April 9, 2006

Phoning Home: Submission
Mark 14:32-42

I was, as I recall, in sixth or seventh grade at the time. A few of my friends and I were playing ball in between Doug Jensen’s and Tommy Clarkson’s houses. Buddy Gladdish was with us. Buddy, a recent addition to the neighborhood by way of Texas, was two years older than me—I guess he still is! He was a skinny but rugged kid who knew no fear. I once saw Buddy jump down an entire flight of steps in his house and ram both of his knees through the drywall in the hallway on the main floor, just beside the front door. I also watched in disbelief as Buddy completed 560 consecutive sit-ups in Tommy’s front lawn, leaving two three-inch deep holes where the heels of his shoes had been. Buddy, as innocent as he appeared to be, was no pushover.

On the occasion in question, Buddy had me pinned to the ground and was beating the daylights out of me. We apparently caused enough commotion that my mother heard me a few houses away. Without hesitation, she came running and demanded that Buddy release me immediately. “All he has to do is say, ‘I give,’” Buddy responded! But I refused. In fact, I had refused several times in the moments leading up to my mom’s arrival. I wasn’t giving in. I would not admit defeat. Bring on the beating, I as much as announced. So Buddy did.

From the moment of conception, or so it seems, people like me and perhaps like you find it difficult to say, “I give.” Surely no sinful stain runs deeper in the human psyche than this urge, this necessity, to always be right, to insist on our own way, to win. Such an urge rears its head in various everyday contexts: in the middle of a game of Scrabble when someone challenges an opponent’s spelling of a certain word; around the dinner table when attempts are made to determine whether or not Johnny was in fact told earlier to empty the waste basket that remains full in the kitchen; in the car when everyone is discussing which of the exits from the interstate was the correct one. Sometimes, however, the stakes run far higher. Friendships falter, opportunities are missed, marriages deteriorate, and churches split, at times because people simply refuse to say “I give.” They have to be right.

The Bible has an antidote to this sometimes incessant desire—need?—to have our own way, to win, to always be right. In the same way that fasting enables us to control our physical cravings and that solitude helps us to detach ourselves from the endless stimulation—noise, speed, activities—that we constantly receive, so, too, does Scripture offer a spiritual exercise for humbling ourselves and elevating others. Jesus, once again, models this discipline here in Mark 14. Jesus practices submission.

Palm Sunday, as we today refer to it, was undoubtedly a day of high energy and celebration. The crowd, Mark informed us earlier (11:1-11), spread their cloaks and leafy branches before Jesus as he made his way into Jerusalem. “Hosanna!” they shouted. “Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David!” Surely one would be hard-pressed to imagine a scene more conducive to self-serving and “Me-first” tendencies than this. Jesus finds himself on Palm Sunday in a position of public acclaim, a position of power. Why, the audience is virtually eating out of his finger tips. Jesus can now call the shots and outline the strategy.

And yet, look at him just a few days later in the Garden of Gethsemane. The depiction is moving beyond words. The festive crowds are nowhere to be found. His closest friends—Peter, James and John—are distressed and agitated. And Jesus is himself thoroughly torn up inside, grieved beyond bearable limits. We can rest assured that scenes from his recent entry to Jerusalem flash through his mind. What is to prevent him from either running from his approaching accusers or even subduing them for that matter? Don’t for one moment assume that Jesus’ pain and anguish on this occasion are in any way lessened because of his divinity. Jesus is overwhelmed. “There must be another way,” he cries out. “Father, for you all things are possible; remove this cup from me.” Jesus is desperate to bypass his upcoming arrest, trial and crucifixion. Who after all, eagerly endures humiliation, abuse and martyrdom? Again, I ask, what prevents him from insisting upon his own way? A spirit of submission: “…yet, not what I want, but what you want.” The same Jesus who was earlier willing to submit to his father and take on human flesh is now willing to submit again and have that flesh destroyed. The surest way to rid yourself of the need to have your own way, the surest way to overcome the urge to win every debate, every argument, every contest, and, the surest way to experience the freedom that comes with elevating others, is to practice the discipline of submission.

This matter of submission, however, sometimes raises various red flags for many of us. For one thing, faulty impressions and interpretations of submission have left many people equating submission with such things as weakness, cowardliness, avoidance of conflict, indecisiveness and even self-contempt. In reality, submission is rarely a “cop-out” and is most often more difficult to practice than is exerting oneself. For another, few biblical teachings have caused more hardship for certain people than has this matter of submission. Subjects have been mistreated by officials, slaves by their masters, wives by their husbands, children by their parents, and even church goers by their pastors and priests, all in the name of submission. Submission, let me make plain, has its limits. There are occasions when we are right and must not compromise. There are also situations when we are abused and dehumanized and must protect ourselves or others. We must be careful, however, not to abandon this wonderful and potentially life-changing theme—a thread running throughout the Bible—because of faulty interpretations and misapplications.

The discipline of submission involves, at the heart, a radically different way of looking at ourselves and others. In the New Testament, Christians are instructed repeatedly to submit or be subject to those who are over them. Citizens are to submit to government officials, congregants to church leaders, slaves to masters, wives to husbands and children to parents. Each of these cases represents a perfectly natural hierarchical arrangement. Two ideas, however, stand out in the New Testament that are particularly noteworthy. First, the very fact that Paul and others encourage Christians to submit to those who are over them suggests that some might have concluded that their newfound freedom in Christ superseded or made unnecessary such expected acts of submission. “We are free in Christ,” some might have concluded, “so we no longer need to follow the standards of society.” Not so, we read. If anything, our freedom in Christ ought to lead us to submit all the more willingly, for who, better than Christians, should desire to elevate others above themselves.

Of equal importance to this is the New Testament’s unambiguous insistence that submission for followers of Jesus now applies as well to those who occupy the privileged position in any relationship. For every word of instruction to the weaker or powerless party is a corresponding word to the strong. Husbands are told to love their wives. Parents must not provoke their children. Masters are to recognize their subjects’ God-given value. To this we might, by extension, add others. Teachers, treat your students with dignity and respect. Employers, supervise your employees with gentleness and grace. And so on. Biblical submission, then, is not a response relegated to the weak, but a perspective—an attitude—to be shared by all. In the same way that Jesus emptied himself and modeled submission, so, too, are his followers to practice submission in all areas of life.

So where do we begin? We start, first of all, by submitting to God. In Psalm 81:11, the Lord mourns over Israel’s refusal to say “I give”:
But my people did not listen to my
voice;
Israel would not submit to me.
If the question of who is in charge in your life remains unanswered, that is your starting point.

Second, we submit to the teachings of Scripture. I’ve often said that one’s views of the Bible is not so much reflected in what he says about the Bible but by whether or not he is will to bring his life under the Scriptures’ scrutiny. If you are a reader of the Bible but not a doer, if you are in some way living in clear opposition to what the Scriptures teach, then you need to submit.

And finally, we prayerfully and intentionally begin practicing submission in all of our human relationships—with our superiors, spouses, employees, students, children, neighbors, roommates and even casual acquaintances. Once again, submitting to another person or group of people is not so much a rigidly organized game plan as it is an attitude—a perspective. Stop insisting on having the final word. Say “I really can’t recall” the next time you get into one of those unwinnable arguments about who said or did what yesterday or the day before. Listen carefully to the counsel of those who are over you. Do what is rightfully expected of you without fussing and murmuring. Forfeit your personal preference on some matter this week out of respect for someone else. Resist the urge to force an argument until you weary the other person and come out on top. Stop insisting that your way is the only way. Get your hands dirty and change a few diapers. Admit your contribution to a divisive situation and seek forgiveness. Learn to say, “I give” a bit more easily.

When I was in seminary, a young couple living near to us actually found themselves in marriage counseling—their relationship was very much in jeopardy. This is what had happened. At the end of each day, the husband removed his socks and left them on the floor at the foot of the bed. He assumed, of course, that his new bride would eagerly pick them up and place them in the laundry hamper. Surprisingly, the young woman ignored the socks and left them right where they were. As one day segued into another, the pile of socks grew larger and larger. Soon, when his supply of socks ran out, the man went to the store and bought a new supply. And on and on it went. The man, raised in a home where the mother apparently did everything for the kids, expected his wife to do the same. The woman, raised in a home that placed great emphasis on independence and personal responsibility, refused. And their relationship faltered. Neither would yield. Both wanted it their own way. They were as stubborn as I was that day long ago when Buddy Gladdish gave me a beating. No one even tried to say, “I give.”

Jesus, while kneeling alone in the Garden of Gethsemane, torn apart inside over what would soon face him, practiced submission. He said—listen to him—“I give.” How much better off would we all be if we could somehow learn to do the same?