Proper 20B
In the name of God: who is truly great and truly good. Amen.
Not too long ago, I was reading a reflection about a sculpture that was created by the 17th century Italian sculptor, Bernini. The reflection was on one of his works, “The Bust of the Cardinal Scipione Borghese”.
Borghese was the nephew of the Pope at the time and was appointed to a particularly influential role in the college of Cardinals, despite being quite young and inexperienced. And the story of the bust that he commissioned from Bernini reveals a young man who was quite full of himself.
Bernini wasn’t as careful as other more famous sculptors of his time, and just as he finished the bust, a hairline fracture appeared in the forehead of the figure, revealing the low quality of the marble that he’d chosen for the project. So, he quickly had to create a replacement to satisfy his patron. But when Borghese learned of the issue, he demanded that both busts be given to him, and he proudly displayed them both, so that wherever a visitor was in his gallery, his bust would be in view.
Though the sculptor was not the finest of his time, and though the subject, through his obvious narcissism, left a lot to be desired, the bust remains as a fairly influential piece of art from the era. Part of the reason for that is because of the way Bernini portrayed the Cardinal.
It would have been more expected for him to have attempted to create a more perfect representation of the man – and perhaps even an enhanced version to play to his ego and make him look even better than he was in real life. But Bernini saw him and portrayed him a bit differently.
Rather than looking straight ahead, peering into the audience, the bust of Borghese shows him looking slightly off to the side, with his lips slightly parted. The job of the bust is to stare at the viewer, but this one seems distracted.
But there was another feature that most captured my attention. One of the buttons on his cape, draped over his shoulders, is only half-buttoned – as if it could pop out, undone, and any moment. As the sculptor found the image of his patron in stone, he specifically decided to include this “oversight” – this imperfection. It’s remarkable – his attention to detail, so precise that depicted an overlooked detail.
The thing is, if Bernini had followed the rules – if he had created a standard bust looking straight ahead, with every detail “perfected” as it should have been, then this sculpture would probably have been lost and forgotten as just another of many. How many sculptors were working in that time and place, and how many of their creations have been ignored by history? But in this one, it’s the imperfections that elevate it to greatness.
One of the more consistent messages of Jesus is that the way we’re looking at the world isn’t necessarily the way the world is. The freedom we seek may not be the freedom God gives us. The power we admire and aspire to probably isn’t the kind of power that God promises in Christ. The wealth that the world sets up as our ideal, isn’t the kind of wealth that a life in Christ guarantees. There is freedom, power, and wealth in Christ – but they are very different from the archetypes set up in the physical world.
In our reading from the Gospel today, we’re told that as Jesus traveled through the region, his disciples were discussing among themselves who was the greatest. And once again, Jesus reminds them: greatness probably isn’t what you were thinking it would be.
Offering the example of a child, he teaches them: you may have thought greatness would be defined by all the ways people might bow down to you – the ways they would defer to you. But real greatness is being open to deferring to others. Real greatness is adopting a willingness to serve. Real greatness doesn’t point to ourselves, but to God. It’s the imperfect moments that help us to see what’s truly great – not just the ideal times.
Our Collect of the Day today begins, “Grant us, Lord, not to be anxious about earthly things, but to love things heavenly…”.
That’s a tough ask. It’s the earthly things that we see and interact with each day. It’s the earthly things that make up for us a life – they’re the easiest place to focus, because they’re right in front of us. And, moreover, it’s these earthly things that the powerful forces of this world demand that we focus on.
It’s easy to be anxious about them. In fact, to the degree that I am ever anxious, it is almost invariably about earthly things. When I’m clearest in my focus on “things heavenly”, that’s when the anxiety subsides.
There’s so much pressure to be great in this world. There’s so much pressure to have the best and to consume the most. There’s so much pressure that it’s no wonder we focus our anxiety there.
But remember, greatness is in a child. Greatness is in being a person of service in a world of consumption. Greatness is in the imperfection of a hastily handled, half-closed button, sealed in marble for centuries. Greatness is in the surprise of a truth we couldn’t have imagined – but can only find.
Everything in this world is telling us that greatness is sitting on a throne, consuming the most, and looking out for “number one”. But the greatness promised in Christ is more vulnerable. It’s less “perfect” by the world’s standards. Sometimes it’s messy and sometimes it’s painful.
But shifting our focus is how we welcome Christ into our
lives. It’s how we live in abundant life
with God, the creator of all. Amen.
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