Day of the Church Year: 21st Sunday after Pentecost
Scripture Passage: Mark 10:35-45
My senior year of high school, I along with three other seniors, were voted Most Likely To Succeed. In my small Minnesota high school, all of the people who were voted into various categories, categories like Most Artistic, Funniest, Best Car, were photographed for the school yearbook. Traditionally, the students who were voted Most Likely To Succeed headed down to the school cafeteria kitchen, put on hairnets and plastic gloves, and pretended to wash dishes for the photo shoot. I was on the yearbook staff, and I remember chuckling at what I thought at the time was an ironic and humorous photo—people washing dishes as people who have succeeded. (It’s so horrible, I know.) So, as per usual, the four of us who were voted Most Likely To Succeed made our way to the school cafeteria kitchen and were just looking around for props when one of the women who had worked in the cafeteria for decades greeted us and asked what we were doing in the kitchen. As we stood looking at her and wondering how to respond, it was one of those moments of realization, shame, and remorse. We mumbled something about the yearbook photo, and she asked us, quite rightly, “Do you realize how disrespectful that is—to imply that people who serve school lunch and wash dishes have not succeeded?” We quickly put away our props, walked out of the kitchen, and took the photo in the boardroom where the school board met.
I still cringe when I think about this episode, 24 years later. I grew up in a family where we prioritized service above all things. My parents were actively resettling refugees, serving on the food shelf and public library boards, and helping in many and various ways in our church community. My dad served as pastor of our church, my mom a social worker in DSC and then in a women’s domestic violence shelter. Still, I didn’t get it. I didn’t get that service lies at the heart of a Christian life and is its glory, whether that’s volunteering or in our daily work. The women who served in our school cafeteria got up every morning to ensure that the large portion of students in my school who qualified for free and reduced lunch also got to eat breakfast—in order to be ready for a day of learning. These women who served in our school cafeteria were indispensable members of the school staff who made learning possible and helped prevent malnourishment among the student body.
In today’s Jesus story, James and John request: Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask. Which is just humorous to start off with. Jesus plays along. What is it you want me to do for you? He asks. They want to sit one at his right hand and one at his left in his glory. Their bravado in making this request makes me laugh. They think they can drink the cup Jesus drinks and be baptized with the baptism of Jesus too. Jesus tells them the right to sit at his left and right is not his to grant and then teaches them: Whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. “Glory” in Jesus’ eyes is not power, prestige, or honor. “Glory” is serving, caring for another, humility.
And we know it, right? When we have spent an hour or a morning or a lifetime serving others, we love it. Thinking back on the youth and young adult mission trips of years past, what we loved were not the sights we saw so much as the service projects we completed. Sure, we went to a Broadway show in New York City, but what we loved was volunteering at the needle exchange. Sure, we saw the Lincoln Memorial, the Vietnam Memorial, the Smithsonian in DC, but what we loved was DC Central Kitchen, chopping vegetables. Sure, we got to freeze in our unheated cabins in an Oregon June, but what we loved was getting our hands dirty in the community garden and pulling apart used computers for recycling.
The joyous high points of our lives are often not the moments of power and prestige and honor but the moments of service and love. In our families, caring for young children, raising the next generation. In our jobs when we get to contribute to our community or to the lives of particular people. In our volunteering at heat respite or caring for this property or assisting with worship leadership or making breakfast on a Sunday morning. We may or may not receive adulation for our service, commendation from our boss, or appreciation from our families. We may or may not be recognized for how we contribute to the common good. I know that, I for one, have failed at times to recognize all the people who make the Grace community what it is. You all pour out your hearts for this place, for each other in so many different ways.
The deep irony of James and John’s request is that the height of Jesus’ glory lies not in gathering a crowd to hear a parable or in performing miracles. The height of Jesus’ glory are the hours he spends on the cross. Jesus spends at least the last year of his life teaching and preaching, healing and casting out demons, befriending and feeding, declaring: The kingdom of God has come near! And because he does, because he subtly defies the emperor, because he challenges the social structures, because he not does avoid association with anyone for any reason, he is killed. Despite pressure to stop loving people, to stop challenging an unjust system, Jesus continues and is killed. His crucifixion and death are the height of his glory, a radical identification with those who mattered least in his society, a willingness to continue his mission despite the risks, an unconditional love for all humanity.
Friends, if we want to sit at Jesus’ right and left hand in his glory, we don’t ascend to high, powerful places. Instead, we wash our hands, put on plastic gloves, and feed one another. We use whatever gifts and skills we have to contribute to our community. We forgive each other, and we love each other even when it’s hard. The glory Jesus has to offer is a life of service and love, a willingness to continue to follow the call of God even when it’s risky. But that’s the glory that brings true joy. Thanks be to God! Amen.