Who's in Charge Here?

Service on October 20, 2024
by First Baptist Church of Ann Arbor

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“Who's in Charge Here?”

By Rick Mixon

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Entire October 20th Service

By Rick Mixon

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WHO’S IN CHARGE HERE?
It’s an awesome thing to be in charge. At least it is if you take it seriously. Yes, there’s power and glory, prestige and pay-off that comes with being in charge, but it is potentially terrifying. At minimum, the responsibility should give us pause to contemplate whether or not we are really up to the task. Who here has been in charge of something or someone? Am I not correct that, on reflection, it is an awesome thing?
In today’s texts, the lectionary has brought together stories that raise questions of who’s in charge and what that means. The two tales come at the question from different angles but perhaps we can find common ground in how the question is resolved.
When we ask the question, “who’s in charge here?” of Job, we are not necessarily delving into all the deeply troubling ways in which questions of suffering and theodicy are handled (or not handled) in this ancient word. If I were to poll the congregation this morning, I imagine nearly all of us would agree that Job has a legitimate case to make. He was basically minding his own business, taking care of his household, with all its vast resources, while also keeping the faith as he understood it.
“Have you considered my servant Job? There is no one like him on the earth, a blameless and upright man who fears God and turns away from evil,” God asks Satan in front of all the heavenly host.
“Yes, but,” Satan responds, “does Job fear God for nothing? Have you not put a fence around him and his house and all that he has, on every side? You have blessed the work of his hands, and his possessions have increased in the land. But stretch out your hand now, and touch all that he has, and he will curse you to your face” (Job 1:8-12).
And suddenly the game is on, God and Satan playing with Job as the unwitting pawn. Job is laid low. Everything is taken from him – possessions and family and his own health. God may not be the villain in this piece, but he is surely not the hero. With a remarkable show of faith and courage, Job refuses to curse God and die. He continues to try to work out the puzzle, to understand what has happened to him and why. Over and over, he states his case, “Today also my complaint is bitter; his hand is heavy despite my groaning. Oh, that I knew where I might find him, that I might come even to his dwelling! I would lay my case before him, and fill my mouth with arguments. I would learn what he would answer me, and understand what he would say to me. Would he contend with me in the greatness of his power? No; but he would give heed to me. There an upright person could reason with him, and I should be acquitted forever by my judge” (Job 23:2-7).
It’s a pretty persuasive argument, right? One that you or I might be inclined to make if we were in Job’s situation. Job has in mind a system of fairness that ought to work in his favor, if he can just get God to hear his case. Job is not burdened with an excess of pride when he cries out for justice. He never lets go of his belief that God will provide, but he also has a pretty good idea of how God ought to do that. His argument makes sense from the perspective of someone who has been in charge and has garnered a good reputation for how well, how justly, and how rightly he has administered his responsibility. God ought to step up and do the same, right?
Then suddenly the horizon darkens, and a fierce storm arises and Job finds himself face to face with God or at least close enough that the voice of God thunders in his ears. “Then the Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind: ‘Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge? Gird up your loins like a man, I will question you, and you shall declare to me. Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth? Tell me, if you have understanding.’” It’s a pretty intimidating way to begin a conversation and, in fact, it isn’t much of a conversation. God has 123 verses to Job’s 9. In sports terms we’d say it was a rout.
Now you may argue that there is a lot of bluster in God’s response. You may say that God never really answers Job’s questions. You might even contend that God is not very nice to this poor, suffering man. Already victim of every curse and misfortune possible, God seems to add insult to injury through intimidation. If God was human, we would not like him very much and maybe we don’t like this God very much anyway. Where is love and compassion, where is justice and mercy? Surely this is not the whole story.
For today’s purposes, suffice it to say, whether we understand it or not, whether it fits our image of God or not, whether we like this God or not, there is no question as to who is in charge here. Job has cried out over and over for God to come forth and speak with him. For good and ill, God has heard, and God has responded. Be careful what you ask for, though. You, like Job, might be shocked by what you get. There are probably better ways to make the case, but as Isaiah reminds us “…my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the Holy One. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts” (Isaiah 55:8-9). Or as William James claims, God is the “More,” always somewhere beyond our grasp, impossible for us to capture and stuff in a box of our own making. That truth may not always be comfortable or to our liking, but, ultimately, God is in charge here. There is a transcendent being beyond our imagining. “Immortal, invisible, God only wise, in light inaccessible hid from our eyes.”
And whatever you make of God in Job, he does show up and he does engage Job. It may not be much in your view, but somehow it is reassuring to Job. With humility, Job answers, “See, I am of small account; what shall I answer you? I lay my hand on my mouth. I have spoken once, and I will not answer; twice, but will proceed no further” (Job 40:4-5). He has come to some deeper understanding of his relationship to the Holy One, the One in charge, and he accepts the limitations that come with being human. At the end of the conversation, Job says to the Holy One, “I know that you can do all things, and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted…Therefore I have uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me, which I did not know…I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you; therefore I do recant, and I repent in dust and ashes” (Job 42:2-5). And if you don’t like that ending, remember that it is this same Job who, at the depths of his despair, cries out, “I know that my Redeemer lives, and that at the last he will stand upon the earth; and after my skin has been thus destroyed, then in my flesh I shall see God, whom I shall see on my side, and my eyes shall behold, and not another. My heart faints within me!” (Job 19:25-27).
James and John are very human beings of a different order. They have given up everything to follow Jesus. Now they think it’s time to cash in and claim their reward. “Teacher, we have something we want you to do for us.” Or as the New Revised Standard Version puts it, “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.” How many times have we heard a child try that trick? Maybe we’ve done it ourselves. Jesus is instantly wary, “Well, what is it? I’ll see what I can do.”
They have the idea that Jesus is in charge and like the proverbial genie from the bottle, he can give them whatever they want. They’ve decided that they ought to be able to share in Christ’s glory when his time is fulfilled and he’s reigning in heaven. “Let us be in charge of some things. Let us be your right- and left-hand men. Give us some of that glory. We’ve earned it.”
Oh, James and John. Be careful what you ask for. You really don’t get it yet, do you? “You have no idea what you’re asking. Are you capable of drinking the cup I drink, of being baptized in the baptism I’m about to be plunged into?”
“Sure,” they said. “Why not?”
“Are ye able,” said the Master,
“To be crucified with me?”
“Yea,” the sturdy dreamers answered,
“To the death we follow Thee.”
Jesus said, “Come to think of it, you will drink the cup I drink, and be baptized in my baptism. But as to awarding places of honor, that’s not my business. There are other arrangements for that.” Even Jesus is not ultimately in charge, at least not as Mark presents him in his gospel. As with Job, some things are in God’s hands, whether we understand it or not. God is also in charge here and Jesus knows it.
Of course, the other disciples are angry with James and John. Jealousy rears its head and roams among the disciples. I wonder if they’re not less upset with the audacity of James and John than they are with the fact that James and John got to Jesus first. Regardless, Jesus uses the row as one more teaching opportunity. “You’ve observed how godless rulers throw their weight around…and when people get a little power how quickly it goes to their heads. It’s not going to be that way with you. Whoever wants to be great must become a servant. Whoever wants to be first among you must be your slave. That is what the Son of Humanity has done: He came to serve, not to be served—and then to give away his life in exchange for many who are held hostage.”
The lesson is servant leadership. Who’s in charge here? God is. Even Christ has come to serve God’s purposes. Disciples are invited to share in that great work. They will eventually get what Jesus was all about and rise to the occasion, and like Jesus, James, John and most of the others will give their lives in service.
Theodore Jennings tells us that “It is the counter-culture of servant-hood that enacts or demonstrates the freedom from domination and division for which a suffering humanity yearns. And it is the same counter-culture, which by its vulnerability, defenselessness, and death becomes, with Jesus, the ransom payment that sets humanity free from the structures of injustice and avarice. In this sense, the community is the sacrificial salt that redeems the world” (Theodore W. Jennings, Jr., The Insurrection of the Crucified: The “Gospel of Mark” as Theological Manifesto, p 173). Whoever wants to be great must become a servant.
Let me close with this prayer poem from Steve Garnaas-Holmes:
TO SIT AT YOUR RIGHT HAND

They said to him,
“Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left,
in your glory.”
—Mark 10.37

Oh, James and John, you impudent, arrogant fools!
How blatant—your vanity, your selfishness!

Yep. And I confess, I’m right there with you.
I assume I belong in the inner circle,
in a privileged place, and feel wronged if I’m not.
Straight white Christian male—surely I’m in.
(Christian nationalism, white supremacy…
I’m not that far removed, am I?)

Placing myself at the center of the world,
I wound the world.
Seeking priority, I violate our oneness.

God, give me the heart to repent
of my self-centeredness, my entitlement.
Give me the humility to see you
in those I want to outclass.
Give me compassion to outweigh my ego.
Give me courage to trust your grace,
not my deserving.
Give me faith to know
the last and the least and the lost are loved,
and the wisdom to know myself among them. Amen.