John Claypool 
"First Class Jesus Style" 
Program #3919
First air date February 11, 1996

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Biography
Fr. John Claypool is Rector of St. Luke's Episcopal Church in Birmingham, Alabama, and made his first appearance on 30 Good Minutes in 1978. A native of Kentucky, John was ordained in the Southern Baptist denomination in 1953, and served churches in Kentucky, Tennessee, Texas, Mississippi, and Louisiana. In 1986, he was ordained to the priesthood in the Episcopal Church, and has been rector of St. Luke's since 1987. John Claypool is one of America's great preachers. His sermons are widely published in books, journals and magazines, and he's in great demand as a speaker. [Biographical information is correct as of the broadcast date noted above.]

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"First Class Jesus Style"
I lived in Texas for several years. While I was there I learned something about the stagecoach practices of the 19th century that I had never known before. It seems that back then, as well as now, they sold three different levels of tickets. They were first class, second class, and third class, with the price, of course, descending with each category. However the distinction between these tickets did not have to do with where you sat or how much you would eat or drink, but rather as to what was required of you in case of an emergency.

Remember now, in the 19th century most of the roads were not paved, and many of the hills were very steep, so that even two strong horses could hardly pull a full stagecoach. Therefore when they faced the emergency of a mud-bog or a steep incline, what it meant was if you had a first class ticket you got to stay on board, nothing was asked of you; you were in a position of privilege. If you had a second class ticket, you had to get off and walk around the mud, or walk up the hill to lighten the load. If you had a third class ticket which was the lowest of the categories, that meant you were obliged to get out and help the stagecoach driver either push the vehicle through the mud, or push it up the hill. It meant that if you were a third class passenger you were vulnerable to having to have to get "down and dirty," as we say today.

As I say, that was a new learning for me about the way stagecoaches were operated. However I must say that the principle in back of this was not new to me. Because as far back in history as we can ever record, the metaphor "first class" has always been associated with privilege, exemption from hardship, having other people do things for you, while "third class", at the bottom, has always been associated with having to do the menial task, and having as it were, to deal with the dirt.

Against that background, I realized one day what a true revolutionary Jesus of Nazareth really was, because he came into history and, by what he did and what he said, he took this hierarchy of values that has always been traditional wisdom, and literally turned it upside-down. He took first class, second class and third class, and literally stood it on its head.

Take for example what he did on the very last night of his life. He knew an ordeal was about to begin, and he very much wanted to get with the twelve men with whom he had shared so intimately, for one last farewell meal. So Jesus carefully arranged for a Passover dinner to be served in the Upper Room, and the thirteen of them trooped in just as the sun was going down, Jesus so wanting these to be meaningful moments, when suddenly a great problem developed. None of the disciples were willing to do the menial task of washing the feet of the others.

Now you need to realize in the first century, as in the 19th century, roads were unpaved, and most people wore open sandals, which meant before you could eat a meal in comfort, somehow the dirt on the feet had to be dealt with. In rich families, slaves did this task. In Jesus' circle, they usually swapped around with the different kinds of responsibilities. But on that particular day, the disciples were feeling very competitive. They had argued all that afternoon about who was going to be the greatest -- that is who was going to be first class, second class and third class. Therefore no one was in a mood to stoop down and do the task of washing another's feet.

And so we're told in the gospel of John, when they were at a seeming gridlock, nobody willing to do what needed to be done, lo and behold, the scripture says Jesus, knowing he came from God and was going to God, got up from the table, laid aside his garment, wrapped himself in a towel, and stooped over and did the work of a slave: he washed all of the feet of the disciples. And when he had finished and put on his garment again, he said, "Do you realize what I have done? Do you recognize that what the world calls greatness means lording it over other people, striving for privilege and exemption, but what I have demonstrated for you this night is that true greatness in my kingdom involves the willingness to be a servant, the willingness to do what needs to be done." In other words, first class in Jesus' hierarchy of values, is not a position of privilege, it is, rather, the willingness to serve others and to do whatever has to be done in order for the common good to be accomplished.

Now I realize this is revolutionary against the way we usually conceive things, but if you will simply look deeply into the heart of reality, there is such wisdom in these words and example of Jesus. Langdon Gielke learned this himself in a most unusual way. He graduated from Harvard in the middle of the 1930's. He believed, as so many did in that era, that education was the key to salvation; that if you simply taught people what was right and what was good, that they would automatically do it. So he went out to interior China, to teach in a private school. And he was there when World War II broke out and the Japanese conquered China and all of the allied citizens who were there on the mainland were gathered up and sent to a prison camp -- an old Presbyterian mission station called Shan-Tung Compound.

Now, they were not treated there like the Nazis treated the Jews, they were not inhumanly tortured, but 1500 American, British, Canadian, Dutch, French, and Australian citizens were suddenly thrust together in very crowded circumstances. The food supply was uncertain; there was lots of insecurity in the air. And young Gielke was amazed that people who had gone to China for humanitarian purposes - missionaries, teachers, social workers -- when their security was threatened, they reverted back to being utterly savage in their dealings with each other. It became every person for himself, a kind of reversion back to the jungle. He saw missionaries stealing food and hoarding it for their children, so that other people couldn't have it. In other words, fear had cast out love and the common good was absolutely lost.

There was one exception to this. There were a group of Dutch Roman Catholic monks who had gone to China to run a school. These were individuals who were deeply rooted in the Jesus reality. These were people who, like our Lord, knew that they came from God and were going to God, that their worth was secure from the hands of their creator, and they were the only ones who were free to do what needed to be done.

If there was extra help needed in the kitchen, it was a Dutch monk who always volunteered. If some repairs needed to be made to places where they lived, they freely and joyfully offered to do it. In other words, they were willing to do what had to be done. They understood what Jesus meant by being a first class human being: namely, it is the willingness to serve, to do what has to be done that is really so crucial. And I believe you will find that is a truth that endures right up to this moment. Ask any person who is a manager in business, "What quality above all do you need in your employees?" and that person will probably say, "I need someone with a serving heart. I need a person who, in a given situation is not thinking about being served, but rather a person who is willing to use his or her gifts in order to serve what needs to be done.

I once heard the personnel manager of a large national firm say that whenever a person joined the corps of executive training in his program, the first thing he tried to discern was "Is this a person who is intent on being something, or is this a person who is intent on doing something?" He said the person intent on being something is a person who doesn't have his or her ego needs met healthily, and therefore they're always using the job or using other people to enhance their sense of deficiency. He said this kind of person looks with a double vision at every problem. Instead of asking simply, "What needs to be done?" they ask the question, "How can I use this situation to get ahead personally?" Therefore these people can't make hard decisions, they're incapable of sacrificing or risking. He says if this kind of person moves into the decision-making hierarchy, it could cost the company millions of dollars over the course of their career.

However, he said the person who wants to do something is an individual who does have his or her ego needs met healthily. They have themselves off their hands, and therefore they can look at a problem and ask the single question, "What needs to be done here?" They're capable of sacrifice; they're capable of making the hard decision. He said, "These people, rare as they may be, are absolute jewels, and to identify them and to move them up quickly in the organization is the most important thing that I can do."

When I heard that man speaking in what sounded like secular terms, I heard echoes of that wisdom of Jesus centuries ago, that true greatness, in terms of our human species does not consist of trying to be prominent. It doesn't consist in being exempt from hardship, of always wanting other people to serve you. First class humanity according to Jesus is that willingness to serve, that willingness to let our gifts and our powers be invested in the needs and the difficulties of other people. You and I come from the same source, as did Jesus. We come from God, and are going to God. Our worth has already been given to us by the grace of our creator, therefore we can out of that sense of the grace of being -- we can get ourselves off our hands and instead of being people who are always concentrated on being something, we can become free to do something. And therefore to be part of the answer and not part of the problem.

In a lovely little book called Chicken Soup for the Soul, there's a story about a man who came out right after Christmas from his office and when he got out to his car he found a little boy from a nearby project looking with great admiration at this new vehicle. The little boy said, "Does this car belong to you?"

And the man said, "Yes, in fact my brother gave it to me for Christmas. I've just gotten it." With that the little boy's eyes widened.

He said, "You mean to say that somebody gave it to you? And you didn't have to pay anything for it? That it came without any strings attached?"

And the man said, "That's right. My brother gave it to me as a gift."

With that the little boy let out a long sigh and said, "Boy, I would really like..."

And the man fully expected the boy to say, "I would like to have a brother like that, who would give me such a beautiful car," but instead the man was amazed when the little boy said, "Wow! I would like to be that kind of brother. I wish I could give that kind of car to my little brother."

Somehow that child had gotten in on the secret of Jesus. He understood that true first-classness, in terms of reality, consists of what we can give to others, not concentrating on what others can give to us. Therefore, I would say because each of us and all of us come from God and are going to God, because our worth has already been secured by the gracious creator of all things, each of us can be first class, which means we can be the servant of the needs of others. Having ourselves off our hands, we can give ourselves in generosity and in help. I invite you, with me, to go first class, Jesus style.

Interview with John Claypool
Interviewed by Orley Herron

Orley Herron: John, we're both fellow Kentuckians, and we both share memories of a wonderful man by the name of Bill Cody. You spoke at his memorial service just recently, and I was touched with what you said. Here's a man that went from being a Baptist leader to Episcopalian leader and I wish you would just talk about his life as it relates to your sermon today.

John Claypool: Boy, if I ever knew anybody who had a serving heart, it was Bill Cody. He was so willing to do whatever needed to be done. He was the director of a retreat center for several years, and I have seen Bill mop the floors, I've seen him serve food. Wherever there was a need, he never felt that he was above it, or that the task that needed to be done was beneath him. And he always had this incredible, high regard for everybody that he worked with. He never made you feel that you were working for him. He never made me feel that anything that I asked was an inconvenience. He was so magnificently hospitable, an open person, had a great sense of humor -- I can hear him laughing now. He could find the extraordinary back to the most ordinary circumstances. And I watched him grow across the years, and he deepened in his Christian walk and he became something of a 20th-century mystic, I would say. He was instrumental in building a house called the Quiet House. It's modeled after a Russian Poustinia, which is a little hermitage that the Russian Orthodox Christians built. And he encouraged people to go and stay in this Quiet House and get in touch with that Spirit that is in us all but we're so busy and so distracted that we don't often hear. I went there once for a week, and it was an absolutely magnificent experience. Bill was my spiritual director and would gently and lovingly guide me to let go more and more distractions and to let in the Spirit of Christ.

But what I was trying to say today about first class humanity is in Jesus' eyes, and Bill Cody embodied it beautifully. He was never looking for prominence and position over people, but he was really willing to deal with the dirt, and to use the stage coach analogy, he would have been the first one to get out and get down in the mud, and he'd have pushed that vehicle through a bog or pushed it up a hill. He was not into being served as much as he really found the joy of being a servant.

And that is so needed in our culture today, because we think of ourselves as victims, that we don't have any power, or we have this sense of entitlement, that other people owe us a great deal. And the truth is we do have power. And the best thing we can do with our power is to use it to serve and to heal and to bless others. I am always going to be better for having touched the life of Bill Cody.

Herron: Thank you John, and someday we'll be with him again.

Claypool: Amen.
    


 

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