On several
occasions I have been to events where either the mayor of Long Beach or the
mayor of Los Angeles was present. A
couple weeks ago I attended an event where former governor George Deukmejian
was also in attendance.
I found it
interesting to see how there is always a group of people huddling close around
each of these leaders, hoping to catch a ride on their coattails. People who want to be seen alongside the most
powerful person in the room, maybe have their picture taken with them, and be
as close to them as possible, all in the hopes that some of their power and
fame will rub off on them.
I imagine that’s
how it was for James and John, the sons of Zebedee; or, as Jesus liked to call
them, the “sons of thunder.” They
believed that Jesus was a man of great power.
After all, Jesus had told them he was the one to bring about a new
kingdom, the “kingdom of God.” He was on
his way to being the man at the top, and James and John wanted to be right
there with him.
So they
asked: “Jesus, when you enter into your
power, can we be there right there with you?
Jesus said: “Um,
guys, you don’t get it. You have no idea
what you are asking. God’s kingdom is
not that kind of kingdom, and I am not that kind of leader. Do you really think you can share my kind of
power, my kind of leadership? Are you
really able to lead as I lead, endure what I endure, and suffer the
consequences that will result? Are you
able to drink of the cup from which I drink, and be baptized with the baptism
that I am baptized with?”
Bible scholar
Marcus Borg points out that “drinking the cup” and “baptism” are, in fact,
images of death. And Jesus had just
finished talking about his death, his execution at the hands of the state, when
James and John made their request.
But James and John
were either undaunted or unclear on what Jesus is talking about, because they
answered: “Yes, we can drink from your cup; yes, we can be baptized with your
baptism.”
To which Jesus
responded: “Yes, you will endure what I will endure. But whether or not that means you will share
in my glory or sit by my side, only God knows.”
All the rest of
the disciples heard what was going on.
They heard James and John make their request, and this got them all
angry. How dare they ask for the places
of honor? Did they think they were
better than all the rest?
Jesus said to
them: “You don’t understand. Haven’t you been listening to what I’ve been
saying? God’s kingdom is not what you
all think. In the kingdoms of this
world, you know what it’s like. But
among you, it’s not going to be like that.
“Haven’t I
already told you the fate that awaits me?
I have; three times I’ve told you!
Death upon a cross is what awaits me.
“My way is
different from the way of the world, and the world hates what is
different. My power is not what you
think. My power will not be displayed on
a throne; my power will be displayed on the cross.”
It is a difficult
teaching. We still struggle with
it. So many people carry with them
“visions of rapture” (a concept not found in scripture), anticipating a Jesus
who sits on a glorious throne of power.
A kingdom-leader
who is humiliated on a cross seems foolish to them. As Paul wrote to the Corinthians, “The
message of the cross is foolishness.”
The fact that Christ was crucified is “a stumbling block to Jews and
foolishness to Gentiles…. [But] God’s foolishness is wiser than human wisdom,
and God’s weakness is stronger than human strength… God chose what is foolish
in the world… God chose what is weak, low and despised… that’s why my focus is
on the crucified Christ” [1
Corinthians 1:18-2:2].
Power in the
kingdom of God does not start at the top and trickle down. Power starts at the bottom and trickles
up. Power is not found in the palace,
but among the poor. Paul goes on to say
to the Corinthians, “God chose what the world considers low-class and low-life
– what is considered to be nothing – to reduce what is considered to be
something to nothing.” Followers of
Jesus are called to go to the bottom, to share the cup and baptism of Jesus by
dying to themselves. Instead of putting ourselves at the center of our life, we
put God at the center; which of course means putting our neighbor at the
center. As it says in the first letter
of John, you can’t love God and hate your neighbor.
What Jesus is
saying to James and John and the rest of the disciples and to us is this: It’s not a “promotion,” to sit by my side, to
accompany me, to drink from my cup, to share my work, – at least not in the
sense that you’re thinking. It means
humbling yourself. It means stepping
back from the limelight, into the shadows, the dangerous places, where there’s real work to be done. It means associating with the poor, and
bringing good news to them: news that
the wealthy and powerful may not want you to share with them, news that may get
you in trouble with those in positions of authority.
I just finished
reading a book I got from the public library about the lives of inner-city
Black and Latino boys in Oakland. The
book talks about how, in theory, those in positions of power are there, at the
top, to pull those at the bottom up and out of their lives of poverty, gangs
and drugs … but in reality they do more to push them down than lift them
up.
And the reason,
according to this book, is because any top-down approach is doomed to fail. Any situation where someone at the top,
someone who has all the power and authority, tries to reach down to someone at
the bottom will not work, especially if those at the top try to help without
sharing their power and authority and treating those they are helping as
equals.
So whether the
one on top is using their power for good or for bad, the end result is
failure. They may succeed in controlling
and subduing the one on the bottom, at least in the short term, but they will
not be helping them. Not as long as they
attempt to do so from a higher position, a position of power and authority.
The book mentioned
the role of community centers. These
centers are helpful, as long as they do not become the tools of the criminal
justice system. They are helpful as long
as they help from an equal level, and not from a position of power. Unfortunately, normal funding for community
centers from foundations and non-criminal-justice government agencies has
declined, while funding from criminal-justice entities has become
available. So the counselors and
community organizers at the centers have been replaced by probation officers,
who – due to their position – are seen as having authority over those they are trying to help, rather than working with them
at an equal level. And as a result, they
lose legitimacy. Not only is this not
helpful, those at the bottom come to resent
having so much power lorded over them, and they end up acting out in rebellion
against that power.
When help came
from volunteers and community organizers and people willing to work from an
equal level and not from a position of authority or privilege, only then is the
help truly effective.
You may recall
that back in the days of Israel’s history, the nation was governed by judges,
but the people really wanted a king. You
can read about it in the first book of Samuel.
God didn’t want the people to have a king, but the people insisted. God said to them: “a king will not be like
one of your judges. A king will take
your sons. A king will have all the
power, and will exercise that power over you, and you won’t like it” [1 Samuel
8:11-17].
But still the
people insisted.
Many of Jesus’s
followers expected him to be that kind
of king. Many today still do! A king who exercises power over his subjects, a king who rules on
high. Throughout history, many have
wanted Christ’s body, the church, to act with that kind of power and authority
in the world, and (sad to say) many times the church has tried to exercise that kind of authoritarian, top-down power.
The results have
always been a disaster.
The power Jesus
exercised was very different. To see
this, all you’ve got to do is look at the people Jesus hung out with, and how
he related to them. Jesus hung out with
tax collectors, prostitutes, the poor, the sick, the blind.
All the
“respectable” people of his day didn’t hang out with the likes of them, because
all those people – the people Jesus hung out with – were spiritually
unclean. Their mere presence would
contaminate any gathering they were a part of.
The teachings of
faith did instruct people to care for
the poor and the sick, but you did so by setting out some food for them on the
back porch, as Tim Chester points out in his book A Meal with Jesus. You fed
them from the back porch, but you didn’t dare invite them into your house, to
sit at your table, and share in your banquet.
To do that would be to identify with them, to declare that you and they
are equal.
So when Jesus did
just that, the “respectable” people didn’t get it. If Jesus was such a great teacher, a man of
power and authority, why would he choose to sit and dine and relate to people
who were unclean?
But Jesus knew
that the poor need more than financial help.
The sick need more than physical healing. The blind need more than the ability to
see. The sinners need more than a
pronouncement of forgiveness. These
things are important; but they are not enough.
What they need,
most of all, is community, friendship, love.
Tim Chester writes, “People don’t want to be projects. The poor need a welcome to replace their
marginalization, inclusion to replace
their exclusion, a place where they matter to replace their powerlessness. They need the community. They need Christian community.”
Timothy Keller,
in The Prodigal God, writes: “Jesus’s teaching consistently attracted the
irreligious while offending the Bible-believing, religious people of his
day. However… our churches today do not
have this effect. The kind of outsiders
Jesus attracted are not attracted to contemporary churches… We tend to draw
conservative, button-down, moralistic people.
The licentious and liberated or the broken and marginal avoid
church. That can only mean one
thing. If the preaching of our ministers
and the practice of our parishioners do not have the same effect on people that
Jesus had, then we must not be declaring the same message that Jesus did”
[Timothy Keller, quoted in Tim Chester’s A
Meal With Jesus].
Jesus had no
problem identifying with those who are last, because he knew that a great
reversal is coming. Those who exalt
themselves now are humbled in the kingdom of God. Those who humble themselves now are exalted
in the kingdom of God.
Consider the
story Jesus told of the king’s banquet.
All the respectable people were invited:
the wealthy, the elite, the powerful.
But they all made excuses and didn’t come. I don’t know why. Maybe they were worried that they themselves
would not receive a seat of honor, so they stayed home.
So the king
welcomed to his banquet the poor, the people off the streets, those who are
normally excluded from the banquets of the rich and powerful, those who
normally aren’t considered respectable enough for either the palace or the
church.
Well, no king
would actually do such a thing! Only in
this wild, fanciful story that Jesus told, would a king do something like
that. A king would only invite – and
would only allow into his home – those whose power and authority and
respectability were comparable to his own.
To dine with the unrespectable people from the street, to welcome them
as friends, to relate to them as equals:
that’s not how the kings of this world behave! To do so, a king would have to give up some
or all of his power. To identify with
the outcasts of the world, to dine with them and establish a relationship with
them over the table, is to invite the world to treat you as if you were one of them!
No king would do
that.
But our God is
not that kind of king.
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