Set Free: "Destined For Greatness"

Cape Elizabeth Church of the Nazarene

Texts: Romans 8:24-30
Date: Good Friday, March 29, 2002
Author: Rev. Jeffrey T. Barker

“I’m the greatest!” Those were Mohammad Ali’s famous words. “I float like a butterfly. I sting like a bee. I am the greatest!” Indeed many suggest that Ali was the greatest boxer of all time. And we love to see greatness! People go in droves to see Michael Jordan play basketball. Millions of people line streets to see Super Bowl champions! Enamored with the famous, the powerful, the rich, the great, we are willing to do almost anything to witness greatness!

The rabbis and teachers of the Torah are sitting around the temple after the busyness of the Passover Festival. A young boy (12 years old to be precise) wanders into the temple and begins inquiring around. After the three days in the temple, the rabbis and spiritual leaders had to believe they had found a young aspiring rabbi. Their hopes peaked. They probably said things like “you’re going to be a great rabbi!” “You’re going to be great -- you can relate well with children and seniors.” “God has really blessed you. You’re going to be great! People will revere your name.” “You’ll have a large following. Attendance in the synagogue will increase. We will finally be able to build that great kingdom of which we’ve always dreamed! You’re just what we need -- a young charismatic leader!”

We love to be the in presence of greatness. A child prodigy -- whether on the piano or at the chess table -- captivates us. A powerful image -- whether the Sistine chapel or a breathtaking landscape -- enraptures us. A powerful preacher -- whether the long winded Jonathon Edwards or the eloquent Martin Luther King -- paralyzes us. In the presence of greatness our chins drop agape. In the presence of greatness we begin believing the impossible.

When Martin Luther King spoke we believed racism could be overcome. When a breathtaking landscape is visualized we believe the created order will supersede capitalist endeavors. When a child plays flawlessly our hope in the future is renewed. Greatness is powerful. Greatness is beautiful. Greatness is captivating. That’s why we’re willing to pay money to witness greatness.

In fact, just five days ago we heard masses of people -- large crowds that lined the street -- paying tribute to greatness. Words like “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest heaven!” (Matthew 21:9) flowed from the lips of the roadside bystanders the day Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a donkey. The people came out in droves to witness greatness. This Jesus character had turned water into wine. This Jesus character took five loaves and two fish and fed five thousand persons. This Jesus character gave the blind sight, healed the sick, made the lame walk. This Jesus character raised his friend Lazarus from the dead! Greatness is magnetic. We all want to witness greatness!

Deep down inside each of us is the desire to be great; to be important; to be of value. And, typically, we look around and measure ourselves against one another. Growing up, my measuring stick was my younger brother. Being only 13 months apart in age breed a minor level of competition. Someone was always going to be “the greatest -- the champion of the world.” It didn’t matter if it was the wiffle ball World Series in the backyard or the summer ‘reading is fun’ library contest, at dinner time a argument was sure to erupt. “I am the greatest!” I would proclaim my “greatness” and the argument began.

Jesus found his own disciples arguing about which of them was the greatest! Drawing contextual evidence from each of the gospels leaves one with the impression that they were attempting to decide who would take over after their leader departed for in each context Jesus has just spoken about his death. Who has the best credentials? Matthew the accountant? Peter the outspoken? James and John the fishermen? I bet when they were arguing about who was the greatest they began believing themselves!

Your boss congratulates you on a fine presentation -- “That was great! You had them eating out the palm of your hand!” . . . and you begin believing! A parishioner leaving after the Sunday service says, “that was a great sermon!”. . . and you begin believing. Your name appears in the newspaper and you begin believing!

And when you actually begin believing that you’re great . . . you begin relying on your own strength. You begin trusting in your own wisdom. You begin living in your own power.

See the problem?

That’s why I like Palm Sunday! It is more conducive to my way of living. Accolades. Honors. Awards. Citations. Trophies. Medals. Distinction. Glory. Palm Sunday is more comfortable than Good Friday. If we stretch Palm Sunday we can justify having our names adorn building, being remembered forever! A fitting tribute to greatness! (It may be just a little too arrogant to believe a church could be named after me (or you). Barker Memorial Church doesn’t seem right, but a room, a library, an annex, a fellowship hall? Maybe, just maybe. It would be a fitting tribute to greatness!) But then . . . Good Friday comes and greatness is redefined.

Just when I’m ready to salute myself and my greatness, the image of Christ -- holy, perfect, blameless -- flashes in front of me and I’m confronted with true greatness. “All have sinned and fall short of [the doxa] the glory of God!” Paul writes. When Jesus caught his disciples arguing he told them: “Truly, unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever becomes humble like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 18:3-4). But it’s hard to be humble when you’re great, isn’t it? Jesus says, “Whoever becomes humble. . .”

“Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death -- even death on a cross” (Philippians 2:5-8).

Whoever becomes humble. . . is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. Whoever becomes humble. . . to the point of death -- even death on a cross!

Our Romans text reminds us that we are destined to look like Jesus the Christ; that we are destined to be conformed to his image. In fact, Paul tells the church at Rome (and us) that God has chosen us to look like him when he writes “For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son”. But the greatness personified in Jesus is not a high-handed manifest destiny arrogance that overruns and conquers. Rather, the greatness personified in Jesus is a complete draining of oneself; a self-emptying to the point of nothing, so that we can be filled with the very Spirit of Christ -- all to God’s greater glory!

You see. . . true greatness never salutes itself. True greatness never boasts or brags. Ultimate greatness expresses itself in loving as Christ loves, serving as Christ serves, forgiving as Christ forgives, giving as Christ gives -- even to the point of death.

The only way to greatness is through the cross. It’s not through climbing the corporate ladder. It’s not through great investment strategies. It’s not through rigorous training. And this is where the problem lies. Greatness in the kingdom of God is not dependent upon us; upon our ingenuity; upon our strength; upon our wisdom. Rather, greatness -- conformity to the image of Christ -- is the work of God in us.

The word Paul uses for greatness is “doxa.” You’re familiar with the Doxology -- “Praise God from whom all blessings flow.” This Holy Week work of God in our lives proclaims the greatness of God, who took the form of man, and humbled himself and was obedient to death -- even death on a cross. The work of God in your life -- and in my life -- accomplished in the person of Jesus Christ is for the -- doxa -- glory of God!

The Good News on this Good Friday is that God, even in the midst of the darkness and silence, is bringing about his glory by conforming us to his image. For if we are willing to die with him we will be raised to new life in his resurrection! In his death we die and in his resurrection we are raised to new and unending life in him! And in being raised to new life in Christ -- his greatness -- his glory -- is manifest in our lives. Our actions, our attitudes, our behaviors, our choices bear witness to the doxa; the glory of God in Christ Jesus. Remember. . . the only way to glory is through the cross. This is our hope for today. . . this is our bright hope for tomorrow.

“And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death -- even death on a cross” (Philippians 2:8).

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