What Do You Really Want? Mark 10:35-45 October 19, 2003, Year B, Proper 24 The Rev. William V. Livingston, Rector Church of the Resurrection, Starkville, Mississippi What do you want? What do you really want? Not just those wishes we make public, but those inner desires - some of which we acknowledge and some we might not want others to know about. For what do you pray? When you approach Jesus and speak the word that actually lives inside us - not the liturgically proper word, not the safe word - for what do you pray? For good health, for an ailing parent, for a child struggling with addiction or in a shaky marriage, for your deepest wishes - or do you try to keep those wishes secret even from God? James and John at least were honest about what they really wanted: seats of honor, privilege, power, admiration of others. The irony is that, as Mark tells the story, immediately before they ask for what they really want, Jesus has just told the apostles, "The chief priests and scribes . . . will mock the Son of Man, and spit upon him, and scourge him, and kill him." Despite Jesus talking of discipleship as taking up the cross and of the lowly as heirs of the kingdom, James and John jockey for a higher position of honor in the group. Unsaintly requests from two saints who exhibit their inability to understand who Jesus is and what he teaches - we can quickly wonder, "Now how could they have been with Jesus all this time, how could they have seen his miracles and not understood who he was, and how could they hear his teachings and ask for such a stupid, self-centered, arrogant request?" It should have been so obvious. Before we criticize, however, consider that Jesus was turning their whole world upside down, and it was just beginning to sink in, and consider that we have the Gospel stories and 2000+ years of Christian teaching. I don't know about you, but if backed into a corner, I'd have to admit that I frequently want some stupid, self-centered, arrogant things and am foolish enough sometimes to ask for them in my prayers. That, my friends is one of the good news of the Gospel: we're not that different from the disciples - either in our inability to get it or in the saintliness that resides within each of us only waiting for us to allow the Holy Spirit to express it. Fortunately Jesus doesn't say to James and John what I would say: "You want what? Didn't you just hear what I said about my suffering, about taking up your cross and following me? I give up! When are you guys going to get it?" Instead he asks, "Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or to be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized?" Cup and baptism; like all of Jesus' metaphors come from real life. In the Mediterranean culture, the head of the family fills the cups of all at table. Each one is expected to accept and drink what the head of the family has given. For Jesus, this meant to take part in his suffering and passion. Baptism was a ceremonial cleansing. For Jesus, this meant to submit to John the Baptist to an immersion resulting in a new life of fulfilling God's purpose, weeping over Jerusalem, pouring out his own blood, and then trusting these handful of friends who never seem to get it to carry on. The brothers impetuously respond, "We are able," implying they can indeed accept and fulfill the same lot assigned to Jesus. Once again, before we are too quick to laugh at their impetuousness, remember that each time we celebrate a baptism and on major feast days, as we will in two weeks on All Saints' Sunday, we all stand and when asked, "Will you persevere in resisting evil, and, whenever you fall into sin, repent and return to the Lord? Will you proclaim by word and examples the Good News of God in Christ? Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself? And, will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being?" And, as impetuously as James and John, we will respond, "I will, with God's help." In the brothers' defense, we must remember that Jesus came not only as teacher and miracle worker but as someone who comes to turn the world upside down. In a culture that placed the upmost importance on family and bloodline, he defined his family as the one who does the will of God. In a world that having great wealth evidenced that the person had earned God's favor, he told a rich young man to sell all he had and give the money away and taught how difficult it will be for those who have wealth to enter the Kingdom of God. In a world expecting a triumphant, warrior Messiah, he brought the realization that kingship and authority is not about wearing a crown but about carrying a cross. In this text Jesus really gets to the point. Leadership is not about self-glorification, but about the service to, and the upliftment and empowerment of others. It is not about standing above others, but about lifting up others. Is it any wonder the disciples didn't get it? Is it any wonder we don't get it? Like the sons of Zebedee, we live in a world that graves wealth, ignores the masses in need and looks down on those willing to be servants, and we, too, have the basic human desires for power, control, success, and fame. These tendencies are not terrible and shameful, but can influence us so easily to put down Jesus' cup, avoid his baptism and look for our rightful seats at the table of life. Like James and John, how readily we say "we can" to a commitment which promises glory and appears easy even when Jesus hides none of the fine print that our "we can" is to the cross. When we do sit down Jesus will still be the servant. Where do you want to sit? What do you most want? Do not be afraid to ask. Until we ask our most earnest prayers, we won't be able to hear Jesus say, "You do not know what you are asking." and we must be willing to live into the answer. Then we, as did James and John, will allow Jesus, as he always does, to call us to be counter-cultural, to call us to a different way of being. If we will take the risk of really asking and waiting for the answer, he shows us not only a way of being, but also a way out of the cultural madness that tells us that if we are not the best, the star, we are worthless. If we will take the risk of really asking and waiting for the answer, Jesus shows us our true worth lies in relationships: with God, with each other, and with the work we are called to do. By being faithful to those things, we find our real worth as human beings and as children of God and can be released from the rat race that dehumanizes us. If we will take the risk of really asking and waiting for the answer, he will show how to see each other as individuals, as worthwhile, as valuable, as persons with dignity and a place in the world. With such perception it becomes possible to be servants to each other: valuing each other, encouraging each other, recognizing each others' gifts, and helping each other live out our individual callings in the world. If, when we come to this altar week after week, we risk really asking and waiting for the answer as we drink his cup, and if we truly mean it when we answer the baptismal covenant with, "I will with God's help," then we will live out a faith beyond both sight and comprehension. If we allow that transformation to happen, we will drown a thousand times in waters we didn't anticipate, we will sit at tables we never imagined, we will hold visible and invisible hands that pull one another up when we stumble, we will catch tears from a thousand eyes, including our own, we will hold our cupped hands out to God in a sorrow we never thought possible, and will receive grace beyond imagination. Where do you want to sit? What do you really want from God? What do you think God wants you to do? What would unselfish service look like in the Church of the Resurrection? What would it look like in your daily life? Go ahead and ask!