“Chutzpa and Hubris”

Mark 10:35-45

The words chutzpa and hubris make up the sermon title. They could just as easily be interchangeable nicknames for James and John. Hubris is excessive pride or arrogance. Chutzpa is a Yiddish term for brazen audacity. An illustration of chutzpa: A young man, who has been convicted of killing his parents, asks the court for mercy because he’s an orphan.

Thus it was with James and John in this morning’s text; they were arrogant and audacious in their assumption that Jesus would consider them for the two most honored positions in the post-messianic kingdom. In Matthew’s version they get their mother to do the asking, thus fulfilling every Jewish mother joke ever made. Not only do they let her do the dirty work, they also break one of the cardinal rules of a job search: you never take your mother to an interview!

Jesus tells them no. First of all, it’s not his decision. It’s one only his Father can make. Secondly, he realizes that they really don’t know what it is they’re requesting. If Jesus had granted them their wish they would have been crucified with him: one on the right, one on the left. Thus would have been reinforced an eternal truth: be careful what you ask for; you might just get it.

The stuff really hit the fan when the ten other disciples found out about it. They got all bent out of shape. How dare James and John engage in such naked self-promotion! They were offended. They were also jealous. Each and every one of them wanted the same thing: a place of honor in the coming kingdom.

None of them had been listening to Jesus. Over and over again he had told that he was going to Jerusalem to die on a cross. Over and over again he had been telling them that his kingdom wasn’t going to be a replica of those of David and Solomon, a new Jerusalem-based empire that would replace that of the Romans. And yet they still dreamed of that very thing coming to pass.

And why not? Those disciples had spent their lives on the outside looking in. They wanted to be on the inside looking out for a change. In their world they were nobodies. They wanted to be not only some-bodies, but super some-bodies: powerful rather than powerless, rich instead of poor, the ones in charge rather than the ones taking the orders, holding positions of honor instead of dishonor. They wanted to be successful as it was defined by their culture. They desired greatness as it was and still is defined by every culture. They wanted to be “da man!”

Jesus talked about suffering; they dreamed of comfort and luxury. Jesus described death on a cross; they had visions of living the good life. Jesus asked for humility; they were demanding honor. Jesus spoke of servanthood; they wanted to be the boss. Jesus was modeling surrender to God’s will; they were making plans for conquests.

And so Jesus said to them that day, quoting The Message, “You’ve observed how godless rulers throw their weight around, and when people get a little power how quickly it goes to their heads. It’s not going to be that way with you. Whoever wants to be great must become a servant. Whoever wants to be first among you must be your slave. That is what the Son of Man has done: He came to serve, not be served – and then to give away his life in exchange for many who are held hostage.” Or as the more traditional translations have it, “… to give his life as a ransom for many.”

Many years ago I had an idea for a book of devotions titled Prayers from the Bubble. If you pay attention to sports you’ll hear the phrase “on the bubble.” A team is “on the bubble” when it might or might not be selected for a slot in a major tournament. A player is “on the bubble” when he may or may not be one of the last players to be cut from the team. The “bubble” is a place of uncertainty. Living “on the bubble” means living on that line between success and failure, living with the daily reality that you might not be one of the chosen few. The “bubble” is a precarious place to be. If anything goes wrong you’ll end up on the outside looking in.

At that time in my life I was living and doing ministry “on the bubble,” serving a wee little congregation stuck in the middle of nowhere. That’s where I was meant to be. That’s where I needed to be. It was a great place to recover from chutzpa and hubris. And I was afflicted with both.

Be that as it may even “on the bubble” I found myself pretty much on the outside looking in. Friends and colleagues were serving bigger churches and making more money. Living and doing money in a culture – and church – where one’s worth was measured in dollars, I didn’t feel worth very much. In a culture – and church – that defined bigger as better, my ego was taking a beating. In a culture – and church – where the fast track to success was the place to be, I saw myself on one of life’s cow paths slowly going nowhere, or wherever that place is that is beyond nowhere.

The book I started writing was therapeutic. Instead of whining about being “on the bubble,” I was able to start celebrating being there. Through my scribbling I came to understand that being “on the bubble” was necessary to my spiritual and emotional health, a necessary part of my recovery from the chutzpa and hubris that threatened to destroy me.

I never finished that book. Trying to write it was far more important than ever getting it published. If the truth be known, if I had finished it and found a publisher, instead of being defeated, my chutzpa and hubris would have come roaring back to life. I would have been eaten alive by my own success.

I was reminded of all that while attending a Wee Kirk Conference this past week. Wee Kirk is Scottish for Small Church. The Conference was a celebration of small churches and their leadership. It was a time and place for small churches and their pastors to spend some time on the inside looking out, but in a healthy way. Being there reinforced the truth of the Gospel, reminding all of us that those who served and led the many wee little Presbyterian churches spread around our nation that what they did mattered in the context of the Kingdom even if it was devalued by our culture.

I keep attending these conferences even though I no longer serve a Wee Kirk. I attend to catch up with old friends and take advantage of some first class continuing education that’s worth far more than you guys pay for it. I also attend to maintain my Wee Kirk roots, to remind myself that the ministry I used to do is just as important as the ministry I’m doing now. More than anything else I go to pay my respects to all those friends and colleagues who have gone before, those friends and colleagues who faithfully lived out Jesus’ words about servanthood and humility: and all those friends and colleagues who still work for minimal presbytery minimum financial packages, often live in drafty old manses, struggle to educate their children, and still find a way to tithe to their churches. I attend these conferences as a way of nurturing my ongoing recovery from chutzpa and hubris.

And to be reminded that the church is usually at its best in terms of representing the values of the Kingdom when it is on the outside looking in. Maybe the healthiest place a church can be is “on the bubble.” The early church was, by definition, always “on the bubble.” It had no earthly power, no political or economic clout. Its values were so upside down in terms of the culture that people made fun of it. If the Roman Empire gave it any heed, it was usually to persecute it for not being willing to sell its soul to the emperor, for not being willing to go along in order to get along.

One of the great tragedies of church history was the Emperor Constantine’s recognition of it. From that day forward it was co-opted by the empire and turned into an instrument for advancing the empire’s agenda. The church has never fared well in terms of its faithfulness when it has allowed itself to be co-opted by the culture surrounding it. Every time that happens the church suffers from a near fatal dose of chutzpa and hubris. Instead of serving it looks to be served. Instead of modeling the humility of Christ it seeks power. Instead of serving the cause of Christ it all too often sells its soul in exchange for that mess of pottage known as political and economic clout. Instead of being Christ’s Body in the world it becomes just another lackey of Caesar. In other words, it becomes exactly what Jesus told the disciples it wasn’t supposed to be.

Chutzpa and hubris: destructive forces that undermine the cause of Christ. Chutzpa and hubris: instruments by which the church and its members self-destruct. Chutzpa and hubris: we are saved from them only by the Grace of God. Chutzpa and hubris: Christ died to set us free from their power. Amen.