I received a call from my Father about three months ago that Unc had joined the great cloud of witnesses. I was unable to attend the funeral. I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye. So if it’s OK with you, I want to give this sermon in that spirit, as my way of saying thank you to a great man.
Come with me to 1979. Oak Harbor Washington.
I am five years old. And I see him. He’s got a grey suit on. He’s bald. He got a tupperware bowl full of vanilla cookies. I know him only as “the cookie man”. I ask if I can get a cookie. “Of course…” he says.
It’s 1984 and I’m ten years old. And I see him. He’s got a grey suit on. He’s bald. He’s got a tupperware bowl full of vanilla cookies. It’s the cookie man.
It’s 1990. I’m 16 and too cool to care. Pimples on my face. I see him in the foyer. He’s got on a grey suit. Bald. He’s got a bucket of cookies. I’m not cool enough not to want my cookie.
It’s 2008. I’m thirty-four. Home to see my parents. I see him. He’s wearing a grey suit. He’s bald. He’s moving slowly. He’s carrying a tupperware full of vanilla cookies. All the children run to him. He gives everyone a cookie. I stand in line. When it’s my turn, he sees me and grins.
As long as I kept coming to church, Unc, “The Cookie Man”, gave me my cookie. His real name was John Rientjes. But his friends called him Unc. And since everyone was Unc’s friend, that’s what everyone called him. He was our Unc.
Unc drove a backhoe most of his life, was an Army veteran, sang in the church choir, sat on the church consistory, was our cookie man, and was the man that made the church worth attending for generations of kids. I was one of them. We loved him. How could you not? He wore a funny hat and didn’t say very much. But didn’t have too. He loved to sing hymns, particularly “When the Roll is Called up Yonder”, and we loved to sing them because we knew he loved to sing them. When there was a problem in the church, he is the one people naturally went to for wisdom. When a decision had to be made, you went to get Unc’s blessing. He was not the richest man in town, but I didn’t know anyone who was wealthier.
I remember when I brought my beloved Kristen home for the first time. People of the church would gather at The Daily Grind for coffee every day at 10:00am. Kristen had to meet the family. In classic dutch custom, the men sat on one end and the women at the other. Both groups seemed to prefer it this way. At the head of the table was Unc. Kristen went to sit by him. After ten minutes or so of talking to Kristen, Unc called me over. “Tryg, she can come back. But if you don’t bring her back with you, you can’t.” Then he smiled and then laughed. I took his advice and married the girl. He was a wise man.
His pastor, my good friend Jon Brown, wrote this about Unc’s legacy:
“When Unc died earlier this spring, the ceiling of the church sanctuary sagged some. We don’t have a choice but to leave the sagging ceiling, nor do we really want to fix it. It’s our reminder: Unc was like a pillar to this 105 year-old community… He was a great man. We’re going to leave the sag in the sanctuary ceiling, not that we could do anything about it anyway, but it’s a reminder of a pillar we call Unc who held up our community of faith with his life and faith. Who will take his place?”
Jon’s words were true. Unc was a great man. When I think of Unc now, I don’t think of cookies, or the hat, or his quiet ways – I think of greatness. I think… this is the kind of man I want to be. Honest. Wise. Faithful. Someone children run up to see.
What kills me is that growing up I didn’t understand this. What I didn’t realize all those years growing up is that Unc lived a greatness disguised.
The Greatest Generation
Of course Unc’s story is a mirror to a larger generational story. Tom Brockaw has described Unc’s generation as The Greatest Generation. The greatest generation learned resourcefulness in adversity early – the Depression – and then they went to war against two of the greatest military machines ever created. They won the war, they saved their enemies (through the Marshall Plan, etc.), and they came home to recreate America – its communities, roads, businesses, government, arts, and sciences. And they never complained, and they never told their stories. Broakaw believes this is because in a deep sense they didn’t think that what they were doing was that special because everyone was doing it too. This is a generation that lived the values of honesty, integrity, and personal and civic responsibilities. Theirs, suggests Brokaw, was greatness disguised because it was a greatness focused on the other – their families, their communities, their faith. They were our quiet custodians of society, but we took them for granted because they never called attention to themselves. Shame on us for not saying thank you. I would be remiss this morning if we didn’t say thank you. If you are part of that generation would you please stand so that we can say thank you?
With Unc gone, I wonder with Jon, who will take his place? But as I think of it, the question is not necessarily who, but how? Will our life be about ourselves, or about something larger? Will it be great?
But this question raises another question: What is greatness? Who defines it? How do we pursue it? How do we know if we attain it? I think that question is one of the most important we will answer.
For some, the drive to greatness is deep in us, like an ache in the soul. Or it’s a daily compulsive itch – irritating and constant – that whispers There is more than this… we were intended to be more than this… to be something… do something significant. That drive can become compulsive. If not checked, it can take over. It can make a good man go bad, and I think it can make a bad man go good.
Narrative
Where do we learn greatness? Who is our model? To learn true greatness we have no better teacher than Jesus.
Jesus and the disciples – his band of brothers – are on the way to Jerusalem. Along the way, Jesus keeps telling them what is going to happen. He doesn’t want anyone to know. He says he is going to be betrayed into human hands, that he is going to be killed, and then three days later, will rise again.
But the disciples are thick and dense – they didn’t get it. Jesus’ death did not compute. They are heading to Jerusalem with Jesus. It’s the fourth quarter and it’s first and goal. This is the time when Jesus is going to be revealed as the long awaited Messiah. Jesus is going to take over the political reigns, destroy and remove the Roman puppet governor, and claim himself King of Israel. He is going to put the world to rights and restore the covenant people of God to their rightful place. Jesus is going to be a King. And the disciples are going to be marching rank and file right behind him. I can’t help but think they were imagining the glory, the privileges, and the greatness that would come their way of being part of the new King’s inner circle. As the time for Jesus’ greatness came closer, these insiders were going to be along for the glory ride. After three years of tromping around Palestine, after three years of not having a place to call home, after three years of teaching, testing, and traveling, they now were going to get their just reward.
I wonder who spoke up first. Maybe one of them was a little proud – had a little cockiness in the tone? Maybe it was Peter who assumed his position with Jesus was a little closer than the others? Someone, maybe Thomas, put him in his place. I don’t know. However, it happened, an argument broke out on the way about “who is the greatest”.
“Who’s the greatest?” They argued. When Jesus takes over, who’s going to be sitting at his right hand? Who’s the best? Who is going to be in charge?
But that night, they sit down to eat, and Jesus asks his band of brothers a question. He simply asks, with a knowing tone, “What were you all arguing about on the way?”
Silence. I imagine them looking down at the ground: Pride. Ambition. Vanity. Exposed.
Jesus must have already known the answer to his question. Because he goes on to teach them. He said to these proud, ambitious, vain disciples – those who were going out to change the world, to be a new kind of humanity in his name – this simple lesson:
“who ever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” (Mark 9:35)
“Whoever…
Who ever wants to be…
Wants to be first…
Must be last…
Last of all…
And…
servant of all…
Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all. (Mark 10:35)
In a single sentence, Jesus redefines the proper ambition for the people of God. In a single moment, he turns the world’s definition of greatness on its head. In a second, the disciples have a new rule to measure their greatness: the rule of love.
Genius.
Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all. This is brilliant. It’s genius, really.
i.
First, this teaching is genius because Jesus doesn’t cut the nerve of the desire to be great. He simply redefines what it is.
Sometimes as Christians I think we are too suspicious of those who want to be great. This suspicion is not always misplaced. Ambition can expose something selfish. But God given aspirations are not necessarily a bad thing. For example, I think that a desire for greatness is actually God-given. But like anything in a fallen world, aspirations can get twisted. We deceive ourselves of our actual motivations. In a fallen world, good things, God-given gifts and desires – like sex, money, or even love – are twisted and distorted into something they were never meant to be. Augustine talks about sin as one’s desire curving in on itself. This is true of our ambition for greatness. The desire for greatness can be God-given, but in a fallen world it can twist into something that seeks personal glory or selfish fulfillments.
But it is interesting to note that Jesus does not chastise the disciples for wanting to be great. He doesn’t run them down for having the instinct. Instead he calls for them to reframe this instinct towards serving others. Jesus simply redefines their distorted pictures If you want to be great, live for another, put another first, be willing to be last.
Our problem is not our desire to be great. Our problem is we often have the wrong picture of what greatness looks like. I like how C.S. Lewis describes this in his sermon The Weight of Glory:
“…The New Testament has lots to say about self-denial, but not about self-denial as an end itself. We are told to deny ourselves and take up our crosses in order that we may follow Christ; and… nearly every description of what we shall ultimately find if we do so contains an appeal of desire… Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promise of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.”
C.S. Lewis argues that our offense is not that “God finds our ambitions too strong, but they are too weak.” Greatness is not about who is number one or who is in power or who is signing the checks. Jesus warns in another gospel that the greatest lord it over them. But the greatness of those who follow Jesus’ way is always a greatness achieved by giving themselves away.
The brilliance of Jesus is that the greatest is the servant. It is the one who is not looking to his own welfare but to that of another. The greatest is the one who is willing to subject personal glory for the glory of a friend, a family, a team, and above all, for God.
To put others before himself, and to be willing to be last, is our new picture of greatness. This is the greatness that Unc lived.
ii.
Second, Jesus’ words on greatness are genius because everyone can be great.
If greatness is defined by who wins a contest – only one person per contest can be great. But, if greatness is about serving those in the contest, everyone can do it. Jesus does not abolish the desire to be great – he simply expands on it – and has a vision where no matter who you are – no matter how old or how young, no matter what color, or race, or gender, or shape or size – we can all be great.
This is the genius of Jesus’ teaching: everyone can be great… no matter what role you play on the team or in the community. You can be great. It’s not one person who gets to be great. It is not working harder to reach the top, it is working harder to improve how you serve others. You need to serve each other.
This is the greatest opportunity every single day. Each day, and each moment in the day, is a chance to practice greatness. It is an opportunity to form a culture of greatness in your home, marriage, friendships, church, community. You have the power through the Holy Spirit to shape this kind of culture. This is a culture where we are willing to serve so others can be first, a culture that is willing to put another’s welfare before our own, a culture that will show people a new picture of greatness. What would it look like if we all pursued this call to greatness together?
iii.
That leads to the third reason I think this teaching is genius: there is not one way to practice greatness. There are as many ways to be great as there are grains of sand on the lakeshore. Every day, every moment, provides us opportunities to serve, to put others before us, to give, to sacrifice, to love. The only limit of possibility is the limit of our imagination.
For some of you it may be how you fix a meal, or clean the house, or encourage a co-worker, or bring cookies to kids at church. There are millions of ways to be great.
I love the story of Chaim Potok. He tells of wanting to be a writer from an early age, but when he went to college his mother took him aside and said, “Chaim, I know you want to be a writer, but I have a better idea. Why don’t you be a brain surgeon. You’ll keep a lot of people from dying; you’ll make a lot of money.” Chaim replied, “No Mama. I want to be a writer.”
He returned home for vacation, and his mother got him off alone. “Chaim, I know you want to be a writer, but listen to your mama. Be a brain surgeon. You’ll keep a lot of people from dying; you’ll make a lot of money.” Each time Chaim replied, “No, mama, I want to be a writer.”
This conversation was repeated every vacation break, every summer, every meeting: “Chaim, I know you want to be a writer, but listen to your mama. Be a brain surgeon. You’ll keep a lot of people from dying; you’ll make a lot of money.” Chaim replied, “No Mama, I want to be a writer.”
Over time, the exchanges accumulated. The pressure intensified. Finally, there was an explosion. “Chaim, you’re wasting your time. Be a brain surgeon. You’ll keep a lot of people from dying; you’ll make a lot of money.” The explosion detonated a counter explosion: “Mama, I don’t want to keep people from dying; I want to show them how to live!”
“I want to show you how to live!” I love this instinct. The Christian’s ambition is not just to merely prepare people for death, it is to show them how to live.
His mother wants him to make a lot of money. Have a job with status. Keep people from dying. It’s a win-win vocation. But for Potock, there is a different ambition. He wants “to show them how to live.” Ambitious? Yes. Maybe a little proud? Yes. But there is something in him that is not settled, that wants to live his life in a way that shows life. He wants to use his life and his gifts in such a way that it shows people how to live, not just give advice and treatment to deter death. I love the ambition.
Greatness has something to do with how we live…
We need to use our imaginations to practice greatness. As an athlete I would lie back in my bed and practice a pitch. See the situation. See myself doing it. I think we need to practice visualizing greatness in our marriage, at work, with those who drive us crazy, in worship, in friendships, in our politics, in how we use our money and gifts. Let’s use our imagination to practice greatness, and then let that practice begin to find ways to serve others in our community who need to be put first. How can we do this together?
Called to Greatness
I believe this, and because I believe it, I want to say it with conviction to you. We who follow Jesus are called to be great. No exceptions. Each of us is called to this kind of life where, like Unc, we were a greatness disguised.
We each are called to practice greatness every day. I believe there has never been a more important season for us to practice a greatness disguised. A greatness that is willing to sacrifice greatly on behalf of others. Let’s raise our children with that motivation – let’s be the Church with that ambition. Let us seek the greatness of Christ where personal glory is sacrificed at the altar of our communion table.
We make decisions everyday. Everyday you are making choices. They are yours. I want to ask you to make decisions to be great. Start being great husbands, start being great mothers, start being great teachers and lawyers and coaches; whatever you do, pursue a greatness disguised, starting right now. It is in you to be great.
What is so beautiful about the Christian life is that the God we come to worship did not just talk about it – this God lived it. Jesus walked the walk. By taking time to put on flesh and walk among us, Jesus – the Son of God – practiced a greatness disguised. His greatness – dare I say, his glory – though hidden, opened up the way of salvation for all of us.
Through his sacrifice – the giving of his divine and human blood on the cross – my sin, your sin, and the sin of the world has been forgiven.
Jesus Christ gave up all this power to turn power on its head.
Jesus Christ did for us what we cannot do ourselves.
He gives his life for us.
He calls us now, to give our life for others.
This is a life of salvation.
This is the greatness disguised –
And it is the greatness of Christ.
And I can’t help but wonder if this is the greatness
that made Unc so wise.
Amen.
Sermon given at a Sunday service at Camp Geneva along the lakeshore of Holland, MI.