[AI translation] Before I talk about the essential, the actual message of this little story, let me draw your attention to a minor, but not insignificant, fact: Jesus and his disciples were on their way from somewhere to somewhere else. It seems that Jesus either went ahead or stayed behind, but in any case he must have been walking separately from the others, perhaps praying, perhaps meditating. We see from the description that the disciples were talking among themselves, discussing something, arguing in hushed tones. Thus Mark writes: "they were in the way, who was greater than they?" (Mk 9,34b) Perhaps it was the scene of the glorification, which had taken place not long before, that gave rise to this question. Perhaps those who were with Jesus on the mountain at that time and saw the Lord's change of colour began to feel themselves more important than the others. Or perhaps Peter was referring to the fact that he was the best orator among them, the one most called upon. Perhaps James argued that he was the first disciple of Jesus, the others all came after him. John may have gently remarked that he was the youngest and that Jesus had shown him the most obvious confidence. Maybe Judas boasted that he had the money of the little company, that he was the financial boss, that they couldn't even have lunch without him. That's the way it is in all small and large companies, and internationally too. They got quite involved in the debate, and certainly could not decide the issue, because each of them considered his own argument to be the most compelling. Jesus was silent. And it was only when they got home that he asked, "What did you dispute about on the road?" (Mk 9,33b) The many clever men were then shocked. That's how stupid we are. Jesus tells us of His coming suffering and death, and we argue about which of us is greater than the other? Now that it was all laid out before Jesus, with Jesus asking the questions, suddenly everything they were talking about was in a different light. Now they realize how petty and trivial they were bickering about, how ridiculous they were making a problem out of. They were so ashamed of themselves that they did not even dare to answer Jesus' question. You can't even say that to Jesus! Their eyes were downcast and they listened in confusion.I can so understand this confused silence before Jesus! I have so often imagined, when people argue, if Jesus would ask them: what were you arguing about so passionately? What would we say? So much energy is wasted on unnecessary bickering, squabbling, arguing, day after day in family quarrels, in arguments over political issues, in talking amongst ourselves. So soon we get into heated arguments between people at home or on the tram or while doing our work. I imagine to myself: if someone were to secretly record this now on a tape recorder and film it in a few hours in front of the interested parties, it would be very embarrassing, humiliating. They say people are nervous, that's why they explode at every little thing. Maybe, but try for once to repeat to Jesus the outbursts of passion and argument that we produce in a debate: you would be very ashamed. I understand that the disciples were silent. They were unable to speak. After all, things have such a different meaning before Jesus! In Jesus' presence, the problems that were so important without him are so dwarfed. The next time you are defending your own rightness to someone, the next time tension explodes between you and someone else, the next time you are "competing" with someone, remember that Jesus intervenes: What are you contending about? You will certainly see the problem in different proportions at the same time.
Then the astonishing thing is that the disciples tried in vain to hide it from the Lord, but Jesus knew what was going on between them. It is clear from the fact that he is teaching them on the very issue they were arguing about. No matter how much you conceal or even deny something, no matter how much you hide something that would shame you if you had to tell it, someone still knows. I heard it from adults when I was a child: "Never say or do anything that you should not say or do in front of your mother! It's not such bad advice, especially when it's said like this: never say or do anything that you can't do in the presence of Jesus! The disciples didn't even think that Jesus could hear what they were saying, that Jesus was listening to them. They thought they were on their own. There is no such thing as being alone. You're never just "in yourself", even in your deepest thoughts. Someone's eyes are always on you. Someone's ears and heart are always open to you. Somebody will ask you at the end of your whole journey: what was it that was so important to you along the way? Would you still speak to your spouse so coldly? Would you still speak to your young colleague with such ambiguity and kindness? Would you still play with a sinful thought in your heart? Would you allow yourself to make that sly joke or that angry, rude word if you knew, if you could see, that Jesus is there and hears and sees everything? This story shows, among other things, that He hears and sees everything even when you are not even thinking about Him. Could you start a new week like this tomorrow? It would most certainly be a new week.
Let's see, what was it that the disciples were contending over? It is a perennial problem among men today. Psychologists say that one of the most powerful instincts in the human soul, along with the most basic instincts such as the food instinct and the sex instinct, is the desire for power. Everyone tries to find and create a smaller or larger circle around him or herself where he or she comes first. And if he cannot do it with his strength, he tries with his weakness. The desire to be important is so inherent in man that, in order to assert himself, to draw attention to himself, he often resorts to illness. One psychologist cites a case in his book where a cheerful, strong girl made herself sick just to get a sense of her importance. That she is the first in this field, that everyone cares about her, jumps around her. Observe how often, for example, in hospital, patients tell each other the details of their illness or the operation they have undergone, in a kind of competition: which of them has suffered more, which of their problems is more interesting. One tells his own problem, the other starts with yours: that's nothing, but when I... They do exactly the same thing as the disciples on the road: they compete to see who is the greater among them. Haven't you ever felt how insufferable people are who talk about their own importance when you want to talk about your importance? We all have a desire to be the centre of attention everywhere, to be the centre of attention, to have the world revolve around us. Of course, it would be nice if it didn't cost too much effort, if it didn't require too much sacrifice. It just comes naturally...
Someone told me that he once spent a week in a small holiday resort and gradually got to know all the guests. He noticed that each one of them, right from the first conversation, tried to make him feel that he was not a nobody, not an insignificant individual! One of them let it be known through his words how wealthy he was, another had a son who was very highly placed in public life, the daughter of a third was an extraordinary person, and the fourth tried to tell him at once how good a friend he was with one of the highest civil servants. Each of them tried to make the other feel something of the not so insignificant, greyish nature of his own person, and the one who said this added that he had caught himself several times in the act of taking part in this game, this rivalry. It almost seems as if we humans are more repulsed by nothing than the appearance of insignificance, than by remaining unnoticed among other people. We try to weave some kind of laurel around our heads, if possible, so that people can see us. We are all by nature tyrants who want to dominate other people in some way. We expect, we morbidly desire, to be acknowledged for our supremacy in some area. We want to dominate, if nothing else, at least one or two people. Well, given our wife or husband, or our official, or our child, or the child's parents. We do our best to be recognized, at least in the narrowest of circles, as being first. That is what life is all about, competing with each other: who is greater?
What does Jesus say to that? He says: "If anyone wants to be first..." (Mk 9,35b) So Jesus is not saying at all that someone should not want to be first. Yes, you should! It is good to want to be first. Jesus does not eradicate the most natural human instinct, nor does he suppress it. But what does he do with it? He ennobles that instinct. Let me illustrate with an example:
The peach of today was once used in ancient Persia to take poison from its seeds for the tips of their arrows. Today's tasty, succulent peaches were therefore once a murderous poison. Today, instead of producing poison, it produces a delicious, nutritious fruit. That's what ennoblement is. In psychology, it's called sublimation. This is what Jesus does with our instincts. He takes away the poison of the old instincts, but the instinct itself, ennobled, remains. The forces of your soul, your instincts, are brought under new control by surrender to Jesus, someone guiding the old instincts towards new goals. Jesus, by taking the raw material of human life into his hands, purifies it, transforms it, ennobles it, and makes it serve different purposes than before.
"If anyone would be first, let him be last of all and servant of all," Jesus goes on to say. In other words: be first, want, yes, want to be first, but now in a different direction than before. Not upwards, towering over others, but downwards, lifting others up. Be first, but not by domination, by bullying, by pushing yourself forward, but by quiet, humble service to others. Only be great, important in this world, among other people, but not in such a way that everyone revolves around you, but in such a way that you can be of use and help to everyone wherever possible! He who wants to be first, let him be last of all. "Last": does not mean that you are clumsy or clumsy. Not last in performance, but last in your own eyes, in your own assertion, in your own needs. Last in this. Last, then, in the way we have often talked about but still haven't quite learned: to reverse the old grammatical rule: first person me, second person you, third person him; first person Him, that is, Jesus, God. He is first of all. The second person is you, that is, the other person, the neighbour, and the third, or last person, is I.
Our relationship with people depends on the proportion of two questions: what I expect from people and what I give to people. In the conduct of the natural man, these two questions are related: I expect everything, I give nothing. I expect to be bowed down to, to have my rights recognized, to be given due respect, to be left alone, not to be hurt, to be served. This is the most selfish attitude. In the conduct of civilized man, the two questions are thus proportionate: I expect from men what I give to them. I also give to all what is due, I demand of others what is due to me. And the Christian man says: I expect nothing, I give. I love those who do not love me. I pray for those who persecute me. He that curses me, I bless. Whoever throws a stone at me, I will throw bread back. I will be good to him who is evil to me. Jesus says: if this is how you treat people, you are the greater. The one who can hit hard is stronger than the one who can love better. He who can kill with more destructive weapons is greater than he who can sacrifice himself for others. Greater power than domination is service, than violence is kindness. Than retribution, forgiveness. More than angry shouting is a soft and gentle word. I heard the other day of a young man who used to get away with pleasing his daughters, that what he has been doing for some time now is sneaking out to the kitchen at night, washing the dishes, cleaning his parents' shoes, so that when they get up everything is in order. He is now on the road to true greatness and firstness.
Since Jesus Himself walked the path of service before us, there has been no lowly service, for since then the light of the Lord's glory has shone on every service. Since then, service is the only truly Christian, the highest way of life. Since then, the true heights of human life have been in the depths of self-denial and service in love: living for others, doing good to them in the name of Christ, sacrificing for them. All around you, people will continue to compete with each other to see who is greater. You now know: it is not the one who bullies, shouts, shows off his power, intimidates others, stamps people out, stabs, exploits those below and above him, but the one who serves with joy and love. Albert Schweitzer, the Nobel Prize-winning organist and physician, wrote in one of his works: 'I am convinced that justice, love, peace, gentleness and goodness are powers which are above all other powers. The world will be theirs if there are enough people who think and live the idea of love, justice and gentleness in the world with sufficient clarity and unceasingness."
All violence is self-limiting, because it gives rise to counter-violence, which sooner or later will prevail. But goodness, if it provokes reciprocal goodness in the other, only strengthens itself. It is therefore the most purposeful and intense force. Our most stupid omission is precisely that we dare not take goodness seriously. There is immense truth in this fantastic saying of Jesus: "Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth." (Mt 5:5)
Jesus Himself came to this earth to serve and give His life for others. We are to be one with Him so that His service may be embodied in us, taking shape in our service. Don't wait for someone else - start it yourself, together with the Lord!
Amen
Date: 7 February 1960.