Jesus has come to suffer and serve, so you’ve got greatness upside down (Mark 10:32–45)

If you didn’t think Jesus’ disciples were a bit thickheaded before, you will now.

For the third time, Jesus predicts that he will suffer and die and rise again from the dead. What’s unique this time is that now he has set out toward Jerusalem, the headquarters of his enemies. The religious leaders of Israel hate Jesus’ guts, yet he’s leading his disciples right into the teeth of their religious empire. I suppose you could say that it’s an invasion of sorts, and his disciples are “amazed” and “afraid.” And when Jesus announces that it’s a death march, it doesn’t help matters.

However, a couple of his disciples are unflappable. James and his brother John look right past Jesus’ gloomy forecast and see only the glory on the other side. Jesus has called himself “the Son of Man,” and they probably remember from Daniel 7:13–14 that this “son of man” will be given “dominion and glory and a kingdom, that all peoples, nations, and languages should serve him.” They’d like a piece of that, thank you very much.

But how to broach the subject? “Teacher,” they say, “we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.” Uh-huh, very subtle. Jesus offers no promises, but they still request, “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.”

Jesus tells it like it is: “You do not know what you are asking.” They still haven’t picked up that Jesus isn’t the glorious, victorious political Messiah they’re wanting. He asks them if they’re able to suffer what he will suffer, and they respond, “We are able”—with a healthy dose of naïveté and arrogance. They have no idea what they’re in for. Jesus agrees that they will suffer, but still he won’t promise them the glory they’re looking for. “To sit at my right hand or at my left is not mine to grant,” he says, “but it is for those for whom it has been prepared.” He defers to his Father’s sovereign assignments. Positions of prestige in his kingdom can’t be bought with charm or good deeds; they can only be given freely by God.

James and John are finding out the hard way that to follow Jesus requires suffering, and it is not the sort of suffering one endures in order to gain prestige. We’re about to find out why not.

Word gets out to the other ten disciples that James and John tried (and failed) to pull of this power play. So of course they’re ticked. (“No fair! Why didn’t we think of it first!”) If I were Jesus, I’d throw up my hands at these boneheads, but he sees it as an opportunity to show them the upside-down kingdom of God. He reminds them that the present world system, as exemplified by the heathen Gentiles, values prestige, prominence, and the possession of power. In this world system, greatness means gaining power and using it to benefit yourself.

But Jesus tells them, “It is not so among you.” This is not how the invading upside-down kingdom works. Its economy is the exact opposite. In God’s kingdom, “whoever would be great among you must be your servant.” Well, that sounds annoying. Who wants to be at the beck and call of other people, many of whom are more stupid or boring or ugly or evil than you? How about you take it easy on us, Jesus?

No dice. “Whoever would be first among you must be slave of all,” he adds. Not just a servant, but a slave. Not just a slave of a handpicked few, but a slave of all.

Why is this? Where does this upside-down reality come from?

Jesus doesn’t derive it from abstract philosophical principles. No, he draws it from his own person and his own mission. “Even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve,” he says. Remember, this is the same “son of man” in Daniel who is to be served by “all peoples, languages, and nations”! And he has come to serve? Yes! In fact, his greatness in God’s kingdom comes from this mission. He will be the greatest of all because he will “give his life as a ransom for many.” He will give up his life as a price to God to pay for the sins of many. This atoning work will be the ground for the “dominion and glory and a kingdom” which the Ancient of Days will give him. He will receive the all-conquering upside-down kingdom as its King. Anyone who wishes to be great in this eternal kingdom must serve and suffer like he does.

So this is Jesus—the triumphant Son of Man, yet a humble, devoted slave who lays down his life in our place. As Samuel Crossman writes,

In life, no house, no home
My Lord on earth might have;
In death no friendly tomb
But what a stranger gave.
What may I say? Heav’n was His home;
But mine the tomb wherein He lay.

If you and I are his disciples, if we belong to him, then we must also serve and suffer. We have to give up any idea of an easy life. It’s okay if things are hard and painful. And we have to give up any idea of popularity or fame or influence. It’s okay to be small and unnoticed. In fact, it’s far better to serve others in small and unnoticed ways than to have the attention of the world fixed on you. For Jesus will not be disappointed with you.

Jesus has come to be lowly, so you must end your self-reliance (Mark 10:17–31)

The “seeker-centered church” has been one of the most popular methods of structuring the local church in the last few decades here in the USA. The idea is to gear your church service toward “seekers”—people showing interest in God and other spiritual matters. Teach them appealing spiritual truths; then, when you’ve hooked them, tell them about the gospel of Jesus Christ.

There’s a lot of good there, since these methods reflect a desire to advance the gospel and avoid becoming ingrown. When we look at the life of Jesus, however, there are times when his methods are the antithesis of “seeker centering.” The guy just didn’t put a lot of stock in marketing. Today, we see one of these odd incidents that reveal the upside-down mindset of Jesus.

This young man is the ideal “seeker.” He comes running up to Jesus and delivers him a golden opportunity when he asks the question, “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” Any evangelist worth his salt would be salivating right about now.

But instead of leading him through the Romans Road, Jesus latches onto the man’s first two throwaway words: “Why do you call me good?” This young man, who doesn’t recognize Jesus’ divinity, is yet quick to call him good. But Jesus is not so flippant. “No one is good except God alone—you know the commandments.” He rattles off a list of rules, drawn from the famous Ten Commandments of Moses. But rather than being humbled by his failure to keep the law, the young man naïvely replies, “Teacher, all these I have kept from my youth.”

Now, Jesus isn’t mad at the young man for making such a bold statement. Mark records at this point that he looks right at man and loves him. And because he loves him, he chooses to deliver a necessary but brutal answer to the man’s first question. The man knows deep down in his soul that he lacks something to inherit eternal life. Jesus confirms, “You lack one thing: go, sell all that you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.” It sounds like a lot of things, but really it’s one thing. Jesus is telling the man, “When it comes to the law, you’ve dotted all your i’s and crossed all your t’s. You’re a fine young man—on the outside. But your heart is not with me; it’s still latched onto this world. You need to transfer all your investments into my heavenly kingdom. In your case, that means selling everything you have and giving it to the poor. To be my follower, you can no longer be self-reliant, clinging to wealth to maintain your power, your prestige, and your security.”

The young man is crushed. Jesus is a master surgeon, and he has cut to the man’s heart. The man finds that his zeal is ebbing. He leaves, dejected and disappointed. There is a price for eternal life that he is not willing to pay.

Then Jesus pulls out this stunner: “How difficult it will be for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!” Jesus’ disciples are shocked at this statement. Like us, they think of the powerful and affluent as the ones whom God favors. There are many “prosperity” preachers who teach this exactly. And we unconsciously hold the mindset that Christians in wealthy countries such as the USA are superior saints to Christians in third-world countries. But Jesus contradicts us and then takes it a step further. Not only is it difficult for anyone to enter God’s kingdom, but “it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of God.” The disciples are horrified. “Then who can be saved?” they ask.

Jesus does offer a glimmer of hope: “All things are possible with God.” But the fact remains that if you’re a Westerner (and therefore rich), you’re in a very dangerous position. There are many countries in which it’s difficult to be a Christian, and Western countries are some of the most difficult. Why? Because it’s so easy to be independent and self-reliant. It’s so easy for an American to depend on his checking account or take pride in his house or show off his fancy new iPhone. Our wealth and comfort and ease numb us to our neediness. Like the church in Laodicea, we say, “I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing,” not realizing that we are “wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked” (Revelation 3:17). We are helpless like little children, and we need the divine power of Jesus. Wealth is not bad, but it obscures our neediness; it is the soil in which a wicked self-reliance takes root.

Now, Peter senses an opportunity for advancement. “We have left everything and followed you,” he reminds Jesus. In his reply, Jesus affirms that such sacrifice will not go unrewarded. His disciples will receive “a hundredfold now in this time” as they join the precious community of faith that Jesus will found. But he warns that in this age they will also receive persecutions, and that the greatest prize—eternal life—belongs to “the age to come.” Then he adds, “Many who are first will be last, and the last first.” Peter, because of his desire to be the greatest, is in danger of demoting himself to the lowest rank in God’s kingdom.

That’s the way God’s kingdom works. Jesus came to be rejected and killed, to be a suffering servant, to be dependent on his Father and do his will. He wants followers who will be dependent and Christ-reliant. If you life in a Western nation, consider it a handicap, and consider that you are surrounded by temptations that will bleed the desire for eternal life right out of your heart.

Jesus has come to be lowly, so you must be lowly like a child (Mark 10:13–16)

If you grew up in church, you probably know this children’s song by heart:

Jesus loves the little children,
All the children of the world!
Red and yellow, black and white,
They are precious in his sight.
Jesus loves the little children of the world!

Maybe you never stopped to ask why Jesus likes children so much. Well, today’s your lucky day.

Jesus is continuing his journey south toward Jerusalem. He has announced to his disciples that he will be betrayed, suffer, and die, and then rise again from the dead. His disciples are struggling to understand how someone who is God’s anointed Messiah could suffer and die like that. It doesn’t make sense to them. As a result, they’re not picking up on the way Jesus’ lowly mission should change their attitudes.

Yet another opportunity to show their spiritual dullness arises when some of the people around Jesus get it into their heads to have him bless their children. They recognize that this is a man sent from God, and they long for God to favor little Jonney and Susie. So they start bringing all their babies and toddlers for Jesus to touch and bless.

Now, this seems okay to us, but Jesus’ disciples didn’t think it was appropriate. At the time, children weren’t valued much in Jewish culture. Most people made just enough money to put food on the table; another child meant another mouth to feed. I’m sure there were many good parents who loved and valued their children, but for the most part, having a child was considered an unfortunate necessity if you wanted a future adult who could take care of you and pass on your family name.

That’s the way Jesus’ disciples are thinking of children, so it’s no wonder that they’re rebuking the parents for wasting the Rabbi’s time. But when Jesus sees their response, he gets ticked. He confronts them, saying, “Let the children come to me; do not hinder them!” Rather than viewing children as a waste of time, he wants them to be with him. Why? He explains, “For to such belongs the kingdom of God.”

Apparently, Jesus believes that people who are childlike are the people who will be a part of God’s coming kingdom. So in what way must a disciple of Jesus be like a child?

Perhaps our first response would be that disciples should be good and innocent like children. We tend to think of children as being basically wonderful little creatures who are later corrupted by outside influences. However, any parent knows that you don’t have to teach your children to be corrupt; they learn that on their own. You have to train them to be good. No one is innocent from birth, as the Israelite king David wrote: “Behold, I was brought forth in iniquity, and in sin did my mother conceive me” (Psalm 51:5). Besides, hasn’t Jesus invited wicked people like tax collectors to be with him (Mark 2:13–17)? It’s not moral purity that Jesus is looking for.

Neither is Jesus looking for a childlike naïveté. He doesn’t want his disciples to be unthinking and lacking in insight. On the contrary, he’s been frustrated at their dullness—“do you not perceive or understand?” (Mark 8:17).

No, there’s something about children that Jesus loves, and it’s the very thing that his culture hated about them. Children are helpless and useless. They seem to be a waste of time and resources. They tie you down and mess up your life dreams. They’re dependent and needy. That’s what Jesus loves about children.

Jesus isn’t looking for righteous people to be his disciples. In fact, he consistently rejects people who perceive themselves as “basically good people.” Neither is Jesus looking for naïve people. The truth is that Jesus wants useless, worthless, and lowly people. They’re the outcasts in this word, but when his kingdom comes, he will welcome them into it. Why? Because they recognize their need and cling to the one who became lowly for their sake. They are glad to identify with a lowly Messiah.

Jesus also delivers a warning to his disciples: “Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it.” Anyone who claims to be a good person or who thinks highly of himself or wants approval from others will be shut out of God’s kingdom. Such a person doesn’t want to submit to Jesus’ authority. Such a person would never identify with a lowly Messiah.

Jesus shows his disciples what this looks like in practice. He welcomes the little children, picks them up, and blesses them warmly. He is not ashamed to be associated with the lowly.

Now, in Western culture, we do value children quite a bit. But we don’t value them for the reasons that Jesus did. We tend to value children because we perceive that they will be of some benefit to us. Typically, the child will become Mommy and Daddy’s little self-actualizing device. That’s why so many parents live their lives vicariously through their kids, obsessing over their soccer games and morphing into “helicopter parents” who hover over their children even when they leave for college. This also means that if a child is an inconvenience, he or she can be disposed of in a socially acceptable way. That’s why abortion is so common, especially in the case of mentally or physically handicapped infants. We hold the exact same attitudes that Jesus hated. We define people—even ourselves—by our usefulness.

You and I don’t want to be useless. We don’t want to be unpopular. We don’t want to be lowly. We want to be productive members of society. But Jesus is calling you to recognize your uselessness. You are weak; you are small; you are powerless. Embrace your true lowliness, and you will find yourself embraced by Jesus.

Jesus has come to be lowly, so his disciples must submit to God’s will for marriage (Mark 10:1–12)

Mark records many of Jesus’ teachings that make you and me feel awkward and uncomfortable. Today, Jesus is going to say something that would deeply offend almost everyone in the world.

Jesus doesn’t pull any punches, does he? When his disciples want him to explain his teaching, hoping that he will add a few caveats, he only gets more extreme.

This is hard stuff. Anyone who has seen nasty marriages and family conflict must feel sympathy for people in those situations. How could anyone object to such a divorce? We all want our friends and family to escape suffering, don’t we?

This was the way Jesus’ countrymen thought as well. They turned to Deuteronomy 24:1–3 to demonstrate that God permitted divorce if a man “has found some indecency” in his wife. While some (more conservative) Jews argued that this meant adultery was the only ground for divorce, most agreed that these verses allowed divorce for any reason. Regardless, all agreed that divorce was permissible.

Some of these Pharisees must suspect that Jesus holds radical views on this issue (and boy, are they right). They want to undermine Jesus in some way, and they know that if he places any restrictions on the right to divorce, he’ll become unpopular with the crowds. So they ask him, “Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife?” Jesus replies, “What did Moses command you?” Of course, they refer him back to Deuteronomy.

Now, here’s where Jesus brings down the hammer. The Deuteronomy passage didn’t command divorce; it acted as damage control in case of divorce—which it assumed was already taking place. It prevented God’s people from being defiled by forbidden forms of remarriage. Jesus tells the Pharisees, “Because of your hardness of heart he wrote you this commandment.” In other words, Deuteronomy doesn’t reveal God’s ideal plan for marriage. God was being flexible with his stubborn people; but Jesus hates hardness of heart, and he holds his disciples to a higher standard. So he tells them what God really thinks of divorce.

In order to establish God’s original plan for marriage, Jesus goes back earlier than Deuteronomy. He goes all the way to the creation accounts of Genesis 1 and 2. He reminds the Pharisees that “God made them [man] male and female” (Genesis 1:27). They were created incomplete; God intended for them to be paired together. “Therefore,” Jesus says, “a man will leave his father and mother and hold fast to his wife, and they shall become one flesh.” He’s quoting Genesis 2:24 here and establishing it as the foundation for marriage. God created man and woman to be paired together, and marriage is what weaves them together. It’s an act of God’s creation. For this reason, Jesus warns, “What therefore God has joined together, let not man separate.”

In other words, divorce is man’s attempt to undo God’s work of uniting husband and wife. It’s an attempt at uncreation, at tearing apart God’s created order. Jesus insists that divorce is an act of rebellion against God, an attempt to usurp divine authority. Jesus has come to serve and submit to God, so he is adamant that his disciples not participate in such a power play that stands in total conflict to his mission.

What makes this teaching so hard is that divorce doesn’t feel like rebellion; it doesn’t feel like a power play. It feels like a painful and desperate attempt to escape an awful situation. That’s why Jesus’ disciples question him afterward. They’re shocked by how radical and insensitive his teaching is. But Jesus only gets more extreme: “Whoever divorces his wife and marries another commits adultery against her, and if she divorces her husband and marries another, she commits adultery.” Apparently, divorce is not only an attempt to usurp divine authority, but it’s a failed attempt to usurp divine authority. God refuses to accept man’s efforts to undo his act of creation. From his perspective—the only one that matters—a “divorced” couple is still married. He will not permit man to be victorious over him.

As Christians argue about divorce, the debate often centers around possible “exception clauses” found in Matthew 19:9 and 1 Corinthians 7:15. These are important discussions. However, it’s easy to make the mistake the Pharisees made, to focus on finding a loophole to get out of a bad marriage. Jesus calls his disciples to be willing to suffer as he suffered. Divorce is an easier path, but Jesus has not called his followers to an easier path. He wants them to explore other options.

This may be the most difficult saying of Jesus for me to stomach. It seems cruel not only for people in bad marriages, but also for people who are already divorced. Are they doomed to remain lonely if they aren’t able to return to their previous spouses? The fallout from Jesus’ teaching is terrible. It would have been just as terrible in his day as it is now. Yet he said these words anyway.

This leads us, I think, to the question, “Would Jesus ask his followers to suffer for his sake?” Would he dare to ask them to suffer through painful marriages? Would he dare to ask them to remain single for the rest of their lives if need be? I think we can say that yes, he would.

Jesus wants disciples who, like him, will remain in suffering if that’s what it takes to follow him. “If anyone would come after me,” he says, “let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me” (Mark 8:34). He was willing to suffer if that’s what it took to submit to the will of God. If you join him, he will be glad to call you his own when he comes in glory.

Jesus has come to be lowly, so you must beware of pride (Mark 9:42–50)

A woman cowers on the cliffs overlooking a deep mountain lake. An angry crowd has gathered to witness her terrifying death. Situated on the edge of the cliff, a massive disk-shaped stone stands on its side, a hole cut in the center. The executioners drag the trembling woman to the stone, force her head through the hole, and bind her in place with a rope. And then, with a single mighty push, they tip the stone over the edge. She tumbles end over end—sees sky, water, sky, water, sky—and then water.

In a dimly lit hut on the edge of a nearby village, a man drips with sweat as he studies a meat cleaver resting on a rough table. He sends his left hand toward the knife, forcing his fingers to close over the handle. Through a sheer force of will, he holds his right wrist to the table. The cleaver shakes in his hand; the man bites his lip; and a scream comes as it hacks through his wrist. Blood pools on the floor. And the man is not finished. Next will come his right foot, and then—he stares dully at the tiny sharp knife across the table—his right eye.

Sixty miles away, a garbage dump smolders outside of a city, the refuse slowly burning away. A naked man lies on his side, his eyes half open, his neck broken. His consciousness returns. How long has he been here? He sees well enough to know that his lower body is rotting away. And then he feels it. A small patch of skin on his hip swells, then splits, a handful of maggots emerging from the festering wound. He would scream in horror if his voice could be raised beyond a croak. A rogue tongue of flame licks across his arm, singing the hair and peeling the skin. He can’t move; his death will be long and slow and hideous.

These images are vivid and cruel, and I didn’t make them up.

Jesus did.

Last week, we read how Jesus had predicted his coming suffering, death, and resurrection. His disciples thought that he would be a conquering political Messiah, Glenn Beck on steroids, who would restore his people to their Jewish heritage and drive out the corrupting rule of the Romans. That the Messiah would suffer and die didn’t fit into their paradigm of how the world works. It wasn’t a part of their “glory story.” So Jesus scolded them for trying to look the greatest and for excluding other followers of his who weren’t a part of their little clique. He modeled a concern for useless people and valued the contributions of those who weren’t a part of the Twelve.

Now, Jesus issues a series of warnings relating to this elitist attitude. We’ve seen several times in Mark’s gospel that often, people who think they are “insiders”—faithful disciples of Jesus—are in fact “outsiders.” Jesus brings this topic up again and counsels those who think they’re on the insider track to God’s kingdom.

His first warning is the story of the execution—the stone and the lake. It would be better to undergo this awful fate than to cause “one of these little ones who believe in me to stumble,” Jesus says. The punishment for such a person will be extreme and horrifying. Similarly, he lays out a series of three parallel proverbs. He tells his disciples to cut off their hands, feet, and eyes rather than permit anything to cause them to stumble. “It is better for you to enter the kingdom of God” crippled or blind than “to be thrown into hell, ‘where their worm does not die and the fire is not quenched.’” He quotes the final verse of the book of Isaiah, where God subjects those who rebel against him to eternal torment. Jesus is not afraid to preach hellfire and brimstone—not even against his own disciples.

The point is clear. Jesus’ disciples must do whatever it takes to cut off and tear out the proud, elitist attitudes festering in their hearts. If they do not, it will lead to their own downfall and possibly the downfall of other “little ones.” And God will respond appropriately with righteous, unquenchable fury.

As he dwells on the imagery of the fires of hell, Jesus utters a cryptic statement: “For everyone will be salted with fire.” He’s probably thinking of the sacrifices that the people of Israel were commanded to make to God, sacrifices that were seasoned with salt (Leviticus 2:13). Now, he says, each of his disciples must be “a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God” (Romans 12:1). But if someone who claims to be his disciple becomes corrupted with pride, his “salt” will have “lost its saltiness” and be useless as seasoning. The sacrifice will be ruined. Such a person cannot honor God.

So Jesus tells his disciples, “Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace with one another.” Their Lord will soon face suffering; they should not imagine that they are any better than he. They must do what the Holy Spirit commands through the apostle Paul: “Live in harmony with one another. Do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly. Never be conceited” (Romans 12:16). There can be no rivalry, no one-upping, no boasting, no cliques in God’s kingdom. So beware of pride, a nasty and despicable sin. If you treat the lowly as garbage, you’ll quite literally be thrown out with the trash.

Jesus was lowly in his suffering, and in his suffering he served the lowly. If you are united with him, you too are a servant of the lowly and a “little one” yourself. Be glad that this is where true greatness is found.