My son Will and I have a friend who seems to be particularly
blessed by the parking gods. Each time as she pulls into the parking space right in front of where she is going,
she exclaims, “Ha, rock star parking!”
In today’s gospel lesson, the mother of James and John asks
Jesus for rock star parking for her sons. In Mark’s account, mom is not
involved. James and John, the Zebedee boys, also known as “sons of thunder,” ask
on their own behalf. In both accounts, Jesus is reminded that he is going to
come into his own at some point, and the Zebedee brothers want to be there,
right by his side all the way.
At this point in his ministry, Jesus attracts crowds
everywhere he goes. With the crowds come excitement and attention that spills
over and is shared by those of the inner circle. It must have been exhilarating
to follow Jesus in his travels as he preached and healed.
I have heard the story of the Zebedee brothers, their mother
and their request interpreted as a bare-knuckle grab for power. The sons of
thunder were into power, according to that interpretation, and they (or she)
ask Jesus for a share of the power in the kind of earthly kingdom they think he
is building.
Perhaps. Power grabs are certainly human ways of thinking
and acting—yesterday, today and through the ages.
But power grabs imply planning based on some level of
political knowledge and skill. In contrast, what I am most struck by today is
the utter clueless-ness, not only of James, John and their mother, but of the
other 10 as well.
Jesus has been trying to explain to them what is coming,
what must transpire for him to come into his glory. ‘We’re going to Jerusalem
where I am going to die!’ And the disciples so-o-o do not get it.
But with 2,000 years of hindsight and a written record to
consult at will, we don’t get it
much of the time. How then could the disciples have gotten it?
Perhaps that’s why I read the story today with sensitivity
to the plight of the disciples, and with sympathy for their failings. Perhaps
it’s why I’m inclined to think James and John are asking for something more akin
to rock star parking.
(After all, wouldn’t “Jesus Christ Superstar and the Sons of
Thunder” be a great name for a rock band?)
Or maybe James and John are just asking for the exquisite
privilege of being close to this teacher they have come to love. They accept
that Jesus will be glorified in some way. They know they want to be there to
bask in the warmth and light of his glory.
So they ask for what seems obvious to their oh-so-human
minds: Promise us that we will sit next to you forever. And don’t sweat the
details, teacher. Of course we are able. We’re with you all the way.
What about the other 10? Well, can’t you just see this
scenario playing out in our homes? Our churches? Our workplaces? What we hear
in the voices of the ten is the classic human response of jealousy and fear of
being left out when we think someone else has gotten the jump on us in getting
a share of the goodies.
Jesus responds first, of course, by suggesting to James and
John that they be careful what they ask for. Then he turns the incident into
another lesson, not only for James and John, but for all.
The real deal, Jesus says, is just the opposite of what you
think. In this world, the kings, the stars, the presidents and prime ministers,
lord it over the very people who recognize their authority, perhaps elected
them to office and look to them for leadership.
But among you, my disciples, the people of God, whoever
wishes to be great must be servant, whoever wishes to be first must be slave of
all.
What a topsy-turvy world the disciples must have thought
they had landed in. I can almost see them looking at each other, shoulders
shrugged and palms spread. What is he talking about?
In fact, I think we’re still wondering what Jesus was
talking about. We’re still not terribly clear about what Jesus’ call to serve
means, either to us personally or to the church.
We tend to think of our lives, consisting of careers,
spouses, children, car payments, home mortgages, and so forth, as one thing,
and Christian service as something we do on the side, something we are sort of
obligated to as a response to these nice lives over here.
Or, in the case of the church, our corporate life consists
of maintaining a beautiful space, offering a certain array of worship services
weekly, generating enough funds to have a priest and maybe a secretary, and
over here we do “outreach” with the left over funds.
In other words, service is that which we “tack on” to life.
We donate a Saturday for which we have no other plans to participating in a
Habitat for Humanity workday. Our church takes on serving a meal at a shelter. And
good on us. Those things need to
be done.
But I don’t think service, defined as that which we do in
our spare time or that which we support with our leftover dollars, is what
Jesus has in mind. I think Jesus is saying that servanthood is a way of life.
Or, better yet, that our lives are to be lived as a service to God. All aspects
of our lives are to be imbued with an attitude of concern and caring for
others.
We probably all have our favorite moments in the Book of
Common Prayer. One of mine can be found in Holy Eucharist, Rite 1, the
post-communion prayer (p. 339): And
we humbly beseech thee, O heavenly Father, so to assist us with thy grace, that
we may continue in that holy fellowship, and do all such good works as thou
hast prepared for us to walk in…
Let that sink in for a moment. We are to do the work.. God
has prepared for us.. to walk in.
Servanthood is to be our way of life. You’ve heard the saying,
“Don’t just talk the talk, walk the walk.” Servanthood as the walk we walk must
come from the heart as well as the mind. It’s not just a matter of squeezing
another meeting or day at the shelter onto the calendar. It’s a matter of who
we are and how we do everything we do.
Servanthood as a way of life means that everything is our
business. Yes, I know, we are well taught to mind our own business, to not
stick our noses into other peoples’ business, and so forth. But if Jesus had
not seen his very life as servanthood and the state of the entire world as his
concern, how then could he have given his life as a ransom for all?
Understanding servanthood as a way of life means to
experience joy and God’s grace in everyday acts of service, from feeding your
own family to serving on the Altar Guild at church. But understanding
servanthood as a way of life also means becoming aware—painfully aware—of the hopes
and needs of the world.
It means caring that a good many of the people we serve food
to at the shelter are mentally ill and not receiving any medical treatment for
it whatsoever.
It means making it our business that some 400,000 working
Louisiana families earn so little that they are one major medical bill or car
repair away from what one woman I met through Interfaith called the “panic
zone”: That moment when you realize, due to one extra expense, the pay check isn’t
going to reach this time. It’s a panic zone that drives people into the
clutches of payday lenders, making matters worse–every time.
And I believe it also means taking our servanthood into the
voting booth with us.
Bernice
King, youngest daughter of Martin Luther & Coretta Scott King, said this:
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| Louisiana in Winter, by Bette J. Kauffman |
In the name of God, Father,
son, and Holy Spirit, AMEN.
