Matthew 20:20-28 · A Mother’s Request
Bad Timing
Matthew 20:20-28
Sermon
by Thomas Long
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Some people are masters of bad timing. These are the people who burst into a party wearing a lamp shade and a hula skirt just as the conversation has taken a serious turn, a turn, say, toward a discussion of human rights or world hunger. Masters of bad timing buy high and sell low. They are the folks who try to rouse the hayriding young people to one more chorus of "She'll Be Coming 'Round The Mountain" just as the mood has shifted to the romantic. They telephone with questions about corrections to the minutes of the Christian Education Committee during the fourth quarter of the Super Bowl. Once, some years ago, they traded in their Edsels for Studebakers. They cannot help themselves; they are masters of bad timing.

The mother of the sons of Zebedee -- that is, the mother of James and John -- is such a person. Taken in isolation, what she does in this story is perfectly understandable. If we cut her a bit of slack, it is perhaps even admirable. She is a mother looking out for her children. In context, however, this woman, like a blacksmithing major at the local vocational college, is a living embodiment of bad timing.

What she does, of course, is to act on her concern about the job potential of her two sons. No surprise there; parents have been anxious about their children's vocational advancement as long as there have been children heading out into the world. Moreover, with James and John, there was undoubtedly reason for apprehension. After appearing to have settled on the family fishing business, the two brothers had abruptly gone into the admittedly shaky field of discipleship (Matthew 4:21-22), and their mother is merely inquiring of their boss if the two had made a career mistake. How high can the boys reasonably expect to go up the ladder? "Would it be possible," she asks Jesus, "for them to be in top management when the kingdom comes? In fact, if it's not too much to ask, could one sit on your right hand and one of your left at the Board of Directors' table?"

There is nothing very pretty or very subtle about this mother's request, but there is also nothing very unusual about it either. Strong-willed parents are forever lobbying on behalf of their children; it happens all the time. Such a routine parental inquiry may well have gone unnoticed, forgotten along with the thousands of other stems and pieces of everyday conversation, noble and ignoble, that must surely have passed among Jesus and his followers as they toiled along the road to Jerusalem, except for its unmistakable and outrageous bad timing.

It is the eternal misfortune of Ms. Zebedee to have raised the question of her sons' exaltation while there was still ringing in the air Jesus' moving speech about his own coming humiliation. Her craving questions about ambition, prominence and glory land directly on top of Jesus' words about the suffering, disgrace and crucifixion that await him. Jesus has just announced to his disciples that the road he is traveling will take him directly into the heart of shame, where he will be mocked and flogged and crucified. The mother of James and John could hardly have picked a more inopportune moment to pump Jesus for information about her sons' employee benefits program -- but such is the skill of a true master of bad timing.

But we should be fair to her. First of all, she has not been present to hear Jesus' speech. There is no way she could have known that her brassy bid for her sons to have the best seats at the kingdom power lunch would be spoken into the face of one of the gospel's most humble and sorrowful moments. Her bad timing -- as is usually the case with bad timing -- is simply a matter of poor luck (or, more likely, the overlapping of her story and Jesus' speech about suffering is a piece of literary irony created by the gospel writer for dramatic and theological effect).

Second, she and her sons are by no means the only ones concerned about positions of honor and power. The rest of the disciples may wish to paint on meek faces and pretend to be shocked and hurt by Ms. Zebedee's chutzpah. But the fact that the other disciples, when they hear what she said, became peppery and aggravated (Matthew 20:24) is a sign that they, too, have been wondering about those choice places to the left and right of Jesus. They are less offended by Ms. Zebedee's brass than by the fact that she has broken in line and beat them to the punch.

The point, then, is not to single out the mother of James and John for our amusement or our scorn. True, what she does is an atrocious, almost ludicrous, example of bad timing, but the purpose of the story is not to make a comic figure out of her but, rather, to see ourselves in her, to discern the sort of bad timing that threatens to undo us all.

Let us try, then, to see ourselves in her, to grasp how her drive typifies and represents what is in us, too. First, this mother's question expresses a fundamental human craving for recognition. We all want that, too. Behind even the most humble and self-sacrificial face there is a human being who covets stature and credit. Andy Warhol predicted a future in which every person would achieve the universal human quest to be famous, but only for 15 minutes. A nineteenth century lighthouse keeper at Cape Hatteras wrote this prayer in his log: "O Lord, do not let any ship wreck upon the sea this night. But if it be Thy will for such to happen Lord, I beg Thee, let it happen here." He did not wish for a ship in distress, but, if it were going to happen anyway, why shouldn't he be the rescuer whose name got in the newspaper?

Much of the society we have built for ourselves is aimed at the crasser forms of acquisitiveness and jockeying for position. When the Chicago Chamber of Commerce held a contest to create a new promotional slogan for the city, one local newspaper columnist wryly suggested that a genuinely representative motto would be "Where's Mine?" The mother of James and John wants to know what all of the disciples want to know -- what all of us want to know: What's in this for me? Where's mine?

The second step is to admit that her bad timing is really ours as well. Ms. Zebedee can perhaps be pardoned for making an untimely entrance into the gospel story because she had no idea there was a gospel story -- but we do know the gospel story. To know the gospel and still to relish the spotlight, to lust for power and reward is a master stroke of bad timing.

Admittedly, in terms of drama, the mother of James and John chose one of the worst possible moments to press her case, but when do we think would have been a better time? Read through the pages of Matthew's gospel and see if you can find a more fortuitous moment for her to advance the cause of her sons. Perhaps she should have interrupted Jesus during the Sermon on the Mount just as he had proclaimed, "Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth" (Matthew 5:5). Or maybe she could have sidled up to Jesus with her power request just as he had warned a would-be follower, "Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head" (Matthew 8:20). Or what about the occasion when Jesus was sending out the twelve with no money and no luggage to do kingdom work -- to cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse lepers and cast out demons? (Matthew 10:8-10).

The point, of course, is that there simply is no suitable time in the gospel for self-serving ambition. She is not merely a moment or two off time; she is an eon out of phase. What makes her request for prestige and rank inappropriate is not that she picked the wrong instant but that she picked the wrong age. In the life and ministry of Jesus the world has shifted on its axis and the seasons of humanity have changed. The whole business of greed and power plays and stepping all over people on the way to achieving one's "personal best" is now a piece of permanent, eternal, immutable bad timing because in Jesus "the kingdom of heaven has come near" (Matthew 4:17).

So, the message of the gospel is not carpe diem, but "repent"; not "watch for the right moment to make your move," but "follow me"; not "vertical advancement," but "whoever wishes to be great among you must be your servant" (Matthew 20:26). Everything that once was in season is now obsolete. We can throw away our old clocks; we can cast our outdated calendars in the trash bin. The kingdom age of mercy and righteousness and peace has arrived; everything that rivals it is bad timing.

Many years ago in India, a group of men traveling through desolate country found a seriously wounded man lying beside the road. They carried him to the Christian mission hospital some distance away and asked the missionary physician who met them at the door if a bed was available for the man. The physician looked at the injured man and immediately saw that he was an Afghan, a member of the warring Patau tribe. "Bring him in," he said. "For him we have a bed."

When the physician examined the man, he found that an attacker had seriously injured his eyes and the man's sight was imperiled. The man was desperate with fear and rage, pleading with the doctor to restore his sight so that he could find his attacker and extract retribution. "I want revenge," he screamed. "I want to kill him. After that I don't care whether I am blind the rest of my life!"

The doctor told the man that he was in a Christian hospital, that Jesus had come to show us how to love and forgive others, even to love and forgive our enemies. The man listened but was unmoved. He told the doctor that Jesus' words about forgiveness and love were nice, but meaningless. Revenge was the only goal, vengeance the only reality. The doctor rose from his bedside, saying that he needed to attend to other patients. He promised to return that evening to tell the man a story, a story about a person who took revenge.

When he returned that evening, the doctor began his story. Long ago, he recounted, the British government had sent a man to serve as envoy to Afghanistan, but as he traveled to his new post, he was attacked on the road by a hostile tribe, accused of espionage, and thrown into a shabby makeshift prison. There was only one other prisoner, and the men suffered through their ordeal together. They were poorly clothed, badly fed and mistreated cruelly by the guards.

Their only comfort was a copy of the Book Of Common Prayer, which had been given to the envoy as a farewell gift by his sister in England. She had inscribed her name along with a message of good will on the first leaf. This book served the men not only as a source for their prayers but also as a diary, as a place to record their daily experiences. The margins of the prayer book became a journal of their anguish and their faith.

The two prisoners were never heard from again. Their families and friends waited for news that never came; they simply vanished without a word, leaving those who loved them in uncertain grief. Over 20 years later, a man browsing through a second-hand shop found the prayer book. How it got there, no one can say. But, after reading some of the journal entries in the margin, he recognized its value, located the sister whose name was in the front of the book, and sent it to her.

With deep heartache she read each entry. When she came to the last one, she noted that it was in a different handwriting. It said simply that the two prisoners had been taken from their cell, publicly flogged and then forced to dig their own graves before being executed. At that moment she knew what she must do. Her brother had died a cruel death at the hand of torturers in a run-down Afghan jail, and this injustice must be requited. She must exact revenge ... but Christian revenge.

She was not wealthy, the doctor continued, but she marshaled all the money she could and sent it to this mission hospital. Her instructions were that the money was to be used to keep a bed free at all times for a sick or wounded Afghan. This was to be her revenge for her brother's torture at the hands of Afghans and his death in their country.

The wounded man was quiet, silenced by this story of such strange revenge. "My friend," said the doctor, "you are now lying in that bed. Your care is her revenge."1 The sister knew the gospel, and because she knew the gospel she also knew that the time for vengeance was over. In Jesus Christ, revenge and hatred, which once seemed so urgent and timely, are now obsolete. The kingdom age of mercy and forgiveness and peace has arrived. Anything else is simply bad timing.


1. Peace Be With You, edited by Cornelia Lehn (Newton, Kansas: Faith and Life Press, 1980), pp. 67-68.

CSS Publishing Company, WHISPERING THE LYRICS, by Thomas Long