Saturday, October 16, 2021

The Cup and the Crown (Reflections on Pentecopst 21, Year B 2021)

 



“…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.” (Mark 10:40) 

It might be pretty easy to shake our fingers at James and John in the gospel lesson for Pentecost 21, Year B in the Revised Common Lectionary (Mark 10:35-45). If you back up a little in the reading you’ll notice that Jesus is telling the gang for the third time—third time, no less!—about what’s going to happen to him in Jerusalem. There’s going to be mocking and flogging and crucifying. This isn’t exactly the pretty picture these boys have in their heads. Nevertheless, Jesus gives them the straight skinny even though they don’t want to hear it or understand it. The Zebedee boys—like all the rest of us who only want to listen to the news we want to listen to—act like Jesus never said anything at all and proceed in their selfish way to do a little self-promotion. 

“So, Boss,” they say, “when we get to Jerusalem and kick out the Romans and you become king, will you reward us for our faithfulness? After all, we’ve been with you from the very beginning. We left our nets and our dad and followed you. We took on an uncertain and itinerant lifestyle and went hungry at times and got kicked out of places and went on long mission trips without a second tunic or any money in our wallets. We cast out nasty demons and healed icky sick people. We even hung out with you when you ate with tax collectors and sinners. Don’t you think we’ve earned a place of honor? Shouldn’t we get a big promotion for our efforts?” 

Can’t you just imagine Jesus staring at these guys and shaking his head? Then he has to ask them, “Will you boys be ready to endure what I endure?”

 “Sure!” say James and John, probably thinking they’ve already put up with enough crap and hardship to last them a lifetime. But they’re not ready for what comes next. Jesus lays it out: they will endure what he endures—pain and rejection and imprisonment and (at least in James’ case) execution. What’s not guaranteed is any earthly reward for enduring it. 

This is awfully lousy news for anyone who’s hung up on the notion of fairness. After all, if we put in the effort, shouldn’t we get the reward? Shouldn’t living a good and virtuous life entitle us to good and virtuous things? Doesn’t God want to bless us with earthly comforts and rewards? Joel Osteen thinks so! 

Unfortunately, Jesus doesn’t. 

According to scripture, none of us are really entitled to anything but punishment.[i] Nevertheless, we seem to get a spiritual wedgie whenever we see someone besides ourselves getting blessed, and we’re quick to feel slighted when we don’t get what we want. It is nice, I’ll grant, to get a little pat on the back or a little “bonus” every once in a while for being obedient followers of Jesus, but are we really expecting a prize for doing what we’ve said we’d do—and what we know we should do—in the first place? 

We live in a sinful world, and, like James and John, we’re all going to suffer in some way. We’ll all have to hold our noses and drink down the nasty-smelling cup of pain, frustration, grief, and unpleasantness that comes with being human. It can’t be avoided. What matters is the spirit in which we drink it.

When I last preached on this text in 2018, I had just finished reading W. Somerset Maugham’s 1906 satiric novel The Bishop’s Apron. It’s about a scheming Anglican clergyman who plots to become a bishop. When he is offered a lesser post instead, he has the opportunity to reflect on how he has behaved, what his real values are, and what being in the service of God really means. Unfortunately, his self-reflection doesn’t last too long, and he re-inflates his ego and begins scheming for another position of honor. It is, after all, a comic novel.[ii] 

Since I wrote that sermon, a close friend of mine actually became a bishop. In fact, several of my seminary buddies have made quite nice careers for themselves: one a bishop, one a dean, one a seminary professor, and quite a few have moved on from their first calls to larger, wealthier, and more prestigious congregations or positions within the synod and national church organization. My daughter asked if I ever became envious of their mobility. 

I can only answer that my friends and colleagues have been entrusted with their positions because their gifts will allow them to better serve the kingdom of God by occupying such roles. Again, like James and John, we all may want the honor, but we may not be able to drink the cup of responsibility which comes along with it[iii]. Our gifts are not of our choosing[iv]. They come from the Holy Spirit. They are for those for whom they have been prepared. 

Whatever gifts we’ve been given, we are to use in the service of others. If we are not content with doing what we’re doing, perhaps we ought not to be doing it. If being a good and faithful Christian is not reward enough for us, then perhaps we are not really good and faithful Christians. Or, perhaps we have temporarily lost sight of the fact that our reward has already been prepared for us on God’s lay-away plan.

In whatever your circumstances, may your joy in the Lord be complete.  Thanks for reading.


[i] See Romans 3:23, 6:23, Genesis 3:19, 6:9ff, john 3:16-18 and a bunch of other verses.

[ii] This should give you a pretty clear idea of how much respect Maugham had for the clergy.

[iii] I think recent history has shown how bad things get when someone gets the honor but isn’t up to the responsibility!

[iv] If they were, I’d be singing at the Metropolitan Opera or pitching for the Phillies!

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