Zebedee’s Wanna-bes
Homily delivered by the Rev. Fr.
Tony Hutchinson, Ph.D., SCP
Sung Choral Eucharist at 9:00
a.m.
Twenty-First Sunday After
Pentecost, Proper 24B
Parish Church of Trinity,
Ashland (OR)
October 18, 2015
Isaiah
53:4-12 Psalm
91:9-16 Hebrews
5:1-10 Mark
10:35-45
God, Take away our hearts of stone and give us hearts of flesh. Amen.
God, Take away our hearts of stone and give us hearts of flesh. Amen.
Today’s
Gospel has the two sons of Zebedee, James and John, ask Jesus “will you give us
whatever we ask?” These two, along with
St. Peter, were the inside group that shared all of Jesus’s most personal
moments. Elsewhere, these two are called
“sons of thunder,” meaning, variously, “noisy children” or “angry
children.” Clearly motivated but also
somewhat ambitious, they are at the heart of several Gospel stories where the
disciples argue about who is most important.
Jesus won’t give them a blank check, and asks, “Just what are you
thinking about asking?” The reply: seat us in honored places, one at your right
and one on your left, when you reign.
The Chinese have a proverb about being careful what you wish for. Jesus seems to have a similar idea in mind when he says, “you have no idea what you’re asking. Are you able to drink the cup I drink, or be immersed in the waters I will go beneath?” The “cup of God’s wrath” was a symbol of the bitter and befuddling drunkenness experienced by a person made to drink whatever God sent him. Similarly, “sinking into the flood,” or “floundering in deep water or the mire” was a symbol of the afflictions some felt God had sent upon them. Jesus is thinking of his own likely bad end: you want to be near me, but that means you’ll have to suffer like me. Can you take it?” “Oh yes, Jesus, it’s just what we want!” they reply innocently, having no idea of how ironic their words will appear once they have deserted Jesus at the first sign of trouble during Holy Week.
The fact is, following Jesus means sharing Jesus’ sufferings. It means being present for and with Jesus in his passion, from the garden and on to the cross and tomb. But it also means living with the consequences of following his teachings and manner of life: the craziness and utter counter-cultural rejection of the world and its power and pomp, and acting as if God is already fully in charge, right here and now.
The Jesus Seminar and some more liberal historical Jesus scholars say that this story cannot describe words of the historical Jesus because there are too many post-Easter insights and language. But here I am with Fr. John Meier: it is hard to see an early church making this story up. For one thing, it seems to prophecy the martyrdom of James and John, but everyone knew that John did not die a martyr’s death. And the use of the image of the cup and the immersion are markedly pre-Easter: following Jesus means accepting the same sufferings he accepts, and gives no assurance of a special place in the Kingdom.
The issue is acceptance. The issue is not blaming God for our suffering. We often go to God with questions: why am I suffering this? Why is my loved one in such pain? More often than not, we get no answers from God. But we do get God’s presence: Immanuel, God with us. Comfort and strength, not answers, are given to us in the face of mystery and horror. And that is precisely because Jesus is there on the cross with us.
Accept the bad stuff that comes your way, Jesus says. But don’t blame it on God and resent him for that. Let us trust and love God all the more. Addressing the ambition of Zebedee’s wannabe sons, He says being number one is not so great: the rulers among the gentiles “lord it over” others. They “use power” on people. But the first will be last and the last first. Such “glory” and “honor” is not what is in store for us who are close to Jesus: with him, we must be a slave to others, wash their feet, serve at their beck and call, and smile and love it. Like the people of Israel in today's reading from Second Isaiah, we must become servants, and willing to suffer for others. That is what Jesus sees as his calling, and he calls us there too. And put aside any hopes that this will buy you a place of honor near God. “That’s above my pay grade,” says Jesus. “Who knows where God will place any of us?”
C.S. Lewis once wrote, “I didn’t go to religion to make me happy. I always knew a bottle of Port would do that. If you want a religion to make you feel really comfortable, I certainly don’t recommend Christianity.”
That might not be a comforting vision, but it is true vision. It is only in letting go of control that we gain anything approaching influence. It is only in letting go of false aspirations and affectations that we can find ourselves. This is a matter not of comfort, but of truth.
In the name of Christ, Amen
The Chinese have a proverb about being careful what you wish for. Jesus seems to have a similar idea in mind when he says, “you have no idea what you’re asking. Are you able to drink the cup I drink, or be immersed in the waters I will go beneath?” The “cup of God’s wrath” was a symbol of the bitter and befuddling drunkenness experienced by a person made to drink whatever God sent him. Similarly, “sinking into the flood,” or “floundering in deep water or the mire” was a symbol of the afflictions some felt God had sent upon them. Jesus is thinking of his own likely bad end: you want to be near me, but that means you’ll have to suffer like me. Can you take it?” “Oh yes, Jesus, it’s just what we want!” they reply innocently, having no idea of how ironic their words will appear once they have deserted Jesus at the first sign of trouble during Holy Week.
The fact is, following Jesus means sharing Jesus’ sufferings. It means being present for and with Jesus in his passion, from the garden and on to the cross and tomb. But it also means living with the consequences of following his teachings and manner of life: the craziness and utter counter-cultural rejection of the world and its power and pomp, and acting as if God is already fully in charge, right here and now.
The Jesus Seminar and some more liberal historical Jesus scholars say that this story cannot describe words of the historical Jesus because there are too many post-Easter insights and language. But here I am with Fr. John Meier: it is hard to see an early church making this story up. For one thing, it seems to prophecy the martyrdom of James and John, but everyone knew that John did not die a martyr’s death. And the use of the image of the cup and the immersion are markedly pre-Easter: following Jesus means accepting the same sufferings he accepts, and gives no assurance of a special place in the Kingdom.
The issue is acceptance. The issue is not blaming God for our suffering. We often go to God with questions: why am I suffering this? Why is my loved one in such pain? More often than not, we get no answers from God. But we do get God’s presence: Immanuel, God with us. Comfort and strength, not answers, are given to us in the face of mystery and horror. And that is precisely because Jesus is there on the cross with us.
Accept the bad stuff that comes your way, Jesus says. But don’t blame it on God and resent him for that. Let us trust and love God all the more. Addressing the ambition of Zebedee’s wannabe sons, He says being number one is not so great: the rulers among the gentiles “lord it over” others. They “use power” on people. But the first will be last and the last first. Such “glory” and “honor” is not what is in store for us who are close to Jesus: with him, we must be a slave to others, wash their feet, serve at their beck and call, and smile and love it. Like the people of Israel in today's reading from Second Isaiah, we must become servants, and willing to suffer for others. That is what Jesus sees as his calling, and he calls us there too. And put aside any hopes that this will buy you a place of honor near God. “That’s above my pay grade,” says Jesus. “Who knows where God will place any of us?”
C.S. Lewis once wrote, “I didn’t go to religion to make me happy. I always knew a bottle of Port would do that. If you want a religion to make you feel really comfortable, I certainly don’t recommend Christianity.”
That might not be a comforting vision, but it is true vision. It is only in letting go of control that we gain anything approaching influence. It is only in letting go of false aspirations and affectations that we can find ourselves. This is a matter not of comfort, but of truth.
In the name of Christ, Amen
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