Sermon: Healing Abundance

Mark 9:30-37
Let’s try to imagine these scenarios:

A student enters her classroom, drops her book-filled backpack to the ground, sits in her seat, and lets out a heavy sigh. Here she sits again in a class that seems to have become her college nemesis. These last few weeks have been so frustrating. It seems like no matter how many hours she puts in, no matter how many hours of sleep she loses, and no matter how hard she tries, the grades in this class just don’t seem to show for it. She has too much riding on this. Her reputation of being smart is riding on this. And it feels like her future is riding on this! Her family has expectations, and she has expectations of her own – dreams of her own. And if she can’t make it through this, how’s she ever going to get to that dream? How’s she ever make it into that graduate school?

But she takes stock and re-evaluates. She’s as scared as she can be, but she tells herself this: “Alright, you’ve just got to face it. It’s a dog-eat-dog world out there, and not everyone is going to make it. You have to do all you can to beat out the others. You have to do all you can to be the best.” She recommits herself to pushing too hard. She recommits herself to losing many more hours of sleep. It’s just a class, but in her mind, those options for a fulfilling career feel very scarce. She feels like her very identity is on the line.


Here he is sitting home alone again in his dorm on a Friday night. There’s nothing wrong with a night at home, but this time, he’s home alone feeling defeated. All semester he’s been working up the courage to spend some time in the lounge on the floor of his dorm. It seems like the entire floor of new students has had no trouble making friends. They just seem so close. And even though everyone goes their separate ways on Saturdays to work on homework, go out with friends, or revel in the football games, most evenings – including Friday evenings - the students on the 3rd floor end up with some sort of gathering. He thinks, “It’s so easy for them. . .” and wonders, “Why’s it so hard for me?” He finally got up the courage to be there last night. But after some awkward jokes and some attempts to tell a few stories, he just felt horribly out of place. One girl was really nice to him and invited him back on Friday for movie night. He thought he might go, but at the last minute, he backed out. He thought, “I’m not funny like the others, and I’ll really make a fool of myself.” It’s just a movie night, but in his mind, opportunities for making friends feel very scarce. He feels like his identity is on the line.


She’s a very abrasive person. Everyone knows it, and the truth is, it’s gotten her somewhere. She’s one of the head writers for the university newspaper, and she has a reputation. “So if they have a problem with it, they can just deal with it. I don’t care.” She’s tired of reading the garbage that the new editor lets into the paper. She has the wittiest, comedic voice at the paper. She’s the best and she knows it. So why is that editor letting this new, good-for-nothing girl have a satire column, when she can’t write even one good sentence? She let the editor know what she thought, and he had the nerve to ask, “What? You feel threatened?” Threatened. . . “Oh, you better watch your words, high-and-mighty editor. . .” She plans all the ways she can sabotage this new girl. After all, she can use that wit and abrasiveness to her advantage. . . It’s just a column, but in her mind, praise feels very scarce. She feels like her identity is on the line.

And so who knows what a ragtag group of fishermen disciples were thinking as they traveled by foot from one place to another – while they were on the road taking stock of one another, while they were wondering who is the greatest. I wonder what sort of criteria they were using. “Well, I’m the oldest.” “But I’m the smartest.” “I’m the closest to Jesus.” “But I’ve performed the most healings.” “I gave up the most to follow.” “Well, I’ve made the best decisions.” “Jesus listens to me the most.” “I pray the best.” “I’m the strongest.” “I’ve got contacts with the people who matter.” “If I put one hand behind my back, I could catch more fish than any of you combined!” Who knows what they were thinking, but it probably went from bad to worse to absurd.

What was going on there? And what’s going on with the three of the scenarios we’ve imagined tonight? Certainly, in every case, people are sizing themselves up against others. As she longs to get into grad school, how will our first student make herself greater than the others? As he struggles to meet new friends, how will our second student continue to assume that others are greater than him? And as our third student deals with feeling threatened by a new writer, how can she sabotage her rival, make sure that she comes out on top, and prove that she really is the greatest? All of those situations seem to revolve around greatness, but really, at the crux of it all, they’re all based on insecurity. These students may decide to take different actions, but all of them are dealing with their own inner insecurities. It makes me wonder if the disciples were dealing with their own on that road. . .

So where do insecurities come from anyway? We all have them. I have them. You have them. We all have them. How do they function? Where do they originate? I’m sure if we were to make a big list of answers to those questions, we’d come up with a lot of ideas: We’re insecure when we don’t trust our gifts and abilities. We’re insecure when we assume others have more worth than we do. We’re insecure when we think others might reject us. We’re insecure when we wonder if success is beyond our reach.

But perhaps behind it all, this theme emerges: We’re insecure when we live and see the world through a lens of scarcity. We’re insecure when we assume there isn’t enough in this world to go around. We’re afraid that we’ll lose what we have, and we’re afraid that we’ll never live fully if we don’t work to gain a part of the small amount out there. And one of the sad consequences of this kind of thinking is that we begin to quantify experiences and realities that aren’t really quantifiable. We begin to assume that there isn’t enough love. We begin to assume that there isn’t enough respect. We begin to assume that there isn’t enough room for us to be ourselves. And so we start to do anything and everything to grasp at what we can. And this definitely means we will fight, compete, size ourselves up, and constantly ask, “Who is the greatest? Who has the most love? Who has the most respect? Who has the most room to be himself? And what can I do to get it?” In effect, we become very insecure. We assume that we’ll lose out on realities that involve real human needs – realities that were made for our true security.

We never take a step back and open our eyes enough to realize that love, respect, uniqueness, companionship, and moments for true living are abundant. They aren’t scarce resources. God has made our world full of them. They aren’t quantifiable. And they aren’t really resources at all! We can’t possess them or hoard them. They’re abundant! They’re for our experiencing and for our sharing. This is a world full of abundance. After all, Jesus says, “I have come that they might have life and have it abundantly.” Why then do we choose to live in a false perception of scarcity?

Most of you know that I spent three years as a student at Austin Seminary here in town. I remember once that a professor said, “You know, it seems like most seminary students come here, have one major theological aha, and then they shift the rest of their theological understanding to make room for that aha.” I think that professor is probably right. That was my experience. My big aha in seminary happened during my first year. During class, a different professor, asked a question: “What does it mean to be human?” And the class gave a variety of answers that she wrote all over the blackboard. I knew there were many aspects to being human, but at that time, if I had to narrow it down to one aspect, the answer was easy for me. I would have said, “To be human, is to sin.” I equated humanity with sinfulness.

There is some truth in that after all. We’ve all made mistakes, and we’ve all wronged others. Sin seems to be a common denominator that unites each human being. But Cindy said something I’ve never quite forgotten. It was my seminary aha. She said, “If we equate humanity and sinfulness and our tradition states that Jesus didn’t sin, how can he be human then?” Oh. That was a new and different thought for me.

She went on to talk about humanity and sinfulness in completely different ways. She said, “Jesus isn’t less human because he didn’t sin. He’s the True Human because he didn’t sin. All along, God has created us for something different than sin. We do sin. We find ourselves caught in it, but when we do that, we aren’t being our truest selves. In fact, every time we sin, we’re turning away from our truest selves – away from the people God created us to be.” Sometimes we turn this in this direction – in a prideful direction -- thinking that we are greater and more powerful than we really are. We say, “Look at me everybody! I’m the best thing there every was!” And sometimes we turn in the other direction. We self-deprecate. We say, “Oh, I’m just a nobody. I’m not worth anything. I’ll never amount to anything.” Well, that’s not who we are either! We are God’s beloved children, and we’re called to be our truest selves. We miss the mark when we exert our pride, and we miss the mark when we deny the truth of how valuable we are to God.

Can we see how pride and self-deprecation often come out of a mindset of scarcity? Can we see how this always causes us to ask, “Who’s the greatest?” If there is only so much love, respect, uniqueness, companionship, and moments of true living for some, we are either going to inflate ourselves to get what we deserve (after all, we’re the greatest) or we’re going to deflate – assuming that these abundant gifts aren’t for us but only for those who deserve them more – those who are much greater than ourselves.

When we come to see that this world isn’t defined by scarcity but considerable abundance, we can move beyond our insecurities and live abundantly ourselves, as the human beings God created in love.

So what does Jesus have to say about this squabble of the disciples? How does he react to their question, “Who is the greatest?” He puts a child in front of them – a simple but beloved child – who knows how to live in abundance and trust. Children tend to think that way until they are taught the opposite. But at the same time, children are vulnerable – and they would certainly be numbered among the last in their society in terms of power and influence. Jesus tells his disciples, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.”

Last of all. . . Last of all like a child. . . Last. . . Well maybe Jesus isn’t talking about order here. Otherwise, we would just try to earn greatness in the exact same way we always have – by getting at the end of the line and then assuming we’re better than the ones in the front. Last isn’t literally about order. Instead about orientation. It’s about turning toward those people who are considered “last” and the “least of these” and learning from them. It’s about sharing abundance with them. There’s enough for all – so we shouldn’t hoard and fight. We should receive and share.

I love that the Greek word for “last” in this passage – eschatos -- is the same word used for the “last things” when the scriptures talk about the eschaton, a theological concept that describes the fullness and final reality of God transforming this world into the way it should be, the way it is intended to be. When we turn toward those who are considered “last” and live in true abundance with them, we are living into the reality of God’s intention for us – not just for the finality of time but for now in this present moment.

And what else will happen when we come to live and share in abundance rather than scarcity? What would happen if we sought healing for our own securities? Think about it: It wouldn’t only heal us. How much the world might be healed along with us? Who is bound up in your healing? Who heals alongside you when you are healed? Of course, the healing of insecurities is a process that continues throughout our lives. We often take two steps forward to take one step back. But what if we were intentional about our own wounds and insecurities? Perhaps we wouldn’t have to revert back to our own sinful habits – habits of excessive pride, habits of self-deprecation. Maybe we would lash out at others much less. Maybe we would stop assuming that we’re incapable of receiving love and giving love. I wonder, what would happen?

I love that the word ‘heal’ is both passive and active at the same time. It’s passive – Heal! –as in be healed. And it’s active – Heal! – as in be a healer. Perhaps when we open ourselves to the work of the Holy Spirit, both are connected. When you are healed, who might you heal? May God heal you and set you in orientation toward the last – that you may be healed and be healers among them. Amen.

-Renee Roederer, Campus Minister