What can I do to make you feel better?

Sermon on Mark 10, 35-45

These two young men are truly fierce and spirited followers of Jesus. James and John, the two whom Jesus elsewhere calls the “Sons of Thunder”. They are young, they know where they stand and what is right and wrong. They have chosen the good side. The journey with Jesus over their father’s lucrative fishing business. The adventure over stability, touring the country with just what they can carry over a roof over their heads. They have given up everything just like Jesus asked them. Two men who could have stayed rich, just like the other guy from last week’s Gospel. 

James and John went all in. Once they understood who Jesus was, they were his greatest believers, admirers, and fighters. Remember the story, where they ask Jesus to rain down heavenly fire on a Samaritan village? Because it refuses Jesus its hospitality? They don’t just know what’s the right thing to do. They also get really upset when others don’t get it. Other people’s ignorance upsets them, there is no way they can just ignore what lies others believe to be true. Those others who don’t have any reason not to understand how amazing this Jesus is, how he has the power to change the world. Those others who could read the same texts they are reading, who could listen to the same good news they are hearing from Jesus. But who choose not to listen, not to read, not to see. Which is obviously a bad choice. At least in the eyes of the hotheaded brothers. And we would probably agree with them.

James and John are all in. They believe everything Jesus told them. They are the only ones of the disciples who truly believe that Jesus will die, prevail, and be risen again from the dead. Before he actually gets crucified. Their faith is unstoppable and huge. Their faith, hopes, and dreams are deeply rooted in Jesus Christ.

Consequently, they ask big asks. Following Jesus’ claim that if we ask we will be given, right? So, they ask: “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.”  Astonishingly, Jesus responds to this presumption with patience and curiosity: “What is it you want me to do?” 

It’s the same question Herod asked his daughter Salome. She then asked him to bring her John the Baptist’s head. So, this might turn into a risky conversation.

 “Grant us to sit,” James and John respond without hesitation, “one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.” 

Grant us prestige, fame, kudos, praise, distinction, success, honor, renown. Pride of place. Claps on the shoulder. Applause. That’s what those two want. They want to finish first, win big, and retire as privileged favorites with unique, intimate access to Jesus’s power and glory.  In fact, they don’t simply want these things; they’re convinced that they deserve them. That they’re entitled to them. After all, they would have been privileged through birth hadn’t it been for Jesus in the first place. And following Jesus shouldn’t make your life harder for you. If anything, it should get better, right?

James and John truly expect Jesus to be glorified. They expect and want the world’s wrongs to be righted.  They’re not complacent about injustice, oppression, hatred, and violence. They actively long for Jesus’s kingdom to arrive in all its glory and remake the world.  Interestingly, Jesus does not criticize James and John for these ambitions.  He doesn’t say, “It’s wrong of you to want greatness. It’s sinful of you to strive.” Instead, he redirects their striving. He offers them a radically different definition of greatness.  

Why? Because God wants us to want more, seek more, hope more, and need more.  What’s lethal to the spiritual life is not our striving; it’s our apathy, our cynicism, our carelessness, and our complacency. Desires can be redirected.  Ambitions can be purified.  But my unwillingness to care?  My numbness of soul?  My reluctance to hope because I fear disappointment? When my worries win over my dreams and visions. When I feel like I care and wish I could do something and hope that someone else will drink the cup and carry the burden because I am afraid to fail. And so, I will rather not try at all. These are the dead ends.  These are the true roadblocks to abundant grace and transformation. To serving in this world rather than striving for fame or power or at least some honor.

And as selfish and ignorant the two brothers might sound; they have more hope than anyone that Jesus will deliver. That Jesus will be glorified. That God needs our questions and claims and bold asks. They might fear being left behind among their friends or not getting where they feel like they have a birthright to be. But they sure aren’t afraid of being disappointed by Jesus. “Nothing is impossible with God” is not just a bumper sticker for them. It’s what keeps them going. Even though they have been on the road with Jesus for quite a while by now. Even though they have seen people doubt Jesus and harass him. Their faith is rooted deeply. Their ask is sincere. They want to make sure to stay as close as possible to Jesus forever. 

James and John are the two cheeky students always on the brink of being tacky. The students every teacher smiles at, sometimes even tells them off. And yet, loves. Loves for their dedication and passion, for their eagerness to learn, and their willingness to take to heart what they understood to be true. 

In return, Jesus asks the question he always asks: “What is it you want me to do for you?”  Not, “Here’s what I want”. But rather, “I am here to serve.  How can I serve you?” How can I make you feel better? James and John figured: Jesus is God’s son, he will die and be resurrected. Hence, the question of their relationship in eternity needs to be addressed earlier than later. It all makes total sense.

What James and John fail to understand is that service in the kingdom of God is not a second-class means to a first-class end. Service is the end. Service is power. Service is glory. The reward for serving others is that we will see more people who need to be served. That we will be unable to look away from those in need. And that we ourselves will feel needed and useful, knowing that we are indeed following Jesus on the road to the cross. Jesus, who never did anything else but served the people around him. Jesus, who would rather pay with his life than center himself and his wellbeing in this world. Mark calls that “a ransom”. 

And many theories exist about that tiny word “ransom”. You have heard them enough in your lives. There is the one most famous theory called atonement. Which basically claims that God was so angry at humanity that he needed to be reconciled through the blood of a human without sins to forgive humanity. So, to make things right the only great human who ever lived had to be sacrificed. Well, it’s been the most influential theory in the past 2000 years. Yet, it doesn’t make an awful lot of sense.

A “ransom” is something of value given for the sake of liberating a captive — and in Mark’s Gospel, Jesus does indeed come as a healer and liberator. But what particular ailment, what particular captivity is highlighted here in these chapters, again and again, three times in a row? 

It’s the disciples’ captivity to self-centeredness, and to conventional notions of power, prestige, and supposed “greatness.” Like Peter who rebuked Jesus when he talked about the suffering he was about to undergo. Like partners claiming power over each other instead of serving one another. Like the rich man who couldn’t let go of his possessions for anything in the world. 

Following Jesus means liberation from the cell of self-absorption, opening us up to God and neighbor in humility, generosity, and love — which is to say, opening us up to true servanthood. The phrase, “to give his life as a ransom for many” amounts to a poetic way of saying, to pour out his life in servanthood to humanity, even in the face of fierce opposition — and so at once to show us the way and to liberate us into living it. The incarnate Son of God gives something of value — his life — for the sake of our freedom, our learning to follow him along the way of being a “servant of all” with humility, generosity, love, and grace.

By all means, aspire to glory!  But recognize that glory by Jesus’s definition is not an accretion of privilege.  It’s not upward mobility.  It’s not permission to guard, hoard, and multiply your own.  Glory in God’s kingdom is an exercise in subtraction.  It’s a movement downwards.  It’s the generous and perpetual expending of one’s self in love.   

Our Gospel this week leaves us with two options. Do we seek glory by privileging ourselves like James and John? Meaning we first and foremost say: “Do for us. Grant us.”  Or do we epitomize glory by privileging others like Jesus, asking: What can I do for you?” It’s a question of priorities. 

Jesus clearly shows us the way. It includes baptism into his death and drinking the cup of suffering and death. Power, fame, prestige, or honor aren’t a part of that equation. We are called to serve not to earn rewards. We are just called to serve. The route is the goal. May God help us with that! May God grant us the fierce conviction of James and John that Jesus is the one who sets us free. May God bless us with their unshakable faith in Jesus’ power over death. And may God grant us the wisdom to strike for nothing less than to serve anyone we encounter. Always asking: What is it that you want? What can I do to make you feel better? Amen? Amen!

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