Living God, you feed us not only with bread from the harvest but with your Word, which stands by us in every circumstance. Nourish us with your hope, and comfort us with your presence, as we listen for your voice speaking in the Scriptures today. Amen.
Gospel Reading: Mark 9:30-37
This morning, we are invited to listen to Jesus as he challenges our ideas of power, success, and significance. What does it mean to follow a crucified Messiah? What does true greatness look like in the kingdom of God? And what does it mean for us to receive and care for those who are overlooked—just as if we were receiving Christ himself?
There are some conversations we would rather not have. They make us uncomfortable, challenge our assumptions, or force us to confront truths we’d prefer to avoid. In today’s passage from the Gospel of Mark, Jesus starts just such a conversation. As he and his disciples travel through Galilee, he tells them—once again—that he will be betrayed, killed, and after three days, rise again. But the disciples don’t understand, and they’re too afraid to ask.
Instead, they fall into a more familiar and far more comfortable discussion—one about status and greatness. Who among them is the greatest? Jesus doesn’t condemn their misunderstanding; he offers them a new vision of what it means to be great. He turns the idea of greatness upside down: “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” And then, in a powerful and unexpected moment, he places a child in their midst and says, “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.”
As our Gospel lesson begins, we find Jesus and his disciples passing through Galilee, but this time he wasn’t teaching the crowds or performing miracles, he was keeping a low profile. Jesus was intentionally preparing his disciples for what was to come—his death and resurrection. Just days earlier, Mark tells us, “Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again.” (Mark 8:31) But they weren’t ready. They had seen his power in healing the sick and feeding the crowds, saw his splendour at the Transfiguration, and they still believed that he was going to overcome the Roman occupation and return Israel to its rightful glory.
And on this journey, Jesus wants privacy. Mark says, “He did not want anyone to know it; for he was teaching his disciples…” Jesus didn’t want anyone to know where they were as, once again, he was going to try to explain to his closest followers that he was about to suffer and die, but then after three days, rise again. The last time he had tried this, the disciples failed to understand, and Peter went so far as to rebuke him for saying such a thing.
So now, Jesus tries again, saying, “‘The Son of Man is to be betrayed into human hands, and they will kill him, and three days after being killed, he will rise again.’” But, once again, it doesn’t sink in, Mark says, “But they did not understand what he was saying and were afraid to ask him.” The disciples still didn’t understand, and what is more, they are afraid to ask any questions. Perhaps they don’t want to accept this confusing message about a Messiah who suffers and dies. The idea that the Messiah, the long-awaited King, would be killed was unthinkable. It didn’t fit their expectations.
Or perhaps they were afraid to reveal their ignorance. When Jesus had told them the same thing a few days earlier and Peter had rebuked him, this is what Jesus had said to him, “‘…Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.’” (Mark 8:33) Maybe they wanted to avoid similar humiliation. In any case, their fear of asking any questions meant that they stayed in their state of ignorance and confusion.
And yet, how often do we do the same? We want a Messiah who brings comfort but not challenge. We want victory without the cost. But Jesus doesn’t conform to our ideas. He invites us to follow him—not around the cross, but through it. And let’s not miss that last phrase: “They were afraid to ask.” Sometimes fear keeps us from drawing closer to Jesus. We’re afraid of what the answer might be, afraid it will demand something of us.
And so, Jesus and his disciples continued with their journey and come to the village of Capernaum and enter a home, quite likely that of Peter and his brother, Andrew. Jesus, who no doubt had heard them talking amongst themselves as they were walking, said to them, “‘What were you arguing about on the way?’” Mark gives us their reply, “But they were silent, for on the way they had argued with one another about who was the greatest.” Of course they were silent, they were too embarrassed to admit that they had been arguing with each other about who was the greatest among them.
So here we have Jesus is walking toward the cross and his disciples are jockeying for position. While Jesus is preparing to die, they’re debating status. While Jesus speaks of suffering, they’re busy arguing about who ranks highest. And yet, Jesus doesn’t scold them. Instead, he sits down, calls them close, and teaches them something that turns their world upside down. He says, “‘Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.’” Jesus then took a little child who was in the house in his arms and said, “‘Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.’”
Now, in those times, children were not considered important. They had no status, no voice, no power. They were seen as being of little value, only becoming something of worth when they became old enough to go out to work. But Jesus brings such a child into the center of the circle of his disciples and takes that child into his arms and uses it as an example of something worthwhile.
And in the same way, we are called to welcome those who are vulnerable, expecting nothing in return. When we do, we welcome Jesus and our God, who sent him. Living with love that isn’t selfish or hidden brings us into God’s kingdom. And it starts with how we treat the people who need our care the most.
When Jesus said to his disciples, “‘Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.’”, he was teaching them that greatness in the kingdom of God is not about climbing higher, it’s about stooping lower. It’s not about being admired, it’s about serving quietly. It’s not about winning the spotlight; it’s about giving your life for others.
Welcoming someone with no status, no ability to repay you, no influence—that’s where true greatness lies. In other words, when you care for the least, you are caring for the Lord. And then Jesus goes one step further: “…and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.” When we serve others, we’re not just doing a good deed. We are touching the very heart of God.
Jesus invites us to follow a different way—a way where we serve, where we give, where we lower ourselves in love, and find that this is where God is found. You want to be great? Jesus says: start by serving, welcome the forgotten, pay attention to the ones the world overlooks.
The grace of God that Jesus teaches, and lives, turns upside down the world’s ideas of greatness—things like status, wealth, and success. Maybe that’s why we often resist grace. It’s easier to chase greatness by the world’s standards than by Jesus’ standards. But in Jesus’ eyes, true greatness means being humble and open like a child. And again and again, Jesus shows us that this humble way is the way to real life.
Let us Pray:
Lord Jesus, you turned the world’s idea of greatness upside down. You humbled yourself and served others, even to the point of death. Teach us to walk your path—not seeking status or recognition but seeking to love and serve. Open our eyes to see you in the small, the weak, the overlooked. And give us grace to welcome others as you have welcomed us. Amen.