Three times Jesus tells those who are journeying with him to Jerusalem that he will suffer, die, and rise after three days. Each prediction widens the irony between hearers of the gospels like us, who know how Jesus’ story turns out, and disciples within the narrative like James and John, who don’t have a clue who Jesus really is and what following Jesus will demand of them. In Mark’s gospel, Jesus’ inner circle of disciples — Peter, James, and John — seem as unenlightened about the meaning of discipleship as any people in the crowds who see Jesus for the first time.
Despite Jesus forewarning James and John to the costs of discipleship, they have their own image of who he is fixed in their minds. The two brothers can imagine only the glory of following the messiah — the victories, the status, the revival of the nation. What they ask for are the top positions in Jesus’ kingdom at his right hand and left hand.
Their request would raise them above the other disciples in status. Perhaps they will be ordering business cards with raised, embossed lettering. Perhaps they will receive medals for their chests and plaques for their walls. Status in Jesus’ glorious messianic kingdom commands their minds and impels their loyalty.
They imagine sharing a cup of victory, not of suffering. But Jesus is not the messiah that James, John, and the people of Israel expect. The brothers are right about themselves, however. They can and do keep the commitment they brashly make, but only after Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection, which transforms their vision and empowers their commitment.
- What are your spiritual ambitions?
- To what have you said a brash yes and only later discovered it demanded more than you anticipated?
The irony of James and John saying, “We can,” is obvious in Mark’s gospel. They do the opposite. They forsake Jesus when he gets arrested and flee with all of Jesus’ men disciples except Peter. Peter follows until he denies that he even knows Jesus in the high priest’s courtyard.
When following becomes life-threatening, neither James and John nor the others who are indignant at their ambition stay the course. Their commitment evaporates. They shrink from drinking the cup Jesus is about to drink. Mark wants us to recognize that Jesus’ first disciples grow into their commitment as we can.
At every eucharist we drink the cup that Jesus drank. We brashly say amen, this is the lifeblood of Christ poured out for us. It becomes part of us, a commitment to live into each day.
- To what do you commit when at Mass you drink the cup that Jesus drank?
In Sunday’s gospel Jesus calls his disciples together when he hears the rest complaining about James and John seeking status. He defines himself as one who serves, who gives his life to redeem all. Jesus challenges his disciples to see they are following a servant, who wants to gather a community of equals for whom serving the rest is the most important activity. Jesus’ instruction to his disciples continues to challenge us to service rather than status.
Jesus does not claim the power to name those on his right and left. He is the servant of the Father. Perhaps there are no special places in God’s kin*dom and at God’s banquet table.
Those who wish to act special and try to lord or lady it over others have missed the point of discipleship. The great ones serve others and have little concern for their status as great or special. In a community of equals, the Christian ideal, all are mutually servants of one another.
- Whose lives challenge you to live gospel values rather than work for social status?
With voting rights in jeopardy, Sister Barbara looked forward to going to Selma for the 50th Anniversary. “Attempts to negate the gains of the Voting Rights Act fueled the importance of reminding the nation that we continue to struggle for justice and peace for all,” she says.
“I was heartened to see so many families with small children, babies in arms and strollers, persons in wheelchairs — all ages, all races, and ethnicities. The energy was electric.
“Local dignitaries spoke as well as Congressman John Lewis, one of my heroes. Sunday afternoon was the annual ritual of the walk across the Edmund Pettus Bridge. People carried the banners of their groups; several had on ‘Selma’ tee shirts; youth in African garb drummed and danced. I had a burst of energy as I finally set foot on the bridge and made it across once again.
“In 1965 people of good will responded not because of a political party or persuasion but because of their beliefs and a higher calling to recognize the dignity of all persons. Their actions make a plea for WEness.”
- What is the value of the ritual crossing of the bridge each year?
- How has its meaning changed over the years?
- What can we do to insure the human dignity of all?