From Hallelujah to Hello - September 20, 2015

Mark 9:30-37

George Friederich Handel's Hallelujah Chorus is the climax of the Messiah, though it actually comes about two thirds of the way into it and not at the end. The glory of that chorus epitomizes for many of us what Messiah means: King of Kings, and Lord of Lords, and he will reign forever and ever. It is surely one of the most popular pieces of classical music ever written. Many people make attendance at a performance of Messiah a regular part of their Christmas celebration.
Ask the average person what Messiah means and I suspect s/he will answer in Handel's words: "King of Kings and Lord of Lords." Messiah means beauty and glory and honor. Right?
Last week in our Gospel reading Jesus asked his disciples, "Who do you say that I am?" And Peter answered "You are the Messiah." Jesus responded by predicting that he would undergo great suffering and be killed. Not exactly the king of kings and lord of lords.

In today's reading, Jesus and the disciples are traveling through Galilee. There's a surprising line: "He did not want anyone to know it." Jesus is the Secret Messiah, hidden from the world. So much for gathering in a flash mob performance of the Hallelujah Chorus. It seems, well, odd.
Then for the second time Jesus offers a dire prediction: "The Son of Man is to be betrayed into human hands, and they will kill him, and three days after being killed, he will rise again." Same song, second verse, only this is not the Hallelujah chorus. Mark tells us, "But they did not understand what he was saying and were afraid to ask him."
Though Handel did not write the Hallelujah Chorus until 17 centuries later, the disciples thought of Messiah in Hallelujah terms. Along with most people of their day they looked for a Messiah who would be a political and military leader. The Messiah was to defeat the Romans who oppressed them. The Messiah was to rise victorious. Yet twice now Jesus has told them that as the Messiah he will be defeated, that he will suffer and die. His logic did not add up for them. They wanted to sing the Hallelujah Chorus and Jesus was singing a dirge. Of course, when Handel did write The Messiah, he included all sorts of songs about Jesus' suffering. The full score of The Messiah has more in it suitable for Lent, passages like "Surely he has borne our griefs" – than it does the parts we sing before Christmas. But the disciples didn't get it and that may well be why Jesus wanted to stay out of the limelight. He knew that when people thought of a Messiah they would look for a conqueror, and that's not who he was.
As further evidence of just how dense they were, the disciples proceeded to argue with each other over which of them was the greatest, like children arguing over who gets to be in the front of the line. The one thing to their credit is that they were at least embarrassed enough over their squabble that when Jesus asked them about it they were silent and tried to keep from him the topic of their argument. It was yet further proof that they did not get it. They still wanted to sing Hallelujah.
One of my seminary professors used to talk about the dumbkopf disciples, the dummies. Jesus was no dummy, however. He knew why they were arguing. He sat them down and said, "Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all." No squabbling to be first in line. Stand at the back, Jesus said, take the broken piece of cookie and the carrot sticks left at coffee hour after the other kids have gone through like a swarm of locusts.
Then Jesus took a child in his arms and said, "Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me."
We here at First United Methodist Church know all about welcoming children. This was the Summer of the Babies: Eva, Cormac, Kyra, Kadence, Harrision, and Cordelia, all born between June 2 and September 6. What a joy it has been to welcome these precious children. My thanks to those who took meals in to the families as they brought home their new daughters and sons. To help welcome these babies we've put rocking chairs in the chapel area in the back of the sanctuary so that parents can take their infants back there when they need a little space and a place to soothe a fussy child.
Welcoming babies is not all a matter of gushing over adorable little ones. Parent most of all know that babies are also about sleepless nights and diaper explosions. When parents apologize to me for a child's noise during worship I tell them, "I'd rather have distractions in worship and have children than have no distractions and no children." And that's pretty much the choice. Children are a lot of work and if our church wants to welcome children we need volunteers in the nursery, at Activity Time, Sunday School teachers, and the dollars to invest in curriculum and supplies.
"Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me." When Jesus talked about welcoming children he meant more than cute and cuddly babies or even rambunctious kids running at coffee hour. The Greek word for child in this passage is paidon. We usually translate it as little child. What we miss in English is that paidon is closely related to pais which means servant, or one who waits on others. A servant might be a waiter who brings food to others and eats last of all, getting the scrapings from the pan. There was no glory, no honor, in servanthood.
Servants, and children, were people of low status in Jesus' day. They were the last, not the first. And Jesus says that to welcome the last ones, the least ones, the lowest ones, is to welcome him. You see, our job as followers of The Messiah, is not so much about singing The Hallelujah Chorus as it is about saying "Hello" to the little ones of our society.
And who are the little ones? Think of people who have no honor or glory. It's not so much about our precious babies as it is the poor; the panhandler on the corner whom I cross the street to avoid; the undocumented immigrant who scrapes by on low paying jobs no one else will do; the people who swallow their pride to stand in line at the food bank for a sack of groceries to tide them over at the end of the month. They are the refugees fleeing violence in Syria and flooding Europe with their need.
To welcome Jesus means to say hello to these little ones, the people I often see past.
Last month I attended The School of Congregational Development in Indianapolis. I learned a couple of stories which have stayed with me. Romal Tune grew up with no father and a mother whose addictions meant she had little ability to parent a child. He was often hungry and alone. He told us how he had to beg for money to get home from school. People saw past him, ignoring a troubled child. "Worse than being lost is if no one notices you," he said. Blessedly, for him, there were just enough people who said hello to him, who took the time to notice him, that he survived. He served our country in the army, he graduated from school and went on to go to college and even seminary. He has had a difficult journey and at the crossroads of redemption and grace he has found healing. In saying hello to a frightened and lost little boy people welcomed Jesus.
Another story came from DeAmon and Rachel, both part of an inner city church in Indianapolis. They had the usual ministries to their neighborhood, such as a food bank. Like most food banks the people who came had to answer a variety of questions that basically asked how poor they were. They began to wonder if there was another way. So they redesigned the form to ask what gifts people had. One woman noted she was a good cook. So they decided to check her out. They invited her to prepare a meal for their staff. It was delicious. So they recommended her for other catering jobs. Eventually she was able to open her own business. Instead of just getting a sack of food for a few days she gained a job. That happened because they learned to say hello to her as an individual, to welcome her, and in so doing, they said hello to Jesus.
It turns out that to follow Jesus the Messiah calls us to radical servant ministry which recognizes the humanity of those in need. By all means, let us sing Hallelujah to our Messiah. First of all, however, let us say hello to the little ones.