The Hard Side of Discipleship

20th Sunday after Pentecost

Mark 10:35-45

In teaching this class this fall out at NOC, I have discovered, present in the minds of adult students, two attitudes related to test taking, one of which reminded me of a childlike perspective, and the other of which sounds like early adolescence. Administration wanted us to assess learning about every two weeks, so in our third week of class, I gave them their first quiz. The class session before the quiz, you would have thought we were in third grade – “Can you tell us what part of the book we need to study for the quiz? Can you tell us what kinds of questions are going to be on the quiz?” I reminded them that they were adults, and that they were expected to know everything that was in the book for the first two chapters. They were somewhat aghast. Then, in grading the first quiz, I noticed the second attitude – the course I am teaching is called “Social Problems,” and one might expect that coming from the field of Sociology, things might come from a little more of a liberal perspective, and that the tests would require the students to submit answers that pointed out that they understood – not agreed with, but understood – that particular perspective. I had cautioned them about this, but several of the students chose to stubbornly hold to their rather conservative opinions in answering the test questions, and subsequently, their answers were incorrect. They did a little better on the next test . . .

I tell that little story to help us get an opening perspective on the gospel story for this day – a story which reminds us that as we progress from childlike faith into a more substantive adult faith, there are things that change for us, even while there are things that remain much the same.

There are four questions asked in quick succession at the start of our pericope for this morning. The Sons of Thunder – James and John, the rowdy ones – come to Jesus with an initial question. You know, it’s always interesting to me how each of the gospel writers deal with each of these stories – in this particular case, Luke deals with just the last part of our story, John doesn’t deal with it at all, and Matthew actually has the mother of the sons of Zebedee showing up with this question. Only Mark tells this as though the idea was original with James and John. Anyway, they ask their first question – and it sooooo sounds like children asking their parents for a favor, knowing that there’s very little chance that they will say “yes.” “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.”

Do you remember when you were a child? Perhaps you had siblings, perhaps you didn’t. I have two brothers and a sister. For the longest time, it was really just the two brothers, and one of those is near my age. When we were younger, we would desire certain things, and so we would approach one or the other of our parents with our request. As we matured, we learned which parent was more likely to answer “yes” and so our choosing which parent to ask took on a bit of adolescent sophistication. We also learned how to frame questions so that our idea sounded like a good idea. I suspect this is a rather universal childhood experience. This whole exchange between the Sons of Thunder and Jesus starts out that way – like little children going to their parent, asking for something they know won’t happen.

That’s where most of us started in our faith experiences. We began as children. That’s not a bad thing – in fact, Christ said at one point in His teaching ministry something to the effect of “anyone who comes to me must come as a little child.” We have looked at that scripture relatively recently, and been reminded that when we come to Christ, we come with the full blown trust that is found in most children – trust that counts on those who know more than they know to tell them the things they need to know – trust that believes that those who love them want only the best for them – trust that doesn’t see other alternatives – only hopes for the possibilities that can be offered by the person in whom they trust.

Jesus surprises them. He certainly surprises me. “What is it you want me to do for you?” He actually plays along with them – for the time being. Maybe He wanted to know how their faith journey was progressing. Maybe He wanted to know what goofy idea they had come up with now!! We really don’t know – but He opened the door a crack, just to see what they were up to. He didn’t answer “yes” or “no” – He just let them go on with their ploy . . .

Maybe we are a little surprised that Jesus wants to know what we want. When we take a moment to step back and look at this relationship – you know, God to man – we may be a little surprised that God wants to know what we want in the deal. We speak of God’s will – we talk about it as though there is only one possibility in our lives for every situation in life, and God knows what God wants for our lives, and we have the responsibility to discern the will of God – almost as if it were a mystery that God wants to keep hidden from us. So when we hear the Son of God ask us what we want, we may be taken back a little – we may be just a little surprised.

Well, here was their question (their mother’s question, if you take Matthew’s word for it) - “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.” Wow. Even Jesus was taken back. Talk about bravado!! That’s some request. “When you come into your kingdom, we’d like to be your left and right hand men – men of power – men of prestige – men of notoriety – men of whom other men stop and take notice. We want to be people to be reckoned with – people noticed for who we are, and not so much for what we’ve done. Besides, we deserve that kind of recognition – don’t you think, Jesus?? You’ve kind of picked us out as your friends, haven’t you? We’re a part of the Big Three – I mean, if you actually count Simon Peter!!” (I find it somewhat fascinating that Simon Peter isn’t in on this conversation, at least not at this point).

Do you have that kind of bravado in the presence of God? We are, after all, speaking of the Son of God, depicted by the writer of Hebrews as our very high priest, but not just any old high priest – rather, a high priest on the order of Melchizedek!! A High Priest, mind you, Who did not catapult Himself to this position of prominence – no, rather was exalted and appointed to this position of Eternal High Priest for all of us by His Father, God the Father, Father of us all. Not chosen from among mortals, the scriptures tell us, but appointed from the heavens for our eternal benefit. We do realize that this is the Jesus of Whom we speak?

Job, representative of everyman, had this kind of bravado. We hear about the patience of Job – that’s the way people speak of him – the patience of Job. Go back and read the book. He’s certainly patient – for a few chapters. But finally, the advice of his friends starts to pay off, and Job starts to question God. He speaks of his own integrity, his own righteousness, and come chapter 32, the friends realize that they’ve awakened something ugly in Job. The 1st verse of chapter 32 says that “these three men ceased answering Job, because he was righteous in his own eyes.” For most of us that’s the problem with dealing with the Almighty – we eventually start to sing our own praises – we eventually begin to identify our own righteousness. Come chapter 38, God speaks back – “Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge? Now gird up your loins like a man, and I will ask you and you instruct Me!” I don’t know about you but I don’t want to hear God speak to me that way. Sometimes, God does. Sometimes God speaks to each of us that way.

Just a couple of other verses from the gospel, and then I’ll try to wind this thing up. Jesus looks beyond His own amazement at them for their request, and in a moment of extreme compassion, asks them if they know what they’re asking for. With more bravado, they answer in the affirmative, and at that point, Jesus goes ahead with His prediction for them. Earlier in the week, I started to entitle this sermon “Be Careful What You Ask For.” Jesus actually predicts that they will receive “exactly” what they ask for – that they will indeed receive and drink the cup of suffering that He is about to undergo when He enters Jerusalem. I found Fox’s “Book of Martyrs” on the internet the other day – the text from the first chapter indicates the kind of death by which every disciple was martyred. James was supposedly the first to die – beheaded under the rule of Herod Agrippa. John escaped being boiled alive in oil, only to be recaptured and exiled to Patmos, where he lived out the remainder of his days. They did drink the cup that Jesus was going to drink – not what they asked for, and certainly not what they were expecting.

The other ten disciples were annoyed with James and John, and I think a little with Jesus for putting up with their shenanigans and their questions. Jesus picked up immediately on their displeasure, and offered to them, and I think to us, our lesson for this day.

I think it is a two-fold lesson. The first is case specific – by that, I mean that when it comes to issues such as prominence and recognition and accolades and reward, we’re barking up the wrong tree if we go running to Jesus with such matters. He’s not interested in such things, no matter how “really interested” we are with them. He’s on a different mission – in His own life, and in the lives of all of His followers. He wants to introduce us to the “better” way – the way of humility and service – the way of giving over receiving.

Which leads us to the second lesson – the more “general” lesson for us today. When we begin with Jesus, He takes us where we are. He asks that we come as little children to His salvation and His care. But we don’t stay there. He challenges us – rather constantly – to become all that we can become in service in His kingdom. We rather “grow up” into our Christian understanding – in every way becoming more “adult” in our service – seeking service, rather than tribute and praise. Paul said it well in 1st Corinthians 13 – “When I was a child, I used to speak as a child, think as a child, reason as a child; when I became a man, I did away with childish things.” I think to James and John, Jesus would have added, “and childish, unfocused questions.”

Christ calls us to something significant. Christians are always being challenged by Christ to take our commitment to Him in the manner of serious disciples. An adult response to Christ sees us choosing to see ourselves less as faith consumers, and always more as servants of Christ and His followers.


Richard W. Dunn, Ph.D.