Matthew 16:21-28
The Servant Mode or Take Up Your Cross
Have you ever said the wrong thing at the wrong time? Of course you have! I have too – far too often to count. Some folks call that “putting your foot in your mouth.” When I think about that phrase literally, it strikes me as hilarious. Although, when I say the wrong thing at the wrong time it is not so funny.
It was in last Sabbath’s reading that we noted the apostle Peter on a spiritual high. Gathered together in Philippi, Jesus asked the disciples, “Who do people say the Son of Man is” (Mt 16:13)? They reply: “Some say John the Baptist, but others Elijah, and still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets” (Mt 16:14). Now comes the important question, “But who do you say that I am” (Mt 16:15)? Peter spoke with authority and wisdom when he replied, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God” (Mt 16:16). Jesus was pleased and said some moving words of affirmation to Peter.
How quickly things change! In today’s Sabbath reading, we view this same Peter putting the proverbial foot in the mouth, saying the wrong thing at the wrong time.
Jesus is trying to prepare the disciples for the time, fast approaching, when he must go to Jerusalem. There he would suffer and be persecuted, and yes, even die. Here comes Peter! He takes Jesus aside and begins to chide him saying: “God forbid it, Lord! This must never happen to you” (v. 22)! In other words, “Don’t talk that way, Lord! We’re doing some good here with all the preaching, teaching, and healing. It is not necessary for you to go to Jerusalem. Don’t rock the boat!” Jesus, just as sternly, says to Peter: “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; for you are setting your mind not on divine things” (vs. 25). In other words, “Peter, you are not thinking about the will of God. You are thinking of human things, saying the wrong thing at the wrong time.”
I remember a story I heard some years ago about the days when preachers were circuit riders. Circuit riders rode horses and, since preachers were in short supply, they tried to minister to a number of congregations in their circuit. In PA, I did this for a short time as an interim supply pastor for three congregations of two different denominations. I did not ride horses, however! One preacher, the story goes, being a very spiritual man, had cleverly taught his horse to respond to different commands that the traditional “whoa” and “giddy-up.” When he wanted to move out, he swung into the saddle and shouted “Hallelujah.” The horse immediately began to move forward. When he arrived at his destination and wanted the horse to stop, he would shout “Amen.” Sure enough the horse would stop.
That worked fine until the day he ran into some dense fog. He knew that on this part of the trail, they would be moving very close by the edge of a cliff. He thought it best to stop and take a look, so he shouted “Amen.” The horse obediently stopped. The preacher looked cautiously over the front of the horse. He was shocked and surprised to see that they were at the very edge of the cliff. The preacher let out a sigh of relief. He was so grateful (he couldn’t help himself) that he hollered out a word of praise, “Hallelujah!” If you have followed the story, you know that he said the wrong thing.
A preacher once told the following story about a man who was recovering from a serious heart operation. The preacher said that the man shared with him some of the stupid things people said to him in the hospital. They said: “You look great!” His own take on the comment: “I know I don’t. I’m thin, pale, weak, and tired. I look awful and I feel awful. Nobody wants to talk about my heart. I’d love to tell someone about my operation.” Others tried to cheer him up by saying how lucky I am, that I’m not nearly as bad off as a friend of theirs, or a truck could have hit me. Still others told me: “I know how you feel.” His take: “Unless they have gone through a triple by-pass operation, they haven’t a clue as to how I feel.”
My purpose in relating these stories is to create some empathy for Peter. I think many of us have been there with him. We have said the wrong things at the wrong times, and we usually do not like ourselves too much after we have done it.
Having said that, let us now move to what I believe is the heart of the gospel. Jesus is trying to get the disciples to see themselves in a “servant mode” rather than a “power mode.”
This lesson did not compute immediately for them. Even as late as the night before Jesus died on the cross, Jesus was trying to get this message across to them. The setting of course, was the rented room where they gathered as people of God to celebrate the Passover meal. Since there was no host, no one provided a servant to wash their sandal-clad, dusty feet. How discouraging it must have been for Jesus to listen to the disciples argue about who was going to do the washing. Finally, much to the surprise and embarrassment of the disciples, Jesus took care of the task. When he was done, he said to them: “I have set you an example” (John 13:15). In other words, this is the “servant mode,” this is what it means to be a Christian – to serve and to deny yourself.
Society certainly has played a big part in conditioning us to admire power. It doesn’t matter if it is financial power, political power (Consider the advertising shows that we have just witnessed), military power, or athletic power (the Olympics!). It is what many of us crave and seek.
Sports Illustrated magazine once had an interview with Leo Durocher, the legendary baseball player and manager. Millions for his aggressive style of play admired Durocher. In the interview, he was asked about a statement that supposedly had been made by him. The statement was: “Nice guys finish last.” Responding to the interviewer’s question, Durocher said that he never made that statement. What he remembered saying was this: “If I were playing third base and my mother came around third with the winning run, I’d trip her.” After a pause, he said: “That upset my mother very much.”
What a horrible thought! But perhaps inwardly many of us will say: “Right on, Leo! That is what it takes to win and be successful in this ‘dog eat dog world.’ If you want to survive, you’ve got to have power in this life.”
Can you see where the words of Jesus may compute for us intellectually, but never fully filter down into that part of us that motivates us to change. Society says power; Jesus says: “Deny yourself. Be a servant. Take up your cross and follow me.”
We cannot forget 9-11 when terrorists guided two passenger planes into the towers of the World Trade Center in New York City and another plane into the Pentagon in Washington, DC. Shortly after this happened, I mentioned in a sermon that it was truly a terrible nine-one-one incident, and a member of the congregation after the service said that he had never put the date and the number together like that. While this incident made us aghast in disbelief at such depths of evil and hate, we also were privileged to see human beings at their best. We saw humans in the “servant mode,” sacrificing their safety and their lives to rescue others. We heard and read about terrified passengers calling their loved ones as they faced death, assuring them once again of their love.
Maybe, in spite of ourselves, some of this “servant-hood” filters through when we are forced to evaluate what is important. I know that I am encouraged and the beauty of the “servant mode” in action inspires me.
So, my prayer is this: Keep showing us, Lord, your call to lose ourselves for your sake. Keep nudging us toward that way of life. And, Lord, make us open to your leading. Amen.
