Sunday, September 07, 2008

Faster, Higher, Stronger: Sportsmanship


This is the 9th (and last) of a series of Olympic-themed sermons. The title of the sermon series, "Faster, Higher, Stronger" is the English translation of the Olympic motto: Citius, Altius, Fortius. One of the most prestigious prizes awarded during the Olympics is the True Spirit of Sortsmanship medal, also known as the Pierre de Coubertin medal. At each Olympics, hundreds of gold medals are awarded, but in the 112-year history of the Modern Olympic Games, the Pierre de Coubertin medal has been awarded only ten times.

Frequently, the award winners have earned the award in the process of losing a gold medal. In the 1936 Olympics, silver medalist
Luz Long gave Jesse Owen advice on the long jump; in the 1988 Olympics, Canadian sailor Lawrence Lemieux was in second place when he stopped to rescue two other sailors who had capsized (Lemieux finished 22nd); bronze medalist Eugenio Monti of Italy gave the British team a bolt off his sled when theirs broke (the Brits went on to win the gold, and defending his actions Monti said, "[He] didn't win because I gave him the bolt. He won because he had the fastest run.").

Sportsmanship doesn’t always sit well, hence the saying, "Show me a good loser, and I’ll show you a loser." To some, winning is all there is. Consider
Ara Abrahamian, Swedish wrestler in the 2008 Olympics, who lost in the semi-finals on a judge’s decision. Abrahamian protested, but officials refused to review the decision. Abrahamian won the bronze medal match, took part in the medal ceremony, shook the hands of the one of the other medalists, and then placed his medal in the middle of the wrestling mat, and left the ceremony. He said, "I don’t care about this medal. I wanted the gold." He was subsequently disqualified.

Above athletic success is the loftier goal of sportsmanship. The athlete who pauses during competition to help an opponent has not lost focus, but rather has in mind a higher goal, a more valuable crown.

Mark 15:16-20

Commentary

The context, of course, is the trial and eventual crucifixion of Jesus. Although the gospel accounts vary in the details and the sequence of events during the trial, in
Mark’s account, from the time Jesus is handed over to the Romans until his death, the only accusation brought against Jesus is his claim to be king of the Jews. In Mark alone, while Jesus is alive and before the Romans, nobody (not even Jesus) alludes to his claims of divinity and divine sonship. However, his claim to be king of the Jews is mentioned repeatedly: v2, v9, v12, v18, v26, v32. Only after his death does the Roman centurion on the scene wise up and say, "Surely this man was the Son of God" (v39).

v17 twisted together a crown. There are several synonyms in English for a crown: chaplet, circlet, corona, diadem, laureate, tiara, wreath. There are several Greek words as well; the word used here refers to a wreath—a crown that is woven, twisted, or braided together. This was the same term used to describe the crowns given to victorious athletes at the Olympics and other games. This is the only term used for Jesus’ crown of thorns, and the word is also used later in the NT for other crowns:
Matt. 27:29; John 19:2,5; 1 Cor. 9:25; Phil. 4:1; 1 Thess. 2:19; 2 Tim. 4:8; James 1:12; 1 Peter 5:4; Rev. 2:10; 3:11; 4:4,10; 6:2; 9:7; 12:1; 14:14. A few of these verses refer to victorious athletes; however, most refer children of God who have overcome great challenges and who have persevered to the end. A couple refer to the crown worn by Christ on his return, but the crown is signaling the ultimate victor. In the old Westerns, you could always spot the hero, because he wore a white hat. In Revelation, the hero isn’t wearing a white hat, he is wearing the victor’s crown; he is the one who can say, "I have overcome the world" (John 16:25). In only one passage is the bearer of the crown evil (the exception that proves the rule).

v18-20 The language here is a curious mix of proper respect and brutality. They call out to him in welcoming terms … and strike him. They spit on him … and then genuflect before him. The brutality is made all the worse by the interspersed terms of respect which make the conclusion all the worse, "Then they led him out to crucify him."

Application

There is heavy irony in this scene of the persecution of Jesus; Jesus is being spit on beaten, and ridiculed for being exactly what he is: King of the Jews.

It is a maxim of political campaigns—and probably other arguments as well—that the arguments that work, the points that are valid, are exactly the ones that your opponent feels the need to refute—usually stridently.

The problem drinker is precisely the one who insists he does not have a problem.

The domestic abuser is precisely the one who insists he loves his wife.

The bigot is precisely the one who insists he respects "those people."

So it is for the Roman soldiers—and in the rest of Mark 15:1-37, the Jews as well. It is precisely those who insist, "We need no other king," who are in most desperate need of a new king. It is precisely those who are most vocal about the illogic of the notion of God who are most protective of their private god (whether they recognize it as a god or not). The old kings must be deposed; the old gods must be torn down; but those in denial will fight for the status quo. They are like Abrahamian, whose god was a gold medal when a greater "god" of sportsmanship (and a bronze medal to boot) was there to be had.

These same people—the ones protecting lesser gods and lesser prizes—will be the ones insisting that your standards are unrealistic, your goals are unattainable, your gods cannot deliver. One can imagine Pilate saying, "Look here, Jesus, renege on your claim to be king, and I’ll let you off with a only a beating." Sometimes the exact thing you will be asked to give up is the exact place where you are about to see victory.

How ironic the crown that was placed on Jesus’ head: the victor’s crown! There is another type of crown found in the NT—the diadem, a crown denoting power, the crown found on the best in the Revelation of John (
Rev 12:3, 13:1). The beast, a false king, is all about power, but the real king, the one who will overcome evil, the one wearing the victor’s crown, is Jesus.

God the Father doesn’t tell you, or Jesus, to overcome by yourself. Jesus has to die to achieve the victory. You will have to die to a worldly way of living to see the victory. The crown of persecution that you are called to wear is the victor’s crown, just as it is for Jesus. God’s promise is not that you win without pain, but rather, after the pain, after death, after worldly loss, the Father will raise you up again to new life.

The Father never said it would be easy; he said it would be worth it.

Points to Ponder

Compare the four accounts of Jesus’ trial before Pilate and crucifixion:
Matt 27:11-54, Mark 15:1-39, Luke 23:1-47, and John 18:28-19:37.

How do you account for the differences between the different accounts?

Is it a matter of different eye witnesses remembering events differently?

Could the different authors have had different readers in mind (and hence different themes) in mind when they wrote?

Church tradition is that the gospel of Mark was probably written by John Mark under the supervision of Peter for the church in Rome. Why would kingship have meant something different to the church in Rome than the church in Jerusalem?

No comments: