When it comes to following Jesus, we like to imagine our path is a pretty smooth and straight forward one. Like long distance runners in an olympic race, making their way around the track who knows how many times, once the race sets in the runners tend to fall in line, one after the other, behind the leader who sets the pace lap after lap. For the most part the race is uneventful until perhaps the end when runners jockey for that first place position ahead of the finish line.
However, it is much more likely that our race looks like the hurdler whose foot barely caught the hurdle just enough for him to stumble to the ground. He gets up to finish the race, but as he does, his noticeable limp and slower pace hamper him the rest of the way. He still finishes, but not in the form he had hoped or trained for for so long.
Following Jesus is not the smooth, perfectly paced race any of us would like to imagine ourselves having. It’s a stumble here and a fall there – sometimes even wandering off the track until we’re coached back on! Ironically, the very thing that blinds us to seeing how messy our race is as we follow Jesus is also one of the greatest causes of our messy race: our pride. In fact, pride isn’t interested in following anyone, but presumes that we ought to be the ones in the lead and everyone else ought to be following us! That’s why we struggle mightily with pride; it is never content to follow, but always thinks it should be out in front.
Isn’t that really what happens when two people go back and forth over whether or not something was said? Rather than one person killing that foolishness with a simple, “I thought I had mentioned it, but I may be wrong, sorry,” or “You may have said it and I was distracted or just missed it, sorry,” neither side backs down, because pride insists on being out in front.
Isn’t pride also what really leads to political arguments? It’s not really about the candidate at all. Much more important is letting the other side know that their stupidity is responsible for their “wrong” vote and my superiority is to account for my “right” vote.
Pride has another nasty side. It is also pride that can debilitate me with worry or anxiety over everyone’s opinion of me. I become so convinced in my own head that everyone else must have thoughts or opinions about me all the time, instead of realizing I’m actually not even on their radar. And isn’t it pride that also results in depression? Even if I may legitimately be the victim of something hurtful, I remain in that role and convince myself that no one likes me and everyone is against me, and I always draw the short straw, making sure that my focus the whole time is on… me.
That’s what pride does! It’s so self-absorbed that all of this talk of following anyone else, even Jesus, is utter nonsense to the natural pride-filled self. But if God can open our eyes to see what a stumbling mess our lives are, then maybe we could learn to follow him more humbly.
In Mark 9, God does just that. As we see ourselves in the disciples, our hope is that we learn from Jesus’ lesson to them. May Jesus’ humble service to and for us start to be reflected more and more through us as we follow him!
Two incidents in the verses from Mark show how much room we have to grow. First, note that the disciples didn’t ask for more clarification when Jesus prophesied his death and resurrection. Imagine how different the Easter narrative might have been if they had!
If they had taken the time to ask Jesus to spell it out for them so they could understand exactly what he was telling them, the first Easter Sunday would have taken an entirely different tone. In place of uncertainty and fear and confusion, the believers might have been filled with excited expectation, anticipation, and pure elation. “Yes, it was a bitter pill to see the Savior die, but it had to happen just as he said it would, and now we can’t wait to see him again in just three days!” If they had had that kind of Easter understanding, how different the celebration of Easter would be in our day!
But why didn’t that ever happen? Because they were too proud. They lacked humility. As you read Mark, it may not sound like that initially, but let’s dig a little deeper. After Jesus had predicted his death and resurrection for them, Mark explained, “But they did not understand what he meant and were afraid to ask him about it” (v.32).
Sounds pretty harmless and totally relatable. We’ve all been there. We don’t want to look dumb by asking a foolish question. We don’t get something, we don’t understand it, but rather than seeking out greater understanding, we remain ignorant. Students do this in the classroom. Grownups do it in the workplace. We don’t fully grasp something, but we fail to ask about it out of a fear of looking stupid.
While we’re inclined to sympathize for the person in that situation, what’s really the underlying issue? What are we really saying when we admit that we’re afraid of looking stupid or foolish? We’re saying, “That would hurt my pride, so I’d rather not do that. I am more concerned about other people’s opinion of me than I am about seeking clarification or understanding. I can’t very well have others thinking less of me, because that would wound my pride too much. I think too much of myself to let others think less of me.”
Then, to take it to another level, remember that it’s Jesus – omniscient Jesus, all-knowing Jesus – in the picture. The disciples weren’t going to fool him! He knows thoughts and what is in the heart, so in refraining from asking for understanding, they couldn’t hide anything – including their pride – from Jesus.
The disciples’ lack of humility revealed itself again immediately following that incident. When they got to where they were staying, Jesus asked them, “‘What were you arguing about on the road?’ But they kept quiet because on the way they had argued about who was the greatest” (v.33-34). Jesus’ question was like that of the father interrogating the child he already knows is guilty. He wasn’t looking for information as much as a confession, an admission of wrongdoing. The most shocking part? “They kept quiet…”
Can you imagine Jesus asking you a question and… not answering?!? That’s hard enough to do to a teacher, a parent, or a boss, but to not respond when the Son of God asks you a question?!? Whoa! What could possibly cause these faithful followers to clam up and close their lips when Jesus Christ asked them a question?
Guilt. Guilt sewed their lips shut. And what was the cause of their guilt? “…because on the way they had argued about who was the greatest” (v.34). The other Gospels provide us with some details about the subject matter surrounding their “who’s the greatest” debate. But we also know they were just on the Mt. of Transfiguration, so the three from Jesus’ inner circle – Peter, James, and John – certainly must have had a leg up on the competition, at least in their own minds. And even when we’re told the other disciples took issue with their arguing over who was the greatest, their concern only revealed a lack of humility, for each one of them surely thought he deserved to be a part of such a debate!
What mattered more than their pride-puffing resumes, however, was bursting their bubble and teaching them that followers of Jesus value humility over pride.
But before we sit in on Jesus’ teaching on humility, let’s recall why humility is such a big deal in God’s eyes in the life of the Christian as he follows Jesus. It is more than a noble virtue to pursue. It is not just another way for the Christian to let his light shine in a world overpopulated with pride. No, humility is big in God’s book because our whole relationship with him is based on it.
Without humility, there can be no submission to God. Where humility is absent, so is the willingness to listen to and apply the Word of God. Where pride reigns supreme, it views Jesus not as Lord or Master, but as servant. Where pride is present, I call the shots and expect God to operate according to my plans and purposes, and should he choose not to, then my pride has no time for him. Pride remains blind to everything God has done for me because it refuses to see my need for it.
Now then, knowing that Jesus was fully aware of his disciples’ pride as well as our own, do you see the grace that is seeping through the words Jesus spoke? He said, “The Son of Man is going to be delivered into the hands of men. They will kill him, and after three days he will rise” (v.31). Jesus knew their pride and ours. It was not hidden from him.
Yet it changed nothing. The plan did not change because of man’s pride that would potentially disregard the very sacrifice and resurrection Jesus predicted; rather pride was exactly why the plan stayed the same!
Pride – our pride – was precisely why the Son of man had to be handed over, tortured, and murdered. Our pride needed to be pinned to the cross and paid for. So Jesus did that for us. Jesus, knowing the hearts and minds of men who think they know better than the heart and mind of God, still died. In Jesus Christ, God, whose perfection alone would justify pride, traded it willingly for perfect humility, putting himself beneath every insubordinate sinner, to offer salvation for all people.
That sacrificial act of holy humility changes us. It changes how we follow Jesus. So we eagerly want to hear what Jesus has to say about humility.
To teach that point, Jesus used a little kid. Jesus explained, “Anyone who wants to be first must be the very last, and the servant of all.” He took a little child whom he placed among them. Taking the child in his arms, he said to them, “Whoever welcomes one of these little children in my name welcomes me; and whoever welcomes me does not welcome me but the one who sent me” (v.35-37). If we are to understand Jesus’ point, we have to let go of our society’s modern-day view of children that elevates the role of the child to what amounts to being the head of the household. Many parents today are more concerned about catering to their children than they are about parenting them.
In Jesus’ day, children were viewed quite differently. They were another mouth to feed and a body to clothe. Children were viewed as a liability, not an asset. So Jesus was essentially telling the disciples that humility was looking up to those on whom society looked down. It was putting self lower than those we naturally tend to place ourselves over. Humility was not “me first,” but “you first.”
See your followership of Jesus the way it really is and not as you pretend it to be. It’s messy. We’re going to stumble more often than not. But rather than trying to hide it or cover it up, embrace it as the humble reminder of how much we all need Jesus. Then, leaving our pride more and more in the rearview mirror, let’s stumble humbly as we continue to follow Jesus together.