Who is your example of great? As a chaplain at a youth correction center, I sometimes encounter young people who look up to drug dealers. Money and power seems to dance for them. They seem to be in control. One time I had invited a police officer to come talk to them. The discussion drifted toward their idea of great: money. Then it quickly shifted toward what they viewed to be the glamorous life of drug lords. It was clear that they idolized these men; their ability to do whatever they wanted. They threw a lot of names out at the police officer, who happened to be on the drug task force. Every name they wanted to rally behind as an example of wealth and power and greatness represented a person who was either dead or in prison. Well, that’s ironic. Who is your example of great?
In Luke 22:24-27 we see the disciples once again (cf. 9:46) discussing who was the greatest. Literally, Luke wrote, “And a love of quarreling happened among them as to which of them appeared to be greatest.” And doesn’t that describe humans: a love of quarreling? We enter into a tongue jousting tournament for the thrill of the competition. This particular jousting tournament was about the appearance of greatness. Who seems the most important? Who do you think has the most dignity? Anybody else wondering if we are on an elementary school playground? But are we any better, I wonder? Which church seems to be the greatest? And isn’t much of our fighting really about wanting to seem great or important? We tend to have a love for arguing; for jousting down those “more wrong than us” people. I may be wrong.
Jesus speaks into this jousting contest with, “The kings of the Gentiles lord it over them . . .” The word “lord it over” is the verb form of the word translated “lord,” or “master.” In the Greco-Roman world greatness had to do with authority, the right to force others to do what you want done; to make your political power palpable. Those who posses this right or authority are called, or have themselves called, benefactors. This was an honorific title; a public acknowledgement that the great person provides for you; that you owe them big time. Showing respect is not the issue here. It is the tyrannical demanding of it; it is the longing to be thought of and treated as better; as the greatest. And this is how leadership works in the world. Still does. Always will.
But Jesus calls us to something higher; something better; something greater. The greatest in his topsy turvy kingdom must become like the youngest. Youngest may be matched with the ones who lord it over. This is most likely about not having status. Even a wealthy son was not considered “master” or “lord” until a certain age. So, in the kingdom of God, the greatest person is the one who lives as if he has no status; as if he is an often ignored youth. No demonstrations of political power. The servant may be matched with the one who has himself called a benefactor. The word “servant” means “waiter.” No one would call a waiter a benefactor. Waiters were to be unnoticed; necessary movers of food and utensils. Ironically, the idea of a benefactor is also about service; a tyrannical service; a service that provides in order to control. The service of the waiter is not about control. In Jesus’ realm greatness is all about relinquishing status and control.
Then Jesus throws out a question that on the surface appears to be easily answered. Who is greater, the one who reclines at table and is served, or the one who serves? Their initial response would be the one who is waited upon. We may not verbalize it, but we are the same. If you are sitting at a restaurant, you are in control of the waiter. They are there to answer to your wants. And then Jesus said, “But I am among you as the one who serves.” Did their minds lurch? Did they leave everything to follow a status-less nothing? Or, is Jesus the greatest because he turned the tables upside down and gave us a different view of greatness?
So, if you are following Jesus, what does greatness look like to you? It looks like being more concerned about the marginalized and hurting than how you are seen. Right? So, while others are concerned about how they can exercise their authority over others; how they can maintain control over people and situations, you serve. Love and serve people. Lose any dreams of status. We do this weird thing in churches where we pick up status terms and apply them to church leaders. This seems counter-intuitive to Jesus’ topsy turvy kingdom. When asked for a title, I try to remember to say, “minister.”