The Long Road of Christian Life
Job is asking God questions because he wants to understand things as God understands them, to see as God sees. The Letter to the Hebrews reminds the Church that God understands humanity not only as its maker, but as one who has lived a human life. God has seen exactly as we see. Throughout Mark's telling of the gospel, Jesus is concerned about keeping his true identity a secret, not wanting people to see him completely until the time is right. He lays groundwork to help his followers understand what they will see when all is made clear: dramatic scenes of divine presence, like his baptism in the Jordan; miracles of restoring sight to people who literally cannot see; opening their figurative eyes to injustice in the world that has no place in God's kingdom; correcting them, gently or not, when they have the wrong idea about this entire project. Jesus wants people to see clearly, but not until they are ready; the truth to be revealed is not an easy one to take in.
A few weeks ago we heard the conversation between Peter and Jesus where Peter confess that he believes Jesus to be the long-await Messiah, the Christ. Peter then immediately tells Jesus he's doing the Christ-thing wrong and tries to discourage him from living out that role as it needs to be. Jesus corrects him harshly, casting him in the role of Satan—the Adversary—and telling him to stand aside as long as he is going to hold these ideas. Peter is disappointed that his friend is going to continue with a plan that includes suffering and death, but he receives the correction and the group continues on their way.
At this point in the story, Jesus has set his sights on Jerusalem and the coming crucifixion. He knows what is to happen there and has the difficult twin tasks of preparing his friends to continue their work without him and preparing himself for what is to come. Just prior to today's passage, Jesus has explained to a rich young man that he must give up all that he owns if he wishes to enter the kingdom of God. The man leaves, greatly saddened. Whether because he cannot bring himself to give up his possessions or because he is grieving what he must give away before he returns to join Jesus, we are not told. Regardless of the cause of the young man's sadness, it has been made clear that entry to the kingdom of God is achieved through self-sacrifice. This prospect is no more appealing to the people of Jesus's community than it is to most of us. The disciples are left wondering about this connection between the glorious kingdom of God and the need to give up our self-centredness in this life as they return to their journey, the cross on the distant horizon.
While Jesus is preparing himself for what is come, James and John are arguing. Unlike Peter, whose objection to Jesus's plan was based in fear of losing his friend and teacher, James and John are arguing about themselves. They are in a hot dispute over who will profit the most from the suffering and death that Jesus has told them is his to endure. These brothers have, in an entirely human move, skipped over that impending unpleasantness and jumped right to the glory on the other side. They wish to be at the right and left of Jesus when he comes into his kingdom. They've already forgotten the conversations with Peter and the young man. The cost of entry to the kingdom is high.
It may sound pretty good to be the guys on the right and left of the ruler in the kingdom of God. Mortal kings have it pretty good, so a divine king is going to be even better, right? And if there's unimaginable wealth and glory to go around, then why wouldn't James and John argue over who's going to end up with the most of it? The piece they're missing, perhaps willfully forgetting, is that suffering bit. Jesus begins to reveal his kingship and glory, in unquestionable terms, at the crucifixion. It becomes clear to even the most clueless observer that this was no average zealot or petty thief being executed. As the centurion says in St Matthew's Passion, "Truly this man was the Son of God!" When we read the records of the crucifixion or see it portrayed in art, Unknowingly, they want to be the men crucified with Jesus, on his right and left. These are the positions that James and John are squabbling over.
I imagine an exasperated Jesus at this point. He's been working for years to impress on the disciples what this whole project is about. They've just seen a string of miracles and difficult conversations about what is to come very soon and, here they are, absorbed entirely in how they might profit more from it than their friends. As though salvation and life with God were a competition. Jesus asks the two men, "Can you be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?" James and John misunderstand this when Jesus asks. They know of his baptism in the Jordan by his cousin John, the beginning of his public ministry and the first of many signs that Jesus is destined for great things. What they miss is that baptism is not an action one takes upon one's self. It is a passion—an archaic word meaning something to be endured—that is done to one person by another. Jesus approaches his baptism by John willingly, even happily. What the disciples do not fully realize is that there is another baptism to come. Another passion. The cross, awaiting the body of our Lord. This passion, done to Jesus by another, he will also approach willingly. There is no happiness in this one. This one is sacrifice for the sake of others. This one is a painful self-emptying.
To be a follower of Christ is to walk the road that Jesus walks. This road will take us to the glory of God's kingdom, without question. But the way there leads us to the foot of the cross first. To follow Jesus, to know God in this deeply intimate and personal way, requires that we begin by giving up something of ourselves. We approach the water, like Jesus at the Jordan, and we give up our lives. Not in a foolish, rash, selfish act. But to make space for God. We put down our lives so that we can take up new ones. Lives not of our own but that we share with Christ and all those who have also been baptized into his death and resurrection.
The way of Christian life is beautiful, but it is not easy. There is glory waiting for us, but the road between here and there has plenty of bumps, hurdles, and stumbling blocks. There is no athlete who wins a medal or place on a podium without countless hours of training, sweating, falling and persistently getting up to try again. These hours of sacrifice in the name of training body, mind, heart, and spirit to work together culminate in moments of wonder when we see bodies moving with nearly-perfect grace, form, and power. In those moments, the passion of training reveals the glory of God's genius in creating these bodies and remind us of everything they can do. All of the bumps and hurdles we've overcome to finally rise to the mountaintop and the view is truly awesome. And then we see Jesus, beckoning us onward. The path continues on and there are yet more mountains to climb, with more bumps and hurdles and even more wondrous views.
James and John are right about one thing in their argument about place in the kingdom of God. We should want to be near Jesus. As close as we can get. Not because we think that closeness is going to elevate us over our neighbour, but because Jesus is how we get there in the first place. Jesus is our guide on the road, our trainer in the gym, our physician when we're hurt, our friend when we're discouraged, our consolation when we are betrayed, our helper when we fall, and the first and loudest to cheer when we succeed. Life in Christ does not mean our journey will be easy; it means that we will never again take a single step alone. This is good news indeed.
