Leadership and Service

Back in July, all the conditions seemed ideal for my first attempt at climbing Mount Rainier. I was in the best physical shape possible. I was emotionally and spiritually ready to climb Tahoma, the "Mountain of God." The weather that day was overcast and foggy, but the conditions were still good for climbing. I started out with the group from Paradise feeling great, getting into a rhythm with my breathing and hiking. The pace felt good. Things started to change for me at about six thousand feet, not too long into the climb. I began losing vision in my right eye; I experienced dizziness, headache, nausea; I began hyperventilating; I felt strength and power go out of my legs; and I began falling further and further behind the group. At a little less than eight thousand feet, the guides stopped me and would not let me continue. I had symptoms of altitude sickness, a condition that would only get worse the higher I went. They sent me back with two other guides so that I could get down safely on my own. Needless to say, I was mentally defeated and quite bummed that I had failed in my attempt that day. I was prepared for everything except altitude sickness.

When I got to base camp at Paradise, I had to wait two long and grueling hours for a shuttle to take me to my car in Ashford. During that time, I made three phone calls: to a friend, my community, and my family. (Thank God I was not playing "Who Wants to be a Millionaire?" or I would have used all my lifelines). I contacted my sister in Seattle, and she invited to stay the night at her house to recover from the experience. I knew that I did not want to be alone that night, and I needed God to be present to me in concrete ways. I needed "God with skin," and my sister and her family were able to be God's presence to me at that moment.

While I was at my sister's, my two nephews came in from playing outside. My ten-year-old nephew, Sean, came running in, threw his arms around me, gave me a kiss, and said, "I love you anyway," and then ran out of the room. Then my thirteen-year-old nephew, Kyle, came in. With him was his good friend from school. And in front of his friend, without any hesitation, he came up to me, hugged me, and said to me, "I love you, Nise." This was my mountaintop experience of God that day. Two young boys reminded me in a very ordinary way of God's unconditional love for me.

In the Gospel of Mark (9:30-37), Jesus and the disciples are on their way to Jerusalem. They are headed to that mountain of the paschal mystery that Jerusalem signifies. Along the way, Jesus' followers are still learning what it means to be a disciple. They are "disciples-in-process." At this point in the Gospel of Mark, the disciples are still learning what it means to climb God's mountain through Jerusalem, through the cross, through death and resurrection, through the paschal mystery. Jesus places a child before them as a model of leadership and as a way of discipleship. At the time of Jesus, children had no rights at all and were considered property. Jesus could have also placed a woman before the disciples and said the same thing. Like children, women also had no rights at the time of Jesus. Women and children, the powerless, were completely rooted in the care of others.

Jesus says, "Whoever welcomes a child in my name, welcomes me and the One who sent me." To welcome a child who had no rights or power was to love and give and serve without expectation. This is the call to discipleship: to love unconditionally, to care for the voiceless and the powerless, and to root ourselves in total dependence on God. For Jesus reminds the disciples that greatness is about being humble enough to be childlike (not childish) but childlike--full of awe and wonder, fully attentive to the present moment, vulnerable, and most of all, giving of selfless love.

Jesus also reminds the disciples that leadership is about service. As disciples, we are called to protect the vulnerable places in our heart with gentleness, mercy, and unconditional love. The Book of James reiterates this when speaking to the early Christian community about the wisdom of God as a way of cultivating peace. Children and youth seem to emulate this wisdom of God more readily for us: gentleness, flexibility, vulnerability, peacefulness, genuine sincerity, and love--with no strings attached.

In our world today, so often children and youth can get bad press. Yes, violence among young people is prevalent. So it is also true in the adult world. Yet children and youth can reveal to us the face of Christ--the presence of God that is full of joy and mystery, full of wonder in the present moment, full of honesty and integrity, and an incredible ability to throw one's arms around pain and vulnerability with unconditional love.

All of us are "disciples-in-process." As we gather around the word of God and the table of Christ, we are called to pay attention to the essential elements needed for our journey to the mountain of God through the paschal mystery. So let us love unconditionally, care tenderly for the vulnerable places within one another, and root ourselves deeply and totally in God. This is the model of leadership. This is the model of discipleship. This is the way to Jerusalem. With childlike wonder, let us welcome Christ among us.