Leaders, Servants, Children

A Sermon preached by The Rector on September 24, 2006
The Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost



And they came to Capernaum; and when [Jesus] was in the house he asked them, “What were you discussing on the way?” But they were silent; for on the way they had discussed with one another who was the greatest. St. Mark 9:30-37


In the Name of God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Ghost. Amen.

Today’s Gospel from Saint Mark shows us that through all the changes and developments of two thousand years of Church history, there are some things that do not change. First, Jesus tells his disciples for the second time and in no uncertain terms that he, the Son of man, will be delivered up “into the hands of men,” and they will kill him; and when he is killed, after three days, he will rise. This news is the very heart of the Gospel of Christ. Second, not only do the disciples not take in this word of God, but they have a discussion among themselves about which of them is the greatest.

Striving for church offices, titles and preferment, we see, goes back to the beginning, to the first word of the Gospel! Presumably this includes both clergy and lay striving. In any case, when Jesus asks them what they were discussing on the way home to Capernaum, they are silent; “for” (as Saint Mark notes) “they had discussed with one another who was the greatest.” Jesus does not correct them by denouncing hierarchy (such as Judaism, Roman Catholicism or Episcopalianism) or by commending a superficially un-hierarchical system (such as that of Baptists, Congregationalists or Quakers). Instead, he shows them what it means to be a disciple of his and, among his disciples, to be an apostle, a leader.

To be a disciple means to take up one’s own cross daily and to follow the pattern of Christ; to learn to “lose” one’s life in order to discover and to “save” it. Further, to be a leader within such a society (whether one is a Catholic, a Quaker, high church or low church, or somewhere in between) means understanding what Jesus meant in today’s Gospel when he spoke of being “servant of all” and when he put a child in their midst and commended the child as a representative of himself; in fact of “him who sent me,” that is, of God the Father. Let us look at Jesus’ two illustrations.

First, let us look at the servant. A good servant is rare and invaluable and always has been; this is true whether in a great household, or in a corporation, or on an athletic team, for the list goes on. Being a good servant is truly an art and science, combining knowledge of the job, skill, and a mind for the good of the whole, especially the head and his purposes. A good part of what could be called the art, or grace, of being a good servant, involves being present yet at the same time getting out of the way. The servant understands that “it’s not about him,” but he does have a very clear understanding of what “it” is about. “It” may be a well run household full of grace and favor for the members and their guests; or a well run business whose work is honorable and profitable; or a great athletic team whose victories are obviously deserved and who losses are nobly borne. In the case of the servant within the Body of Christ, the task is to please the Lord, the head of the Body, and no one has put it better than the Apostle Paul, who wrote, “For what we preach is not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, with ourselves as your servants for Jesus’ sake.” (II Cor 4:5)

Now let us look at the child. It is clear that Jesus is recommending childlikeness, not childishness. He is pointing out the beauty and the virtue of the child which need to be preserved as life goes along; he is not suggesting that adults regress to selfishness and tantrums when selfishness is disappointed. The beauty and virtue of the child is the trust, the simple receptiveness in listening, seeing, experiencing and responding, the lovely, moving openness, the guilelessness, the innocent wonder which inspires our love and protection. Even after the years of learning the art of defense in a sinful and broken world, Jesus is saying, his disciples require these graces of the child – if we are to see, to enter, and to receive others into the Kingdom of God. He said this more than once, but today’s Gospel is conclusive: “Whoever receives one such child in my name receives me; and whoever receives me, receives not me but him who sent me.” So disciples, and leaders, are to carry in their hearts and to be on the lookout for, the little ones, the children of God.

At the heart of all this is the figure of Jesus himself, regarded as both Son of man and Son of God. Jesus Christ is the head of the household, or, if you will, the business, the team. But more than any image drawn from the world, Jesus is also the content of the message, literally the food and drink, of the Body of his followers. I remember, years ago in college, when I first heard the call – which was articulated by two priests, one a professor, the other a local rector – to the ordained ministry. I had been moved by the cross of Christ (his complete self-giving) and realized that Christ lives – to speak to us here and now, to feed us, to guide us through life. Then I embraced the call as I thought and still think: “This Gospel is so good, it has to be shared, and I’m going to do it!”

I am just completing thirty four years as a priest and ten years of service as Rector of this always wonderful and challenging, sometimes maddening, much more often gratifying Saint Thomas Church in the City and County of New York. If the Lord provides, I would be glad to give this service another decade, to devote the “crown of the years” to the ministry of Jesus in this place. As a servant, I think of your own and your children’s baptisms, of preparation for confirmation and reception; of marriages, of your loved ones’ funerals and memorials; of pastoral meetings, visits and correspondence; of your responses to preaching, teaching, liturgy and music and your participation in good works and fellowship; of working with my fellow clergy, with the Maestro and Headmaster and our lay leaders such as wardens and vestry; of the great work of the Choir School; of social and even chance encounters which have rung out with surprising grace notes. Again the Apostle has a phrase for this panorama of life in the church, which he calls “the mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory.” (Col 1:27) Seeing this mystery unfold in the church, being part of it, is what makes the life of the priest, certainly this priest, the joy it truly is, the joy and wonder we first knew as children.

So let us keep training ourselves up in good service and true childlikeness. The more we are trained to be good servants and true children, the more faithful and effective each of us will be in our witness as disciples and to the duties of a particular office and ministry, if we are so called. The whole Body of Christ will be built up here at Saint Thomas, so that we may be seen to be the mystery of Christ, in each other and as a whole family, and take firm hold of the hope of glory yet to be revealed.


In the Name of God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit. Amen.

A Sermon preached by
The Reverend Andrew C. Mead
Rector of Saint Thomas Church Fifth Avenue
in the City of New York
on The Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost
at 11:00 o’clock
on Sunday, September 24, 2006