Some of the disciples felt double-crossed. They expected perks, priority, position. Instead they got a double-cross in which the more VERTICAL their relationship to God, the more HORIZONTAL their relationships with others.

We all have a favorite restaurant. What's yours? [Make this an interactive moment in the sermon by having the people call out their favorites.] What's the one restaurant in which the food is just to your liking, the service gracious, and the ambiance enfolds you in comfort and well-being?

Depending on your taste and style, this favorite dining spot could be an elegant, pricey little bistro or a neighborhood greasy spoon. Sometimes both types of establishments hold a particular appeal for us and the one we choose depends on our mood, our company or the occasion.

As far as we know, Jesus never turned down the chance to sit down and dine with friends new or old. In fact, the best in-a-nutshell description of Jesus' ministry here on Earth has been succinctly summed up as "Jesus ate good food with bad people." The types of meals, the situations, the company, the locations vary greatly throughout the gospels.

But in all of Jesus' dining experiences there is one common denominator. Wherever he went, with whomever he sat down at table, Jesus was always dining in the shadow of a cross. Whether the "meal" Jesus sat down to was a literal feast for the body or a symbolic supper that fed the soul, he always ate under the shadow of his cross-filled future.

Bethany Suppers

Among the more literal "meals" Jesus shared were what we might best call Bethany Suppers. These were occasions filled with the presence of good friends and family. Bethany-type suppers offered Jesus, and his disciples, a moment of rest and renewal. A Bethany Supper offered Jesus a kind of spiritual and emotional "pit stop," a refreshing place that prepared him for Jerusalem. At these restful moments, Jesus enjoyed the company of some of his best friends Mary, Martha, Lazarus. Bethany was a place where he could hang out, where he could eagerly engage people in conversation and not worry about being trapped.

Jesus loved Bethany Suppers. They were his favorite dining experiences.

Yet Bethany Suppers were not moments of self-indulgent "timeouts" for Jesus. At Bethany Suppers, Jesus extended himself outward to the community of his friends and followers. At these times he was able to be present to the present.

Bethany Suppers highlight the horizontal beam of the cross. The horizontal portion of the cross the "crossbar" points out sideways in both directions, extending outstretched "arms" across the earth as though to reach out to every living thing in the community of creation. In these Bethany meals, Jesus was in the midst of the people, simultaneously leading and serving them by simply loving them and making every aspect of himself accessible. The horizontal focus of Bethany Suppers made them places of joy, but also allowed them to be places of reflection and remembrance.

While the horizontal shadow of the cross is most prevalent at Bethany Suppers, the fact that Jesus also found them to be places for prayer affirms that the vertical beam of the cross was not completely obscured. The up and down post that forms the "backbone" of the cross points toward God, drawing a straight line the shortest distance between two points between heaven and Earth, between Creator and creation, between the divine and the human. Jesus found prayer with his Bethany Supper comrades a perfect time to "bring his Father out to meet his friends." Both the horizontal and the vertical were present.

Gethsemane Suppers

A second type of nourishment was obtained by Jesus at moments we might call Gethsemane Suppers. At Gethsemane, in the garden, Jesus faced his greatest soul struggle. Here, in the evening prior to his death, Jesus left the companionship of the Passover supper table to finish dining alone. It was a bitter dessert. One of his disciples was about to betray him. The specter of an excruciating death on a cross faced him.

But at this moment of tremendous conflict and torment, the shadow of the vertical beam of the cross fell squarely upon the praying Jesus in the garden. Jesus' Gethsemane Supper turned sweet as he raised his hands and heart upward toward the heavenly presence of his Father's will. It was in the velvet shadow of the vertical beam of the cross that Jesus could pray, at last, "not what I want, but what you want" (Mark 14:36).

Yet even in the midst of this most vertical of moments in Jesus' life and mission, the horizontal beam of the cross is present as well. It is because of Jesus' sacrificial love, his commitment to be a servant for others, even to the point of giving his own life for the sake of others, that the vertical connection must be so strong and deep. Jesus can stretch out his arms on the horizontal beam of the cross only because his unique vertical relationship with God, his divine Sonship, keeps him upright.

In today's gospel text, James and John are not concerned about the quality of the suppers they have shared with Jesus. Their focus is neither vertical nor horizontal. It is only inward. Concerned with their own future status in Jesus' ministry, these two disciples decide to queue up early for good seats in the heavenly future.

Instead of affirming the quality of their roles in the kingdom, Jesus accuses James and John of being no different from status-seeking, power-mongering Gentiles. Far from offering them sanctified seating arrangements in eternity, Jesus tells his disciples that they must be slaves, servants, the last and least and lowest of all, if they wish to be great. Discipleship, Jesus insisted, is not a direct ticket to some eternal easy street. Rather it is a commitment to life as a servant for others. A heavenly destination is not to be their "goal" in life. A life of humility and service for others must thoroughly replace even the concept of a "goal."

Don't doubt for one minute that James and John felt double-crossed. James and John, as well as the other disciples who finally heard and began to understand Jesus' words, felt they had been double-crossed. As disciples of the Son of Man, it went without saying that perks, priority, privilege and position would be part of the deal. Instead, Jesus' disciples get this double-cross a discipleship which denies the self and defines success as service and humble ministrations to others.

Who doesn't know what it feels like to be "double-crossed"? Who hasn't been sure that someone is on our side, that something is going our way, only to find out later when the truth is revealed that what we thought would be our just desserts becomes a pie in the face?

Humanly speaking, being "double-crossed" is a wholly negative experience. In fact, traditionally, our culture has tended to reserve a bad connotation for anything bearing the "double" label. To work twice as hard is to pull "double duty"; in espionage, a spy who betrays both sides is a "double agent"; a word or phrase that drips with innuendo is said to be a "double-entendre"; judgments that have ominous consequences are "double-edged"; to be tried for the same crime twice is to experience "double jeopardy."

Perhaps it has been the influence of the Age of Reason and the scientific conviction that all inquiries must have one right answer only that has made anything tagged with the label "double" a questionable or downright rotten experience. Postmodern thought is gradually beginning to wean us away from our love affair with either/or, and is teaching us to appreciate the complex nuances of both/and. Perhaps now we are best ready to understand the positive power of the "double-cross." Perhaps now we can best respond to the personal challenge that Jesus brought to his disciples both those in the first century and those in the twenty-first in the form of a "double-cross."

Jesus' "double-cross" discipleship, however, was the call to experience the power of the vertical crossbeam combined with the compassion of the horizontal crossbeam. It was this "double-cross" that informed Jesus' sense of mission and enabled him to carry out his sacrificial gift of love for all. Jesus understood, and experienced in his ultimate sacrifice, that the more powerfully vertical one's relationship to God, the more profoundly horizontal one's relationship to others. It was as Jesus reached out and claimed his unique relationship as the Divine Son that he was able to stretch out his arms on the cross as the Suffering Servant, taking on all humanity's sins.

Have you been double-crossed? Are you a double-cross disciple? Is the power and passion of the vertical sustaining you for the presence and compassion of the horizontal?

Will you double-cross others?

Alternative Sermon Idea

Downplay the "double-cross" theme and work harder at developing a typology of suppers based on Jesus' ministry.

Gethsemane Suppers tend to be more alone.

Bethany Suppers are mealtime experiences with friends.

MountZion Meals are high moments with God specifically.

Emmaus Suppers are surprise manifestations and revelations of what has already been going on in your life, but which you were unable to "see" until that moment.

Mount of Olives Suppers are emotional lows even when others around you are high (e.g., Palm Sunday). Crying times? Times for tears of sadness and post-achievement depression? The Mount of Olives is the name given to a long ridge above the eastern side of Jerusalem. You can't get from Jerusalem to Bethany and vice versa without crossing the Mount of Olives. How sad that a city that meant "place of peace" did not know the things that make for peace.