The Twenty-second Sunday after Pentecost | 20 October 2024 | Mark 10:35-45 | Paul Bieber |

Mark 10:35-45 Revised Standard Version

³⁵ James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came forward to Jesus, and said to him, “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.” ³⁶ And he said to them, “What do you want me to do for you?” ³⁷ And they said to him, “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.” ³⁸ But Jesus said to them, “You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or to be baptized with the baptism with which I am baptized?” ³⁹ And they said to him, “We are able.” And 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; ⁴⁰ but to sit at my right hand or at my left is not mine to grant, but it is for those for whom it has been prepared.” ⁴¹ And when the ten heard it, they began to be indignant at James and John. ⁴² And Jesus called them to him and said to them, “You know that those who are supposed to rule over the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great men exercise authority over them. ⁴³ But it shall not be so among you; but whoever would be great among you must be your servant, ⁴⁴ and whoever would be first among you must be slave of all. ⁴⁵ For the Son of man also came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

also

Isaiah 43:4-12

Psalm 91:9-16

Hebrews 5:1-10

CAN YOU DRINK THE CUP?

Grace, peace, and much joy to you, people of God.

The request is so outrageous that St. Matthew puts it on the lips of the mother of the sons of Zebedee instead of their own. Actually, as St. Mark tells the story, there are two outrageous requests: first, the request for a blank check—we want you to do for us whatever we ask. (Parenthetically, isn’t this what some who don’t believe in prayer, think that prayer is? Doesn’t Jesus say that whatever we ask in his name, he will do? But Jesus isn’t some sort of genie to grant our wishes.) Nevertheless, Jesus invites James and John to make their request.

And it is the second outrageous request: for the places of honor at Jesus’ right and left in his glory. They seem to have missed most of the detailed third passion prediction that comes between last Sunday’s Gospel and this one. By now we know the pattern, having heard Jesus’ first two predictions of his passion, the disciples’ misunderstanding—Peter’s rebuke and the argument about who is the greatest—and Jesus’ teaching of the great paradox of the Christian life: finding life by losing it, the greatest among his followers being the least of all.

After the third passion prediction, James and John seem to have understood something about the kingdom that Jesus proclaims is at hand; something about who Jesus is, the Christ; and maybe something about the resurrection glory that ends each passion prediction. But their understanding is, at best, selective. Their profound misunderstanding is shown in their attempt to secure places for themselves in that glory, seemingly oblivious to the fate Jesus has predicted for himself and for those who would follow him: finding life by losing it.

Jesus asks: Can you drink this cup of suffering? Can you be baptized with this baptism of death? James and John do not know what they are asking. At Jesus’ right and left in the paradoxical glory of the cross will be two crucified thieves. In his life, and most certainly in his death on the cross, Jesus offers himself, gives his life as a ransom.

Our high priest knows our desire to secure our lives here and hereafter, our self-centeredness, all the distractions from his message. He suffers at the hands of those he came to serve, in obedience to the One who sent him. He is the suffering servant of Isaiah 53; today’s First Reading is a portion of what we hear on Good Friday every year. He makes his life an offering for our sin, a ransom to end our captivity to all the idols to which we have submitted, most of all ourselves.

He gave himself into death so that we might live—and learn that there is no life without death, no Easter without Good Friday, no glory without the cross.

The world vehemently denies this. On the one hand, we ignore death, act as if life will go on forever—and dream, some of us, of making it go on forever with transhumanist technology—then sweep the reality of death under the rug when a loved one dies. And at the very same time, on the other hand, we live in abject fear of death and try to stave it off with diet, exercise, and pharmaceutical and medical fads from the internet.

All of this whistling past the graveyard amounts to whistling past the cross: trying to secure our lives here—and hereafter—disregarding the cross-bearing journey that leads to the kingdom of the crucified and risen Lord.

One of the world’s favorite ways to ignore the inevitability of death and attempt to secure our lives is exercising authority over others, those in power ruling over those without power. But Jesus says that it is not to be so among us. We are called to follow Jesus in seeking not to be served but to serve, to find true greatness in humble service, to find our lives by losing them—as Jesus did. In Gethsemane he prayed that the cup might pass from him, but he took it thankfully and without trembling out of the hand of his loving Father, doing his will without remainder.

The images of the cup and baptism show us that in the Church’s sacraments the faithful share in Jesus’ destiny, are caught up in his self-offering: proclaiming his death until he comes in glory, baptized with him into death that we might live a new life. Following him on this cross-bearing journey, we need neither fear nor try to ignore death. Receiving the cup of salvation at his table, we are strengthened to drink our own cup of suffering.

We need neither fear nor try to ignore those who would lord their power over us, even our own selfish being. It shall not be so among us. We have been ransomed, set free to serve in Jesus’ name—maybe even to be part of his answer to someone else’s prayer.

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

—

The Rev. Dr. Paul Bieber, STS

E-Mail: paul.bieber@sbcglobal.net

All Saints Lutheran Church

San Diego, California, USA