[Note: This sermon expounds Matthew 19:30 and Mark 10:31. Delivered 25 December 1980, Montreal — Christmas Day.]
As I pondered what message the Lord would have me share on Christmas Day, I found that the passage we were in any case about to study in our systematic exposition was perfectly suited to the occasion. For the past three weeks we have been in Mark 10:21–31, the passage about the rich young man who desired eternal life but could not pay the price. Let us read the whole passage one more time to bring those of you who were not present on previous Sundays up to the context, before we come to the last verse. The rich young man asked the Lord what he must do to inherit eternal life. He was earnest — he knelt before Jesus, a significant gesture of humility for a person of wealth and position. The Lord told him to keep the commandments, then to sell his possessions, give to the poor, and follow him. His face fell, and he went away sorrowful. The Lord then said to his disciples that it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom. The disciples were exceedingly astonished and asked, who then can be saved? The Lord replied: with men it is impossible, but not with God. Peter said, "Lo, we have left everything and followed you." The Lord promised a hundredfold in this present age — houses, brothers, sisters, mothers, children, lands, with persecutions — and in the age to come, eternal life. And then: "But many that are first will be last, and the last first."
Now, what does this saying mean? Having expounded the teaching of the Lord Jesus for many years, I must conclude that no man ever spoke like this man. I have read the Chinese philosophers, Confucius and Mencius; I have read the Greek philosophers, Aristotle and Plato; I have read modern thinkers. There is no comparison. Even the temple police who went to arrest Jesus and came back empty-handed could only say: "No man ever spoke like this man." This saying in particular — "many that are first will be last, and the last first" — appears not only here but also in the parallel passages in Matthew and Luke, and in Luke 13:30 as a conclusion to a teaching about who will be saved. And archaeologists digging at Oxyrhynchus in Egypt found it in a very ancient papyrus manuscript, Logion 3 of Oxyrhynchus Papyrus 654, with an additional phrase: "and few shall find it" — confirming that the Lord is speaking about the narrow path of salvation that few will find.
Three things must be said about this phrase. The first is that it has to do with salvation. However we understand "first" and "last," we are speaking about who will and will not inherit eternal life. The second is that these words expose, with one incisive stroke, the fundamental structure of this whole world system. "First" and "last" are comparative terms — they exist only in a competitive framework. And this world is by nature competitive. In school you are ranked first, second, third, last. In careers there are those at the top and those at the bottom. In sport there is gold, silver, bronze, and then those who don't even figure. In business there are the winners and those they have crushed. Every department of life is organised around this competition, and competition develops a mentality: I win, you lose. It is what is sometimes called the killer instinct — either I knock him down or he knocks me down. This is the world's structure, and it develops pride in the winners and bitterness and desperation in the losers.
The third and central point is that the Lord Jesus is announcing a revolution. First becoming last, and last becoming first, is a turning upside down of everything. This is not an external economic revolution — communism tried that and simply reproduced the same class distinctions under new names, because the heart of man did not change. The revolution the Lord Jesus announces is internal: a change in the heart, in the attitude, in the entire direction of a life. This revolution happens in one of two ways. Either you bring yourself low voluntarily — you repent, you humble yourself before God, you choose to put God first and yourself last — and God exalts you. Or, if you refuse, God will bring you low at the judgment. As 2 Kings 21:13 puts it: because you exalted yourself, God will wipe you clean like a dish and turn you upside down. In Acts 17:6, the apostles are described as "men who have turned the world upside down" — that is what genuine Christianity does.
And finally, the most beautiful thing about Christmas is not simply that the Lord Jesus declared this revolution — it is that he lived it in his own person. He was the first — equal with God, Lord of lords, as Philippians 2 declares. And he became the last. He was not born as an earthly king or governor; he was born of a peasant woman, in a village, in a manger, among animals. All his life he sought no glory. When the crowds wanted to make him king, he refused. He went all the way down to the cross. From first to last. And then God raised him from the last to the first: the name above every name, before whom every knee will bow. I will read to you a text I received this Christmas which expresses this beautifully. It is called "One Solitary Life."
Jesus was born in an obscure village, the child of a peasant woman. He grew up in another village, where he worked in a carpenter's shop until he was thirty. For three years he was an itinerant preacher. He never wrote a book. He never held an office. He never had a family. He never went to college. He never visited any great city. He never traveled two hundred miles from the place where he was born. He had no credentials but himself. He was only thirty-three when the tide of public opinion turned against him. His friends ran away. He was turned over to his enemies and went through the mockery of a trial. He was nailed to a cross in the company of two thieves. While dying, his executioners gambled for his clothing — the only property he had on earth. When he was dead, he was laid in a borrowed grave. Nineteen centuries have come and gone. And today he is the central figure of the human race and the leader of mankind's progress. All the armies that ever marched, all the navies that ever sailed, all the kings that ever reigned, put together, have not affected the life of man on this earth as much as that one solitary life. That is the power of a life that goes from first to last. That is what Christmas is about.
Let us now be quiet before God in prayer. Thank you.
# "But Many That Are First Will Be Last" — Matthew 19:30; Mark 10:31 (Part B) — Class, Communism, and the Inner Revolution
[Note: This is Part B of the sermon on Matthew 19:30 and Mark 10:31, continuing directly from Part A. Delivered 25 December 1980, Montreal — Christmas Day.]
Competition pervades every corner of life. When shops cut prices by twenty-five percent, the one next door cuts by thirty. When one company cuts by thirty, its rival cuts by thirty-five. In sport, in education, in careers — everywhere, the entire structure of society is built on the logic of first and last, winner and loser. Competition does develop some qualities: it pushes for higher standards of excellence, and there is something to be said for that. But it also develops rivalry, aggression, pride in those who win, and a pervasive attitude toward other people that is the direct opposite of love. The desire to come first means I must keep you from coming first — which means in the end I must knock you down in order to get up. From competitive sport to competitive business, the killer instinct is the same. This is the structure of the fallen world.
The communists recognised this problem. They saw that a society stratified into classes produces class conflict, and they wanted a classless society. But having failed to grasp that the problem is in the heart of man, not in the economic structure, they produced under different labels exactly the same class divisions they sought to abolish. Having spent seven years in China under the communists, I saw it clearly: the party member became an elite class with special privileges. You changed the name but not the reality. Laws cannot change man's heart. An economic system cannot change man's heart. Only God can change the heart, and that is what the Lord Jesus is saying here. The revolution he announces is not an external rearrangement but an internal transformation.
The meaning of becoming a Christian is precisely this inner revolution. It means that the whole direction of your life turns around. Whereas before you lived for yourself — putting yourself first in every calculation, treating everyone else as second, third, fourth — now you are willing to put yourself last. This is what repentance means: a change of mind, a change of direction. And to be willing to go from first to last requires real faith in God, because in this world, the one who goes low gets stepped on. Only a person who genuinely trusts God to vindicate them, to exalt them in his own time, can afford to humble themselves in a world that rewards only assertiveness. That is why the Lord says "with men it is impossible, but not with God" — without the transforming power of God, no one can make this change of direction.
Consider how faith connects to the seemingly simple matters of social status and money. Why would you take a lower seat at a feast? Because you trust God to exalt you. Without that faith, it is simply self-destructive behaviour in a competitive world. Why would you give generously to those who cannot repay you, looking for your reward only at the resurrection of the just? Because you trust that God keeps accounts. Without faith in God's justice, such generosity is either naive or impossible. The Lord's teaching on the first and the last is not social advice for the occasional banquet — it is a description of a whole way of life that is only possible for a person who has genuine, working faith in the living God.
The alternative for those who want to reduce stress without becoming Christian has been described by the medical researcher Professor Hans Selye of the University of Montreal, who spent a lifetime studying stress. In his book Stress Without Distress, he concludes that stress is rooted in selfishness, in the ego-driven need to come first, and the only remedy is to change the direction of one's life. His proposed solution is what he calls "egotistic altruism" — doing good to others for the ultimately self-centred reason that they will then like you, praise you, protect you, and form a buffer against the hardships of life. It is, as he frankly admits, still selfishness, just deployed in a less damaging direction. This is very close to the Dale Carnegie approach: win friends and influence people by being nice to them, so that they benefit you in return. It works, within limits. It will reduce stress and help you get along in this world. But it offers no path to eternal life, because it never escapes self-interest; it merely redirects it. The Lord calls us to something entirely different: genuine self-giving, expecting nothing in return here and now, trusting only in God.
Now, above all, here is the beauty of Christmas: the Lord Jesus did not only declare this revolution, he enacted it in his own person. He who was first — equal with God, Lord of lords — became last. Not born as an earthly ruler, but as a peasant's child, in a village, among animals. Not seeking glory: when the crowds wanted to make him king, he refused. His whole life was given for others; you cannot think of a single thing he ever did for himself. He went all the way down to the cross. That is what it looks like to go from first to last. And God raised him: from the last to the first, the name above every name, before whom every knee shall bow.
I will close with a text I received this Christmas, called "One Solitary Life." Jesus was born in an obscure village, the child of a peasant woman. He grew up in another village, where he worked in a carpenter's shop until he was thirty. For three years he was an itinerant preacher. He never wrote a book, held an office, had a family, went to college, or visited any great city. He never traveled two hundred miles from his birthplace. He had no credentials but himself. At thirty-three, the tide of public opinion turned against him; his friends ran away; he was nailed to a cross between two thieves. His executioners gambled for his clothing — his only earthly property. He was laid in a borrowed grave. Nineteen centuries have come and gone. And today he is the central figure of the human race. All the armies, navies, and kings in history put together have not affected the life of man on this earth as much as that one solitary life. That is the wonder of a life that goes from first to last. Are you willing to let Christ make that revolution in you?
Let us now be quiet before God in prayer. Thank you.