before them; perhaps we have the same difficulty.

     Oh, we hear it repeated in various circles these days… “No pain; no gain.”  That slogan sells thousands of videotapes and every known design of exercise equipment, all claiming to produce six-pack abs and buns of steel.  You can probably see many of those designs on the lawns around town at “Yard Sales.”  We’ve put a couple of them in the church yard sales over the past few years.  I would suggest that the slogan… “No pain; no gain,” applies more forcefully in the realm of the spiritual life than the physical one.

     It is interesting that Jesus did not talk about offices and officers of the church he was bringing into reality.  He used words like “servant” and “slave”, “being last,” “the least of these,” words that denote humility and service.  We have allowed the world, using Madison Avenue terminology, to sneak into church work.  Our offices have high-sounding names, like priest, rector, the Very Reverend, the Right Reverend, the Most Reverend and Right Honorable, and the one I prefer for myself, the Almost Reverend.  Perhaps it is harder for us than the first disciples to hear the admonition of Jesus to serve rather than be served. 

     We need to work daily on being real people of the Kingdom.  In the children’s book, The Velveteen Rabbit, a conversation takes place between two toy animals in a child’s nursery.  A new velveteen rabbit and an old, tattered skin horse are talking and the conversation gets around to being real.

     “What is real?” asked the rabbit one day, when they were lying side-by-side.  “Does it mean having things buzz inside and a stick-out handle?”

     “Real isn’t how you’re made,” said the skin horse.  “It’s a thing that happens to you.  When someone loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but really loves you, then you become real.”

     “Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit.

     “Sometimes,” said the skin horse, for he was always truthful.  “When you are real you don’t mind being hurt.”

     “Does it happen all at once, like being wound up, or bit by bit?”

     “It doesn’t happen all at once.  You become.  It takes a long time; that’s why it doesn’t often happen to people who break easily or have sharp edges, or have to be carefully kept.  Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very floppy and wobbly.   But these things don’t matter at all because once you are Real, you can’t be ugly…”

     Perhaps if we give ourselves away in service long enough for others and for the sake of the Gospel, we won’t break easily and the rough edges of ego and self-importance will be love away.  Maybe, just maybe, if we hear the words of Jesus saying over and over again, “Whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all,” we will begin to feel the pain of discipleship.  Maybe, just maybe, we will finally hear, accept, and act to become real.

     Then we will know the most amazing miracle of all.  We are, right now, far lovelier than we could ever imagine.  And we are indeed able to drink the cup that he provides, out of love, for each one of us to nourish our spirits and our souls.  Then it will not matter that some are engineers and some are management.  All will be redeemed children of God.  Amen.