Sermon-That is The Question

Henry Moore - Three Seated Figures - 1975

A sermon given during the Sung Eucharist at St George’s Bloomsbury on Sunday 20th October September 2024 (Year B, Proper 24) based on readings from Isaiah 53.4-end, Hebrews 5.1-10 and Mark 10.35-45 (the request of James and John).

Jesus knew that one of the most effective ways that power and authority can be intentionally transferred – and withheld – is by asking questions. Do we know what we are asking?

I wonder what would have happened if Jesus had said ‘yes’ to James and John’s request to sit either side of Him in his glory?

How long it would be before the novelty of being placed above the other disciples wore off - and one or the other grew dissatisfied with sharing a joint-equal position? 

Well aware that I am projecting my own experience of sibling rivalry here, but something makes me feel that eventually the brothers would start bickering about who was higher in the pecking order - which of them was entitled to the position of maximum glory?

Although they present as a pair; their request masquerading as a mutual concern; their ambition is, I feel, singular. 

“You don’t understand what you are asking,” Jesus says. 

And in the form of further questions he makes clear that singular ambition is not a mindset we find in those who seek to live in the manner of his calling. By referring to acts that we now understand as the two great sacraments of Baptism and the Eucharist, which mark the beginning and end of his earthly ministry and in which we share - collectively.

“Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?” Jesus asks. 

Those who follow the way of Christ encounter one another through him. Life in Christ is, by definition, concerned with that which is beyond just ourselves. There can be nothing singular about it. 

Before starting as a volunteer at C4WS - the Camden Churches Winter Night Shelter - which begins again here in the New Year, I was offered some basic training in health and safety and safeguarding - as well as guidance about how to converse with guests. A great deal of this part of the training focused on the questions that new volunteers can often be tempted to ask:

What does it feel like being homeless? 
How do you keep your belongings safe?
Do you actually get any sleep on the streets?
How do you stay warm?
What do you eat?
Where do you go in the daytime?

They may driven by sympathy for the situation that person finds themselves in, but these questions erode their status as a human being, - addressing them only as a “homeless person”. 

When we ask someone questions in this way, whether we realise it or not, we reinforce our position and authority and diminish theirs.

While masquerading as a mutual concern; such questions are motivated by singular ambition. Not unlike the request of James and John.  

“You don’t understand what you are asking,” Jesus told them. The same could be said of many of us?!

The team at C4WS suggest engaging in conversation with guests only when they invite us to do so - and when doing so to use open questions that focus on the whole person, not just the “homeless person”. 

Asking questions in this way means we intentionally give away our status as “non-homeless” people.

Jesus knew that one of the most effective ways that authority can be intentionally transferred - or witheld - is by asking questions. 

“What is it you want me to do for you?” 

The ultimate transfer of power. Jesus knew what he was asking - and why. 

“What is it you want me to do for you?” is not a question he asks only of his closest followers, his disciples, but to all those he meets. 

It is very hard for us to do the same. “What is it you want me to do for you?” is a question that we are afraid of asking unconditionally. We worry about being taken advantage of. 

Before we consider asking “what is it you want me to do for you” we probably ask ourselves another question: ‘what’s in it for me?’ - or put in another way - ‘how can I exit this situation by surrendering as little as possible of what is mine?’

This underlying fear stems from the notion that we are in competition with each other - an idea deeply rooted in our society, where singular ambition is a benchmark for fulfilment. Where the most popular song requested at services marking the end of someone’s life is:

“I've lived a life that's full
I travelled each and every highway
And more, much more than this
I did it my way.”

The prophet Isaiah sees things rather differently : “All we like sheep have gone astray; we have all turned to our own way”. 

A verse from a passage known as one of the “Servant Songs” - a prophecy of Christ’s passion - describing the one who pours out himself to death, is numbered with the transgressors, yet bore the sins of many. 

“Who could have imagined his future?” The prophet asks?

It was a future Jesus knew. And it terrified him. As the Letter to the Hebrews reminds us, in the Garden of Gethsemane he “offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears” to our Heavenly Father on the night before he died. Jesus faced fear. The most extreme version of the fear we feel when choosing between acting for the good of ourselves or for the good of others. He conquered that fear because he knew that the choice was not about self-sacrifice but about relationship. True fulfilment - true success - is a by-product of intentionally giving our lives to one other than oneself.

When the other disciples find out what James and John asked Jesus, they are furious. While presented as a mutual concern, the disciples are angry that their status, their position, has been threatened. Annoyed that James and John nearly got one over on them. 

Jesus calls them together and explains that their reaction - like the request of James and John - is motivated by singular ambition.

He shows them a different way to think and act - His Way - by singing the servant song in his own words:

“Whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.” 

Which song will be the epitaph to our lives? Old Blue Eyes - or the Servant Song of Jesus? My Way or The Way?

Underlying that question is the difficult truth of what Life in Christ is all about. What it means to be a church - a community of disciples.

Do we genuinely prioritise the needs of others in what we think, say and do as that community?

Or do our acts of charity and mutual concern mask a singular ambition whether we realise it or not - the latter possibly being the more dangerous of the two?

Thinking about the questions we use when we meet one another can reveal whether we are concerned with giving away our authority and status or withholding it. And since as Christians we encounter each other through Christ, perhaps we ought to begin by considering how we address Him?  

Do we approach Jesus in the manner of James and John - “we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you."

Or do we approach Jesus as he approaches us? Handing out our hands and asking:

“What is it you want me to do for you?”

Only one of these leads to true greatness, for all.


Image : Three Seated Figures, Henry Moore, 1975 (Henry Moore Foundation)