In the Hot Seat
Mark 10:35-45
Sermon
by Cathy A. Ammlung

Everybody who thinks you could have done better than James or John, raise your hands. "If I worked up the nerve to ask Jesus to do anything I ask him to," most of us probably think, "I'd have done a lot better than their lame-brained request. Sitting next to Jesus when he comes into his glory -- what nerve! I'd have asked for something much more worthy -- an end to war, or a cure for cancer, or at least for wisdom. Good grief, what was Jesus thinking when he recruited those two?" 

Maybe we should call it the Hot Seat Syndrome. Anyone who's ever watched the game show, Who Wants To Be A Millionaire, has groaned, shouted, and rolled eyes at contestants who choke on the dumbest questions. "For Pete's sake!" we mutter, "How did these nitwits ever get through the Fastest Finger questions and into that 'Hot Seat'?" 

Of course, many of the contestants have admitted that they said the very same thing, only to find themselves choking when the cameras zoomed into their sweaty faces. "It's a lot different when you're in the Hot Seat and not sitting in front of your television," one man said ruefully as he agonized between two answers that were perfectly obvious to everyone else. 

We need to remember that the gospel doesn't allow us to be uninvolved spectators to its drama and action. No, fast finger or slow, from the moment of our baptism, we were drawn right into a lifelong Hot Seat, with not Regis Philbin as host, but our Lord Jesus calling us by name to be his disciples. Of course, this gospel isn't a game show; and the Final Answer (worth our life, not a mere million bucks) has already been provided by our gracious Host. But there are all kinds of questions he might ask us. They could be summed up by just one: "Do you get it?"  And whatever our response to that question, I seriously doubt most of us would fare much better than did James or John. 

Picture the scene. The disciples had seen Jesus heal the sick, expel demons, forgive sins, and teach people about God in an unforgettably intimate, powerful way. They had, through Peter's bold words, confessed Jesus as the chosen and anointed One of God, the One who would bring God's redemption to Israel. Yet Jesus was heading to Jerusalem to die. He'd already told his followers this, and now he'd said it again. Oh, he mentioned something about rising on the third day, but it was almost impossible to get past those hard words: Handed over. Treated shamefully. Suffer. Die. Jesus made those words sound both inevitable and necessary. But how could the disciples, then or now, wrap their minds around that? How could One who had demonstrated the power, wisdom, and compassion of God experience suffering and death? 

We think we know better, of course. The phrase, "Jesus died for our sins," rolls easily from our lips. For one thing, it's been pounded into our heads for nearly 2,000 years! But, if we were placed in the Hot Seat and asked, "Do you get it?" we'd probably blow it. 

So let's phrase that question a little differently. "How is the suffering and death of Jesus related to his power and authority to heal the sick, cast out demons, forgive sins, and bring the Kingdom of God into our midst?" 

With careful thought and a little prompting, we might say something like this: Jesus' willingness to suffer and die for us proved that he was worthy to have and to wield the power and authority of God. And, as far as it goes, we'd be right. 

But that shouldn't be our Final Answer. Our response basically follows the rule that leaders need to "pay their dues." If somebody is willing to suffer for a cause or for the sake of others (and hasn't just required others to do so), it gives that person greater credibility when he or she then wields authority. It gives that person a certain moral authority to take action, make decisions, demand loyalty. 

And there's truth in that notion, even when we apply it to Jesus. Saint Paul himself quoted an early Christian hymn: "[he] became obedient unto death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and given him the name above all names ..." (Philippians 2:8). Jesus receives not just moral, but divine authority, because of his death for our sake. Assuming that Jesus' words about dying and rising even registered with his disciples, they might have remembered Isaiah's poem about the Suffering Servant of Israel and made a connection to Jesus' words. That's giving them the benefit of the doubt. But their willingness to drink Jesus' cup of suffering as their necessary "dues paying" for the favor they requested does point in this direction. 

But the question about the connection between Jesus' suffering and his right to do deeds of heavenly power cuts deeper than this preliminary answer probes, and there's the problem. It's one thing to think of suffering as a sort of necessary dues paying. "Okay, let's just get it over with and get on to the good stuff," we might exclaim. "Get Jesus off his cross and on his throne right quick. Fast forward us through suffering and give us our crown of glory." 

It's another thing altogether to see suffering and death -- especially the kind of godforsaken death that Mark portrays for Jesus -- as the actual shape of Jesus' power and authority. His betrayal, suffering, and death weren't merely the regrettably necessary precursors to his divine right to forgive, heal, and rule eternally. Instead, his suffering and death actually demonstrated the reality -- the shape, nature, and scope -- of his reign. 

Mull that over slowly. It's important. It's also almost inconceivable. Jesus tried to simplify it when his disciples got bent out of shape because James and John had the Fastest Fingers among them. He addressed their desire to share his authority in ruling and judging nations and peoples. "Are you willing to share my cup of pain and baptism into death? That's fine, as far as it goes, but it has nothing to do with seating arrangements in the Kingdom. And if you want my kind of authority, get ready to wear an apron, not a crown." 

Jesus' ability -- his power and his authority -- to forgive sins was shaped strictly by the cross. Giving his life as a ransom for many was the actual way he exerted his authority. Serving rather than being served was the way he wielded divine power. Stooping lower than the lowliest slave, descending to more Godforsaken depths than the worst sinner -- this was not the prelude to but the way in which he drew God's kingdom into our midst. His rising from death ensured that his strange way of exerting authority would last forever, to the final defeat of everything that would oppose it. 

Do you get it yet? 

The only power we wield is the power to forgive sins, in Jesus' name and by his cross-shaped authority. Forgiving others isn't the prelude to glory or power; it's the nature of it for us. We'll never "get" the nature of the Kingdom except that divine forgiveness has defined it and shaped it for us. 

The only sort of power Jesus' followers have to rule or judge others is the power to serve them, in his name and according to his model. We have the power to get out of God's way as our Lord acts in our neighbors' lives. We have the power to put their needs above our own. We have full authority to give our lives in loving service to our neighbor. We have the absolute right to allow Jesus' way of exerting power and authority to shape our lives, our decisions, and our actions. 

Is this practical in this world? Nope. Does this play havoc with the normal routines of power, success, authority, and judgment? You bet. Do you think most people will "get it"? God willing, many will. It would be nice if we got it, of course!

What it means, though, is that we're always in a Hot Seat of our Lord's devising. Humble service, self-giving love, and forgiving again and again are not one-shot deals. They're not our "dues," quickly paid and as quickly forgotten. Every moment of our lives, Jesus is asking us, "Do you get it? Do you 'get' my Final Answer? Do you 'get' how I do things?" 

But we're not alone in that Hot Seat. Jesus' throne of power is an ongoing Hot Seat, shaped until the Last Day by two rough pieces of wood. He is always there shaping his Final Answer for us. His answer is always, "The Kingdom of God is at hand! Repent! Believe the Good News that your sins are forgiven and the Kingdom is yours!" A Roman soldier "got it" in the moment of Jesus' apparent defeat. Seeing the way in which Jesus died, he exclaimed, "Surely this man was the Son of God!" 

God grant that we "get it," too, and live our lives in thankful response to Jesus' Final Answer. May it be ours, as well. And that's my final answer! Amen.

CSS Publishing Company, Sermons for Sundays after Pentecost, by Cathy A. Ammlung