THE SON OF MAN: REDEMPTIVE MINISTRY

Mark x. 45 (Matt. xx. 28).

There is much to account for the attitude of the two disciples who sought the places of honour in the Messianic kingdom. It has ever been the practice of the conquerors and rulers of the earth to reward their faithful adherents and helpers with posts of responsibility and honour. Alexander the Great raised his devoted friends to positions of command in his army. Napoleon placed his brothers and kindred on the thrones of the kingdoms he had conquered. In ancient times especially office was viewed not so much in the light of a trust to be conscientiously administered either in the interests of the entrusting sovereign or in those of the people over whom it carried authority, as in the light of a prize to be coveted, a reward of fidelity. If, therefore, the Messianic kingdom was to have a hierarchy of officers, those who were the nearest to the king himself might very well expect headship over others when the kingdom was established.

From this ideal to that of Jesus it was a long and difficult way that the disciples were called to travel. We wonder, first of all, that they did not at once decline to go further. We do not wonder that they found it difficult to move from their position to that of Jesus. "Ye know that the princes of the Gentiles exercise dominion over them, and they that are great exercise authority over them. But it shall not be so among you: but whosoever will be great among you, let him be your minister; and whosoever would be chief among you, shall be your servant" (Matt. xx. 25-27, A.V.). It has been, and is, a hard lesson to learn for the disciples of Jesus. All through the ages those who have sincerely wished to live close to Jesus have acted as if somehow they thought that Jesus did not mean what He said. For have they not assumed, not only the titles "Lord" and "Master," "Doctor" and "prince," but also tried to exercise the dominion and authority carried by these names and titles? There are, indeed, times when the Master's living illustration of it looms with irresistible distinctness before the eyes of the disciples, and humiliation and heart-searchings follow; but soon again, like men who wish to keep awake but whom sleep overcomes, they lapse once more into the same jealous watchfulness of each other, anxious lest their fellow-disciples may some" how gain the upper hand.

"It shall not be so among you" (A. V.). The way in which Jesus pressed His principle upon His disciples was not by adducing arguments, but by holding His own example plainly before them. "Ye call me Teacher and Lord: and ye say well; for so I am. If I then, the Lord and the Teacher, have washed your feet; ye also -ought to wash each other's feet" (John xiii. 13). If the king of the kingdom was not to lord it over the people, certainly none of them should aim to lord it over the others. "The Son of Man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister."

1. Exaltation through Abasement.

He who would be first must become such by choosing to be last. He who would seek the position of servant would rise to greatness. Exaltation through abasement: that is the paradox of Jesus. The explanation of the paradox lies in the fact that place as such is not a proper goal of ambition according to Jesus. What His disciple should seek is not place but work. And the reward of work must needs be place. In seeking work one abases himself. In receiving the reward he is exalted.

Exaltation through abasement Yes, but not abasement in order to exaltation. There is a way of reading the principle which nullifies its real force. When one deliberately chooses a low place with the intention of thereby securing a higher one in the end, not only does he misunderstand the meaning of the Master, but as soon as his motive betrays itself, as it is bound to do, he must needs fail to attain the end. Moreover, service undertaken for the sake of promotion to rulership soon becomes formal and perfunctory, and degenerates, as in the case of the mediaeval rite of feet-washing, into an empty caricature. No one ever commanded more instant respect for Himself than Jesus did. Yet no one laid less claim to it for its own sake than He. "He made himself of no reputation, and took upon him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of man" (Phil. ii. 7, A.V.). "Though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor" (2 Cor. viii. 9, A.V.). Why? Not in order to be made richer, or to be raised to a higher height, but simply and purely in order to enrich those whom He had loved. Hence, "God hath exalted and given him a name which is above every name: that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under the earth" (Phil. ii. 9, 10). His abasement was unreserved, and its object was the lifting up of those who were sunken into a helpless dejection.

There is a generosity that aims to get more than it gives: it is the generosity of the investor. The owner of lands grants to the community a liberal tract for the erection of a church or a school in a growing territory. Apparently he impoverishes himself in order to enrich the public. In reality he enriches himself. The value of what he has given comes back to him, perhaps manifold, in the enhancement of the value of the lands remaining in his possession. To this kind of giver one may almost hear Jesus saying, "What reward have ye? Do not even the publicans the same? What do ye more than others?" What reward does the ostensibly humble man deserve who depreciates himself in order to hear others sing his praises? What more than others does the apparently self-denying man who practises his self-renunciation for a time in order later to yield himself to a more unrestrained indulgence?

The self-abasement which leads to exaltation is a self-forgetful abasement So long as its spell holds one he knows of nothing ulterior. How often a public man has thrown himself into some form of service, taking a lowly place in the ranks, thoughtful of nothing but the immediate good end to be accomplished, and has found himself to his great surprise the subject of applause and appreciation. And what in all such cases is of more consequence to the faithful worker, he has also earned promotion to higher forms of service. The last are constantly being forced to the first places, and the first to the last, not by the hand of a mocking Nemesis, but in accordance with a universal law. The seed that falls into the soil from the plant seems lost, but from the point of view of the plant it is the only seed that is not lost. Self-forgetful effort in behalf of others always brings forth fruit in perpetuating the good done; and self-seeking, self-advertising activity brings its own reward, which may be, indeed, conspicuity for a season, but it is conspicuity with scorn.

2. Leadership through Service.

But exaltation and abasement alike are but means toward ends. Even self-abasement, unreserved and self-forgetful, may not be in itself what Jesus meant to make the law of His kingdom. "The Son of Man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister." More important than exaltation through self-abasement is the lesson of leadership through service.

Among the nations the goal of ambition is that one should be offered and accept graciously the service of his inferiors. The badge of royalty is to be obeyed. "I also am a man set under authority," said the centurion with natural pride, "and I say to this one, Go, and he goeth; and to another. Come, and he cometh" (Luke vii. 8). To have large numbers of loyal subordinates to whom one may issue orders and know that he will be implicitly respected and served, to have others work for one and to enjoy the fruits of their labours, this is what made positions of command so desirable.

There were, indeed, faint glimmerings of a different ideal of regal dignity and prerogative even in ancient times. The advisers of Rehoboam were divided into two groups. The younger said to him, in effect, that the demands of the tribes were simply the omens of a rebellious disposition, the beginnings of anarchy, the mutterings of an impending outbreak against discipline. They must be summarily dealt with, and that with a strong hand. The only way to maintain order in such circumstances was to double the rigour of existing disciplinary measures. The older and more experienced men held up another ideal. "If thou wilt serve this people," they said, "they will obey thee." Events proved that whatever the value and wisdom of the older men may have been, that of the younger was suicidal.

Other kings in Israel, because they realised the ideal of the older advisers of Rehoboam, were more successful. They demonstrated the proposition that the perpetuity of the ruler's hold on the ruled depends on his unswerving purpose to administer the government altogether in the interests of the whole people ruled. This was what the prophets meant by righteousness as they held up the principle to the leaders of Israel. "Ich Dien" should be not only the motto, but the working philosophy of the monarchy that would expect loyal subjects.

But these were only the fore-shadowings, the dim anticipations of the full divine ideal of royalty. They were to become clearer when the grand figure of the Servant of Jehovah was thrown on the canvas. They were to be perfected, and perfectly revealed, in the person and mission of Jesus. In Him leadership through helpful service was shown forth in its full beauty, and the evolution of true princely character was completed. Noblesse oblige may now well sum up the distinctive quality of true aristocracy.

Monarchy is passing away. Democratic political institutions are prevailing all over the globe. But the spirit of self-promotion is not limited to monarchical forms of State organisation. The instinct for dominion over others, which is a form of the more primal instinct of self-preservation, continues to work. It is necessary to set over-against it what Drummond has taught us to call the "struggle for the other." Men under democratic forms of government and under social conditions which exclude aristocratic distinctions cling to the desire to be served. They have not ceased aiming to raise themselves upon pedestals from whence they may exercise authority. They may not demand the places on the right hand and on the left hand of power as a matter of privilege because of intimacy with the absolute king; they may not ask for them on the ground of inherited rights; they may only plead the possession of hard won wealth, or of influence secured through years of work; but whether on the ground of wealth or achievement of any kind, the moment any one sets forth a claim to be ministered unto, he is placing himself in a different class from the Son of Man.

"Ye know not what ye ask," may be said to him as it was to the sons of Zebedee. "Are ye able to drink the cup that I shall drink of, and to be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?" How eagerly these young men accepted the challenge! A young prince ambitious to enjoy the glamour and glory of the throne says, "I am able," to do the work of the king. But he soon discovers that the cup which accompanies the throne has for dregs, anxieties and fears, apprehensions of revolution, terrors of the assassin's dagger, or the anarchist's bomb, forebodings of humiliation and distress for the loved ones. These are not necessarily limited to the lot of the weak and unworthy ruler; they may be inevitable as ingredients of royalty under all conditions; but how different their aspect to the monarch who aims at royalty for the honour and the power it brings, from what it is to the one who takes royalty as a God-given trust and task to be performed in the spirit of loving ministry to his people. To the one they are the unexpected, mysterious and undeserved misfortunes that fickle Fortune has placed in his lot; to the other they are the cross which all faithful ministry must vicariously carry. Herod died haunted by fears and exhausted by diseases, not knowing why his lot should have been beset by so many and so sore trials. William of Orange died by the hand of the assassin, realising that he had done the will of God, and full of peace because his efforts had resulted in measurably advancing the interests of his beloved people.

Again, the man who is emulating the place of leadership in the modern church or society — who is seeking to become pope, cardinal, bishop, president, overseer, moderator, answers the question, "Are ye able?" with a half thought out, "1 am able"; and he discovers, alas! too late, that the coveted prize had attached to it a cup full of bitter dregs. There was the criticism of his brethren, the jealousy of his rivals, the misunderstanding of his motives and aims, the defection of his associates and helpers, the challenging of his wisdom, the thousand other petty trials and annoyances. How will he take these? What will they mean to him? When the cry is raised that his leadership is resulting in the muddling of affairs, that he has bungled and missed the course, that he is driving the ship to its ruin upon the rocks, what will he think of it? Will he say, It is a blind and cruel fate that has thrown him into the hands of merciless adversaries, or will he look only to Him that judgeth aright for His judgment, and to the advancement of the cause committed to his hands as his joy? It will depend on whether he was led to the place of leadership without seeking it for himself, and accepted it as an opportunity for helpful service; or sought the position for the honour, the power, and the emoluments it would bring him.

To put the question from a slightly different point of view, Would the leader accept the sleepless nights, the carking cares, the broken health, the unkindness of critics, and the apparent waste of time and labour, if he knew these were necessary in the performance of the task? It depends on whether he views the task as a means of being ministered unto or of ministering.

3. Redemption through Suffering.

The test, then, of the service which leads to leadership is not its pure disinterestedness, but its absorbing and intense interest in the welfare of one's human brethren. And as the supreme region where welfare may be wrought out is the spiritual, and the supreme need in the spiritual sphere is the blotting out of sin, it was meet that the supreme instance of service should issue in redemption through suffering. He "came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and give his life a ransom for many'' But though redemption through suffering is peculiarly the characteristic of the work of the Son of Man, in a secondary and subordinate way it may be held as the goal of all service.

The world has in these latter days developed a broad idea of service. All kinds of good work are included under the enticing name. It is service to give of one's substance for the relief of suffering. We call it service to educate the mind of the ignorant and put them in a position where they can help themselves. We call it service to labour for the righting of wrongs and injustices caused by an abnormal industrial development, or incident to a too rapid growth in the scientific control of the resources of the earth. We call it service to live in a social settlement in the midst of the slums with the design of merely showing those who have no opportunity of learning otherwise how a pure, clean, and noble life may be lived. This is all very good. It is quite possible, however, that some one or all of these forms of service may be looked at as in itself and for its sake the ultimate goal and aim of effort: and when this is done merely ameliorative effort usurps the place of redemptive service.

The Son of Man entered upon a manifold ministry. He healed the sick, he cheered the discouraged, he comforted the sorrowing, he raised the downfallen, he taught the ignorant; and all ministries along these lines in His name must undoubtedly be reckoned as affiliated with His work, as having the sanction of His example and the promise of His approval. Nevertheless it must never be forgotten that the primary object of Jesus in ministering was the salvation of souls from the thraldom of sin. "The Son of Man came to seek and to save that which was lost." Had the ills of humanity been merely those of ignorance or poverty, of bodily weakness or inadequate legislation, the Son of Man might have left the natural provisions of the universe to work out the problem of the elimination of these evils as they have had a tendency to do in all ages. But the truth is that behind and beneath all these subordinate evils there is one common root and principle of life: and that, experience has demonstrated no processes of evolution have a tendency to eliminate, and no growth of civilisation has a tendency to diminish. It was this that was causing the "loss" of men and women; and therefore it was this that the Son of Man was concerned to attack, and from the power of this it was His purpose and endeavour to rescue the children of God.

The Pharisees of old called it "Yetserha-ra '" (the principle of evil), theologians have named it "Original Sin" and "Total Depravity." And these terms have in the course of their use acquired connotations of an objectionable character. We may easily dispense with their use since Jesus Himself did not resort to them to express His meaning. But there can be no question whatever that the thing they aim to express is a fact of experience and an assumption of Jesus in His whole attitude and teaching. Redemptive ministry meant to Him giving "his life a ransom for many." And all ministry was summed up and capitalised in His suffering for the redemption of His lost sheep. Nor could redemption be accomplished except by the way of His giving His life a ransom. There are axiomatic truths in the physical sphere, as that the whole is more than any of its parts, or that two bodies cannot occupy the same space at the same time. There seems to be a necessary and even axiomatic truth in the realm of spiritual reality, less obvious, perhaps, because truth in the higher sphere is always less easy to discern, that redemption cannot be accomplished except through vicarious suffering.

Finally, such redemptive service can only be rendered by one who is himself in no need of redemption, hence for human beings by those who have been redeemed. Only as the soul has realised the double truth that once redeemed there can be no more anxiety for its own blessedness, and that the blessing of redemption in contrast to the distress and danger of sin is of infinite value, can it with adequate and carrying motive power take up the work of ministering to others and giving its own life a ransom for many.