James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came to Jesus and said to him, “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.” He replied, “What do you wish me to do for you?” They answered him, “Grant that in your glory we may sit one at your right and the other at your left.” Jesus said to them, “You do not know what you are asking. Can you drink the cup that I drink or be baptized with the baptism with which I am baptized?” They said to him, “We can.” Jesus said to them, “The cup that I drink, you will drink, and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized; but to sit at my right or at my left is not mine to give but is for those for whom it has been prepared.” When the ten heard this, they became indignant at James and John. Jesus summoned them and said to them, “You know that those who are recognized as rulers over the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones make their authority over them felt. But it shall not be so among you. Rather, whoever wishes to be great among you will be your servant; and whoever wishes to be first among you will be the slave of all. For the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many.” (Mark 10.35-45)
As we have learned over the last several weeks, Jesus predicted his suffering and death three times as he and his disciples made their way to Jerusalem, the place where his predictions will be fulfilled in his ignominious crucifixion. In the two previous predictions, we have seen how his prediction is immediately followed by his disciples’ blindness and deafness to what he has said.
In the first instance, Peter rebukes Jesus for making such an ominous prediction. In the second instance, the disciples argue back and forth over which one of them is the greatest in his coterie of followers. And today, we hear the disciples’ response to his third prediction. Two of them, the brothers James and John, brazenly ask for the places of prominence in his future kingdom, an audacious act that results in the other ten becoming indignant at the brothers, no doubt not appreciating their one-upmanship.
If we step back, we get a very clear picture of what Mark is doing in telling the story in the way that he does. At the start of the journey to Jerusaelm, Jesus heals a blind man whose “sight was restored and he saw everyone clearly.” The first prediction follows. And here, after the third prediction and the disciples’ response to it, Jesus will heal the blind man Bartmaeus who says to Jesus, “I want to see.”
So, the healing of two blind men become bookends to the three instances of the disciples’ own blindness to what Jesus is telling them, their reactions grossly misreading his prediction of imminent suffering and death. And, as we see again today, each time Jesus must attempt to teach his disciples on the fundamentals of his message and his mission, their blindness glaringly apparent in their reaction to his prediction of suffering and death.
In short, they’re blind as bats and just don’t get it, even after Jesus attempts to heal their blindness by his instructions to them. It will take a lot more to get their eyes opened. They’re about to enter a war zone and they’re ill-prepared for what awaits them. Little wonder, then, that they run for cover at the first sign of danger, leaving their Teacher to face his accusers alone and without their support.
Obviously, the instructions that Jesus offers after each prediction is critically important, even if the Twelve fail to grasp its importance at the time. His instruction after the third prediction, like his teaching after the previous two, offers them a fundamental lesson in discipleship, one that they habitually fail to grasp, reminding us that we run the same risk of failing to be fully and faithfully the disciples that Jesus wants.
As we see in the passage today, the lesson focuses on the notion of rank and honor, something that seems to have been a sore spot for the Twelve for some time. They continually appear to haggle over their self-importance and their overall importance in Jesus’ mission, the two brothers James and John being the boldest of the bunch, telling Jesus to his face, “We want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.”
Apparently, their chutzpah is something that embarrasses the other evangelist Matthew so much that he tones it down when he tells the story in his gospel, having the mother of the two be the one to ask Jesus to give her sons the places of honor in his kingdom, in this way shining up the pair of disciples. Mark doesn’t allow the two to hide behind their mother’s skirt, but states straightforwardly that they’re the ones seeking special honors and privileges.
Their brazenness is amplified when Jesus asks them, “Are you able to drink from the cup that I drink?” Without hesitation, the pair answer, “We can,” their words betraying their blindness and their ultimate betrayal of their teacher. In a short while, two thieves will be beside Jesus, one on his left and the other on his right, crucified alongside him, the two brothers nowhere in sight, hiding behind locked doors far from the gruesome sight of Golgotha.
When the brothers lay bare their motives, asking to be seated at his right and his left, they are simply reflecting the cultural norms of the times, particularly as they applied to meal times. When a banquet was held and the attendees were seated on cushions around the perimeter of the room, small tables placed in front of the diners, the place of honor was at the head table, as it is even now. There, the host sat and it was considered a special privilege for the people who had seats on the left and the right of the host.
According to the etiquette of the times, order of importance of persons could be detected at a glance, those nearest the host the most important, those furthest from the host the least important. We see the same dynamics at play when Rabbi Jesus instructs his disciples not to seek the highest place at table, but instead to seek the lowest. He’s about to make the same point here. But first, he challenges the two disciples, putting before them the raw truth of their request, something they apparently are blind to. He’s about to be strung up on a cross, not seated at a banquet table, and the places to his right and his left are for people on crosses, not on cushions.
If anything, their answer to Jesus, “we can,” confirms their cowardice and challenges our own resolve to be faithful followers of his. Whenever we agreed to the call to be a disciple, whether at our baptism or at some later point in our lives, we knowingly gave Jesus the same answer to the question that James and John gave him. “Can you drink from the cup that I drink?” And our answer was, “We can.”
So, I suppose we should ask ourselves how that is going for us. Is our answer “we can” any more truthful than the answer that those brazen brothers gave Jesus? When Mark wrote his gospel, he wasn’t writing it for the Twelve. Their time had passed. He wrote it for those who claimed to be followers of the Lord Jesus in the here and now and he wanted them to prove themselves to be made of the right stuff, something the Twelve failed to do again and again in this gospel.
And the question continues to be asked with each passing generation. Can you drink from the cup that I drink? Rather than give the same unserious and cocksure answer that the brothers gave, we may want to pause before providing an answer to the Lord Jesus, determining just what an answer of “we can” really means when we say the words, particularly when looked at from the challenge that Jesus gives the Twelve.
By any measure, the teaching that follows the exchange between Jesus and the two brothers emphasizes how those who follow Jesus live in a world in a way that is vastly different from the way that other people live in the world. That is found in that singular directive that Rabbi Jesus gives them, one that should haunt us even to this day, when he says to the Twelve, “It shall not be so among you.”
The measure of our faithfulness to Jesus is encoded in that one command. When Jesus issues it, he uses the example of those in authority who lord it over other people, making their authority felt. The ways of the powerful are well-known to the disciples, all of whom are poor peasants or on the lower rungs of society. They have known the bite of the powerful, people who put themselves above others and who do not hesitate to make their place of importance known to anyone and everyone.
“But it shall not be so among you.” In that one sharp rebuke, Jesus wipes away any ambitiousness or attempt at greatness by his would-be followers, instructing them that they are not to compete or compare themselves with others as people in the world habitually do, a one-upmanship that regularly elevates a few and lowers the many.
And what should followers of the Lord Jesus be doing instead? Just the opposite of what everyone else in the world is doing. With the request of the brothers still fresh in his mind and with the other ten stewing with jealousy at the brothers for stepping all over them to get to the places of honor, Jesus smothers the desire for self-importance among his followers, telling the Twelve, “Whoever wishes to be great among you will be your servant and whoever wishes to be first among you will be the slave of all.”
That’s the gold standard of discipleship for Rabbi Jesus–serving others, not surpassing others; celebrating others, not competing against others; raising up others, not belittling others. Taking the least assuming and least important role in society, that of being a servant, Jesus elevated it to the highest rung in his mission, calling those who follow him to define themselves by their service to others, not by their elevation over others.
As most of us probably know, Henri Nouwen was a famous writer who taught at Notre Dame University, at Yale Divinity School, and at Harvard Divinity School. He was at the peak of his success when he turned his back on all the acclaim and became a volunteer at the L’Arche community in Ontario, Canada, a residential facility for young adults with severe intellectual and developmental disabilities. He would spend the remainder of his life as one of the lower rung staff members, feeding, cleaning, and clothing the residents who could do none of these acts by themselves.
On one occasion, Nouwen went to the hospital to visit a young man named Trevor who was one of the residents at L’Arche. The hospital officials were so excited to learn that the famous priest and writer would be visiting them that they asked if they could host a special luncheon in the Golden Room, the executive dining room, to honor him.
When Nouwen arrived at the luncheon, he couldn’t find Trevor. When he asked after him, the other attendees answered that patients were never allowed to eat in the Golden Room with the higher-ups of the hospital. Surprised and rankled by the mistreatment of Trevor, Nouwen answered that he would leave if Trevor wasn’t allowed to eat with them.
So someone went and found Trevor and brought him to the Golden Room. As the hospital officials gathered around Nouwen to try to get his attention, Trevor stood up and began singing. The hospital officials were clearly bothered and ill at ease. Nouwen smiled when he looked at Trevor and without a second thought he began to belt out the same song, the two of them one in song and one in soul.
Today, the example of James and John serves as a good reminder to the rest of us that following Jesus is not about looking out for ourselves, but about looking out for others. It’s not about racing to the top but about staying at the bottom with the least and the last. It’s not about having everyone at our beck and call, but about being at everyone else’s beck and call. Jesus starkly shows the Twelve the contrast and he asks the same of us who want to follow his ways. Summed up simply, he’s telling us, “Get over yourself. Then, come follow me.”
–Jeremy Myers
Sunday Brunch 