Pick up your school alumni magazine
and turn to the “Class Notes” section.
Before you have a chance to say,
"gee, she sure changed!"
you might just find yourself
tumbling down a rabbit hole
and thrust into a highly competitive
jousting tournament.
Superlatives abound--both verbally and visually.
The biggest wedding.
The grandest vacation.
The most prestigious firm.
You will read
Updates
thinly veiled as mile markers of success.
Competitive parenting
cleverly disguised as news of offspring.
Aspirational longings
masquerading as “catching up.”
World class photoshop images
passing for lived reality.
Our culture,
consumed wholesale
and without filter or antidote,
can lead to the soul-crushing, ego-busting belief
that “enough”
is never enough.
That “more”
is always more.
That Second Place
is just the first person
in a long line of losers.
That the view from the top
is the only view worth seeing.
This mindset fosters warped vision,
stunted outlooks,
a thirst for fame
and a hunger for “things”
that can never quite be filled.
In our Gospel today,
James and John,
like any highly motivated employees,
look around,
assess their status and standing—
(complete their their self-eval, if you will)
and figure,
“There’s always room at the top.”
So they ask to sit with Jesus in his glory--
one at his right
and one at his left.
They were clearly a pair of disciples
with ambition and drive.
Team members whose direct approach—
that is,
go to the Boss and ask for a promotion—
could be considered smart;
savvy;
good business.
But what happens next
reminds us
that the Church isn’t Business
and Jesus is no ordinary boss.
Jesus applies the brakes to “drive”
and turns ambition sideways.
“You don’t know what you’re asking!”
He replies.
Then Jesus asks,
“Can you drink the cup of suffering
that I am going to drink?”
Suffering?!
We’re talking glory Lord!
Hosannahs!
Miracles!
Worshipping crowds!
Power
over Princes and Principalities!
The Messiah coming in triumph
to claim his throne!
And yet, the question on the table is,
Can you drink the cup of suffering
that I am going to drink?
Can you wait with me
through the dark night of Gethsemane?
Can you remain faithful
as your lives are betrayed for silver?
Can you stand with me
in Pilate’s courtyard?
Can you walk beside me to Calvary?
Can you enter the stillness of the tomb
and listen for the sounds of resurrection?
Can you drink this cup?
They hadn’t learned
yet.
They didn’t know
yet.
Jesus was teaching them
that the life of discipleship involves suffering
because life itself is often hard.
Following Jesus is not a
“Pass Go and Collect $200”
or “Get out of Jail Free” card.
Faith doesn’t inoculate us against suffering
or offer immunity from pain.
James and John wanted discipleship
served with a side of privilege.
They wanted a bit of room at the top.
Jesus’ response is a terse reminder
that in his world,
“privilege” may look a little different
because the view from the top
always includes a cross.
Blessed are the poor.
Blessed are those who suffer.
Take up your cross and follow me.
Whoever wishes to be great among you
will be your servant.
Whoever wishes to be first will be last.
Now, your personal journey to the empty tomb
might not include crucifixion,
a trial,
or a literal crown of thorns.
But most of us,
one time or another,
have been betrayed by someone we love.
Most of us will face illness,
loss,
the pain of rejection,
the embarrassment of failure,
the desperate need of forgiveness.
Most of us,
one time or another,
will be handed an overflowing cup
filled with sorrow and pain.
The difference discipleship makes,
is that we will never drink it alone.
Whatever terrors we face,
Whatever loneliness stalks us,
Whatever sorrow brings us to our knees,
Jesus has endured it first.
Wherever we go,
Jesus has been there first.
On this journey Jesus walks beside us,
loving us,
guiding us,
saving us.
“Will you drink this cup?”
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