Penelope Bridges
Several things strike me about the Gospel we just heard:
- Jesus tells his friends for the third time that he is going to die a horrendous death, and immediately two of them are clamoring to be seated next to him when he comes “into his glory”. What the what? Haven’t they heard a word he has said?
- The other disciples are mad at James & John for asking this, not because James & John have misread the situation but because they too want some of that imagined glory.
- Jesus offers a teaching that is as hard for us to grasp as it was for the disciples: that his way of leadership is a way of servanthood, not charging out in front and leading an army to victory but putting the common good ahead of his own comfort, preferences, and ambition; even ahead of his own life.
- Those of us who have read ahead know that the ultimate irony of this story is that when Jesus is crucified, the people to his right and left will actually be mocking bandits who are suffering the same torture. “You do not know what you are asking”, indeed.
Maybe what the disciples suffer from here is a simple lack of imagination. What Jesus is predicting just doesn’t compute for them. The Messiah executed? Rise again after three days? Inconceivable. They are still stuck in this misconception that Jesus will be a military conqueror, that he will engage earthly powers on their own terms and be victorious. Both Scripture and the Prayer Book remind us frequently that human imagination falls far short of what God is capable of. Look at today’s reading from Job.
God’s response to Job’s lament is to point out quite robustly that God’s vision is infinitely more expansive than Job’s. Jesus more gently reminds James and John that they should be careful what they ask for: they evidently don’t understand what lies ahead for all of them, or they would not be asking for it.
Ephesians (3:20) speaks of God who is “able to accomplish abundantly far more than we can ask or imagine”. One of the prayers for those we love in the BCP says “We entrust all who are dear to us to your never-failing care and love, for this life and the life to come; knowing that you are doing for them better things than we can desire or pray for.” (p.831).
We cannot know what God intends for us. We sometimes pray as if God is some kind of divine vending machine: “Here’s what I want, and I’ll do or give this in order to get it.” And when we don’t get what we want, we get all caught up in wondering guiltily why our faith isn’t enough, or concluding that God doesn’t love us and want us to be happy. I believe that God always answers prayer, but sometimes the answer is No. I suspect that if we were in perfect alignment with God’s will for our lives, then we would receive whatever we were asking for in faith; but it’s almost inevitable that our prayers are shaped by our own brokenness, and so what we think God wants for us may be in part a function of the addictions and wounds we carry.
I read recently about a religious organization that is taking root in San Diego County. It’s an offshoot of an evangelical Australian church that lost credibility when its leaders were convicted of various kinds of abuse. Here it’s called C3 or Awaken Church, and it espouses Christian Nationalism, homophobia, and the Prosperity Gospel. The Prosperity Gospel, you’ll recall, is all about promising that God will give us what we crave – possessions, status, security – in return for us handing over large amounts of our resources to the church.
As we conduct our annual pledge campaign, it’s tempting to preach that God will bless you with prosperity if you just help us reach our campaign goal, but I can’t do that with a straight face. I don’t believe God cares a whole lot about how much money we have. In fact, some of the most faithful and most joyful people I have known have been those with very few material resources. We really don’t know what God desires for us. Our imagination just isn’t big enough. After all, none of the people who knew Jesus would have predicted that the way his earthly life ended, with shame and agony, would lead to us worshiping him as the Prince of Peace, our King and our Lord. And yet he told us exactly what kind of leader he was, when he said, “Whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all.”
So I’m not going to preach the prosperity Gospel, but I will offer my own personal testimony, that by giving ten percent plus of my income to the Cathedral and related ministries, I experience peace and joy, knowing that my gifts support the ministries of this wonderful community and the work we do to bring the Kingdom of God closer. And I invite you to join me in that joyful offering. That’s probably going to be the shortest stewardship testimony you’ll hear this season.
In case you missed the news flash, we have an election coming up in a couple of weeks. Last Sunday our forum focused on aligning our votes with our Christian values, and specifically with the stated positions of the Episcopal Church. I wasn’t able to stay for the whole forum, and I wonder if the conversation touched on evaluating candidates by the degree to which they aspire to the Christian ideal of servant leadership. Is there any room in our electoral system for candidates who are humble and willing to admit their mistakes, who give of themselves for the common good without seeking personal glory, who have a track record of upholding the dignity of every human being? Whether or not a candidate openly claims to be a Christian, we might want to select community leaders who live out those characteristics, given that the one we follow exemplified those virtues.
The Letter to the Hebrews makes the point that a leader must be humble enough to acknowledge and confess their own shortcomings before they can speak for the people they serve. This is entirely consistent with the model of servant leadership that Jesus teaches. Those of us who lead communities lead from within those communities, not from some distant and separate space. This in fact is the basis for the traditional arrangement of having a priest stand on the same side of the altar as the people, speaking as one of them in the prayers and offerings.
In the 60’s and 70’s this got turned around, literally, as scholars and theologians decided instead to go for the model of a family at the dinner table, with the priest standing behind the altar and inviting all to join him or her at the feast. There’s something to be said for both models, but in either case, the point is that clergy are included in the people of God, not separate from them, and the same should be the case for secular leaders. The Founding Fathers may have had this model in mind when they declared after the revolution that there would be no royalty or titles conferred in the United States: the President and all in authority would serve as first among equals, not as some kind of separate caste.
The wise leader rejects being placed on a pedestal, because that leads to disappointed expectations when the leader turns out, unsurprisingly, to be fully human. A strong system of checks and balances provides essential accountability at every level of community.
Jesus offers us a way of life that is in contrast to the anxiety and greed that we so often encounter in our world. Instead of ambition, he offers humility. Instead of fear, he offers trust. Instead of empty craving, he offers contentment. The one who serves is freed from unrealistic expectations and can instead rejoice in following the one whose service is perfect freedom, our crucified, risen, and eternal Lord. Amen.
