Instructing them must have been challenging. In the Gospel, Jesus takes pain to repeat what was said last week. He tells them in no uncertain terms that He will be delivered unto death. Imagine that in the midst of a solemn revelation, they are distracted by a dispute of whom amongst them is the greatest. In a way, this is most reassuring.
We are not unlike to the Apostles.
By nature, we are keen to get ahead. “Kiasu”[1] is a familiar label in this part of the world. All through human history, the various global migratory patterns, whilst they are premised on improving one’s economic status[2], are indications of this innate drive to get ahead. We are ambitious because competitiveness is a function of survival. At a basic level, it is survival of the fittest. One may judge the aggressive and combative need to forge ahead as selfish and yet healthy competitiveness is necessary because it allows us to rise above mediocrity. It is an engine for improvement and the betterment of life.
But competitiveness expresses more than the desire to arrive. What it highlights is an inborn longing for completion. Think of the parable of the Rich Fool in Luke’s Gospel (Lk 12: 13-21). The title clearly indicates the foolishness of trusting in wealth. More subtle than his greed is actually a belief that he has enough to be whole. “Let me build a bigger barn” is just a mistaken notion that the final fulfilment of one’s life can be realised in this temporary world.
If one takes a look at the older “tamans” (housing projects), one can also observe a similar development. They started off fundamentally to provide shelter and security. Over time, sprouting from these nondescript terrace houses are conspicuous hints of having arrived. What was once a simple roof over the head will give way to more ostentatious displays of one’s newly acquired status.
There is nothing wrong with home augmentation or enhancement. It would also be too simplistic to characterise the improvement of a house as materialistic. However, the need to be “better” than everyone else may hide a misguided assumption that fulfilment is guaranteed through social status or worldly estimation that the display of wealth affords. It is a struggle that reveals a spiritual poverty. In Jesus, competitiveness is not a function of survival. His use of a child for comparison is to highlight their uncluttered simplicity. For Jesus, to be ahead is to aim for an excellence or a nobility in the domain of our personal behaviour—both private and public. In other words, with Him, our striving is to be holier but not than thou. It is to strain ahead for His Kingdom.
The only competition amongst the Disciples is to follow Him wherever He goes—like a German Shepherd Dog that shadows its master, or a child that clings to his or her parent. What powered Peter’s early discipleship is quite apparent. He thought he was following Jesus but he was following his own idea of a Messiah. For Peter, the chosen and anointed one was patterned after the model monarch of Israel, King David. Peter can hardly be blamed for that. The entire Jewish mindset is influenced by this belief that the promised Messiah will lead them to territorial integrity.
Jesus did lead them. He kept stressing to them that He will be handed over to be crucified. His glory will come not from this world but from the Father. That is the conversion that Peter and the rest must go through. The remaining chapters of Mark’s Gospel describe that journey. In this passage, the instructions or the teachings that Jesus gave them is more than an impartation of knowledge.
Good teachers recognise that. They do not really “teach” knowledge but rather they convert their students. Revolutionary leaders are great teachers simply because they capture the hearts of their followers. In today’s passage, the tone of the conversation amongst the Apostles might give the impression that Jesus was unsuccessful. But every single one of them, with the exception of John[3], died a martyr’s death—a potent signal of their conversion to Jesus, their Lord and Saviour. When Peter fled from his crucifixion in Rome, according to the “apocryphal Acts of Peter”, he encountered the Christ going in the opposite direction to Rome, seemingly to be crucified in his cowardly place. Peter’s “Quo vadis, Domine” occasioned from Jesus “Romam eo iterum crucifigi” which struck Peter not just the shame but also gain him the courage to face his own martyrdom.
The key to our conversion is love. Love for the man Jesus. In terms of competitiveness and being ahead, we can discern a bigger picture here. Firstly, it does not mean that only “the humble” or the “poor” are better disciples. Admittedly, wealth tends to blind us but rich in our Catholic history are kings and queens who are saints. Even though they were wealthy and way ahead of everyone, they never allowed their power or position to blind them to who they truly are. Secondly and importantly, what was decisive in their lives was that they loved Jesus dearly. That love for Him flowed into the conduct of their courtly lives and also the active ministry toward His poor.
We can observe this love in the conversion of a saint very much in the vein of today’s Gospel. He is none other than Ignatius of Loyola. In his recovery from a battle wound, he read the Imitation of Christ and the Lives of the Saints. Prior to his conversion, he was a courtier of vain fantasies, a womaniser and a gambler. Reading the lives of Ss Francis and Dominic changed him. “What if I should do what St Francis did?”. “What if I should act like St Dominic?”. Their examples pruned Ignatius’ pride and from there he sought to serve the same Lord of both Ss Francis and Dominic.
From our saints, we realise that our conversion must go beyond mere knowledge “of” the Lord. Millions know “of” Jesus and are content to stop there. We are apprehensive with moving “beyond the knowledge of Jesus” because we also realise that to know Him personally might demand a lot more than we are prepared to give. In general, nobody sacrifices himself or herself for an idea. Ideology when unfulfilled will only harden and embitter a heart. Whereas love provides the condition for the possibility of self-abandonment and self-sacrifice. Love for Jesus is the strength of saints and martyrs who follow Him right to the end. Think about it. For some of us, the world is a royal mess and perhaps a reason to despair. But look at those who love Jesus. Despite the depressing odds, they continue to labour for Him and often unnoticed by a world fixated by an obsession to be seen, to be recognised and to be acknowledged. Those who are in love with Jesus exudes a peace that can only come from an intimacy with the Lord. In conclusion, to be competitive is natural. But the logic of competition for Jesus does not entail being ahead of others except in humble servitude. If we want to be a leader, be ready to suffer for others. And if we want to run ahead, then race for heaven. Like the disputing Apostles, ambition and jealousy take our eyes off the goal of Discipleship which is to love Him with all our heart, to serve Him with all our strength and to follow Him faithfully all the way to Calvary.
[1] Fear of losing out, or FOLO or FOMO, that is, the
fear of missing out.
[2] In our era, political considerations play a major
role in migration too. In this case, it is survival.
[3] John lovingly took the place of Jesus in caring for His
mother, Mary. He is no less a follower. Through him, we are blessed with a most
sublime Gospel.
