Matthew 20:17-28

While Jesus was going up to Jerusalem, he took the twelve disciples aside by themselves, and said to them on the way, “See, we are going up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be handed over to the chief priests and scribes, and they will condemn him to death; then they will hand him over to the Gentiles to be mocked and flogged and crucified; and on the third day he will be raised.” Then the mother of the sons of Zebedee came to him with her sons, and kneeling before him, she asked a favor of him. And he said to her, “What do you want?” She said to him, “Declare that these two sons of mine will sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your kingdom.” But Jesus answered, “You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I am about to drink?” They said to him, “We are able.” He said to them, “You will indeed drink my cup, but to sit at my right hand and at my left, this is not mine to grant, but it is for those for whom it has been prepared by my Father.” When the ten heard it, they were angry with the two brothers. But Jesus called them to him and said, “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. It will not be so among you; but whoever wishes to be great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be your slave; just as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.”

The tendency is to treat these two scenes – 1) Jesus predicting his passion for a third time and 2) the question about greatness – separately. But I think they are placed side-by-side for a reason. Matthew, after all, connects them with that simple but telling word, “Then,” which makes it clear that this interchange takes place shortly after Jesus’ prediction. Finally, if we disconnect these scenes, we end up with Jesus simply repeating himself over and over again and then a disconnected conversation about greatness prompted by what feels a bit like a power grab. So let’s look at these scenes again and connected, starting with the second one.

Although Matthew obviously didn’t have the term available to him, today we might call the mother of James and John a “helicopter parent.” Bringing her sons to Jesus, she kneels in a posture of deference and worship to beg a favor – namely, that her sons would occupy positions of honor and power in Jesus’ kingdom. He, in turn, asks them whether they are ready to drink the cup that Jesus will drink; that is, suffer his fate. This is first time the scene just prior to this one comes into play, as “the cup” Jesus references is clearly his impending death in Jerusalem. But as clear as that reference may be to us, James and John clearly do not get it, answering immediately that they are ready, if not even eager, to share Jesus’ fate. Jesus then affirms that they will indeed sacrifice their lives for the gospel – something that Matthew’s community likely already knows – but that granting the honor the mother of James and John requests is the privilege only of the Father.

When the rest of the disciples hear what Mrs. Zebedee requested, they are, quite frankly, rather ticked off. They feel like James and John are cutting the line, trying to insinuate themselves into Jesus’ good graces ahead of them. And whatever we may think about the initial request or the disciples’ reaction, it’s clear that Jesus thinks something is awry. Indeed, Jesus concludes that they – all of them – misunderstand what true greatness looks like.

Which is the second time that Jesus’ prediction comes into play. Because Jesus not only talks about a different understanding of greatness that is rooted in service, but he has just spelled out his own profound commitment to servant leadership, even to the point of sacrificing his life.

Jesus’ teaching and example, of course, wasn’t contrary only to Gentile practice, but also to our own. We also tend to think about greatness in the world’s terms of accomplishment, wealth, and power. But Jesus invites us to imagine greatness along the relational lines of the kingdom of God Jesus proclaims. In this kingdom, we are invited to discover our true humanity and the meaning of our lives in and through the good we do and receive from those around us.

This initially often sounds rather odd, even foreign, to us, until you think about it for just a moment. If you were to call to mind, for instance, your three favorite memories of those times when you felt most alive, most content and joyful, and most in touch with your own sense of your true self – that is, if you recall memories of when you felt great – I’m guessing they were not solely, or even primarily, memories of when you received some honor or exercised great power, but rather were connected to your relationships with others: wonderful meals, important conversations, moments of tender care and shared service, and more.

Which is finally what the kingdom of God is all about. It’s not some other kingdom God establishes, but rather the original, authentic kingdom for which God prepared us before the beginning of time, that realm in which we are valued and honored as the children of God and freed to treat others the same.

Prayer: Dear God, draw us into your kingdom – even here, even now in our everyday relationships – that we might find our meaning, purpose, and greatness in and through our connection to you and those around us. In Jesus’ name, Amen.