Today’s Gospel is an uncomfortable one to read. James and John, the sons of Zebedee, come up to Jesus with this outsized request, almost a demand, that Jesus honor them, place them at his right and his left in glory. “Teacher,” they say, “we want you to do whatever we ask of you.”
And Jesus, gently, patiently, asks them in reply, “What is it you want me to do for you?”
Of course the other disciples get angry. The nerve. The arrogance, that James and John think they are greater than the rest of them, that they are important enough not only to expect a place of honor, but to ask for it.
James and John haven’t gotten the memo yet. Jesus, three times by this point, has predicted his own arrest, death and resurrection, but we don’t get the sense that James and John want part of that – we wonder if they even listened when he told them – no, they just want to be in the VIP seats in whatever throne room or House of Parliament or hall of Congress they envision. They want a share of the fame and the power.
It’s uncomfortable to read because this was and is human nature. This is what our world teaches us. We’re not important unless we have the king’s ear. Value is all about power, about fame, about position. How many followers do we have on Instagram or Twitter? How many celebrities can we name drop in conversation? How does the world see us?
This is an especially important topic in this season of this year, as political ads swirl around us and we hear endless sound clips from interviews and debates and polls and political rallies. Who has the power? Who will have power? And how will that power affect us and our lives?
And Jesus gently, patiently, and I imagine with some sadness, tells them, “You do not know what you are asking.”
Because once again, he is trying to teach them that the world’s definitions of things are often upside-down. For Jesus in this moment, it’s about leadership. “Whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant,” he tells them. When Jesus comes into glory, it will not be as a conquering general or a tyrant. His glory will only come after suffering, after sharing our human experience in all of its pain and loss. And so his kingship will be a kingship of new life, of resurrection. It will be a leadership of love.
Jesus has been trying to teach his disciples this, all along, telling them, showing them, what a kingdom of God looks like, how it is different from the kingdom of humanity. In this same chapter,\ he’s taught them in parables, using images that are closer to earth than to heaven, that are covered in dirt, not gold – the seed sowed in good soil instead of thorns, the grain ripening at harvest time, the mustard seed that grows into a tall and nurturing tree, giving shelter to those who are vulnerable.
The kingdom of God, Jesus teaches, is like a light on a lamp stand, not a light hidden under a basket – it is a warm glow that illuminates the world and pushes out the darkness.
Jesus doesn’t call wealthy merchants or noblemen as disciples – even though they probably would have been helpful in terms of funding his mission, or calling in favors, or protecting him from those who are trying to have him arrested. Instead, he calls fishermen who are poor and struggling, and tax collectors, despised by their neighbors. Instead of dining with celebrity influencers, Jesus breaks bread with sinners. Instead of granting miracles to politicians and aristocrats, Jesus heals
lepers. He listens to women. He calls a young girl back from death’s door. He feeds 5,000 hungry people on a mountainside. He spends time with the least powerful and, in the eyes of the world, the least important people, those who are cast out and looked down on by the rest of society. Ironically, those who will be at his right and left hand in just a matter of time will not be John and James, but two criminals crucified with him by the empire.
Jesus’ life is an illustration of what it means to lead in God’s kingdom – it is a leadership of humility, compassion and countercultural kindness. It is a leadership that is not measured in Twitter followers, polling numbers or bank account balances. Jesus is inspiring people toward a different kind of kingdom.
And his most beautiful, powerful campaign speech?
Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.
Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.
Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
That is the leadership that Jesus offers us, and the leadership to which Jesus calls us. It does not matter whether we are wealthy or whether we struggle to make rent – Jesus does not care about our Instagram followers or our academic degrees, our political connections or our board memberships. We are equally beloved in God’s eyes, and we are all challenged to see and serve the rest of the world through God’s eyes too, to be the light on the lamp stand, the mustard seed that grows into a tree of love for many, to give as God’s people, to serve the least of these, to set aside the world’s definitions of value for God’s leadership of love.
Sermon preached by The Rev. Cara Ellen Modisett at Trinity Episcopal Church, Staunton, Virginia on October 20, 2024.
