One of the most dominating characteristics of our modern American culture is our worship of the free market. We live in a society where the free market reigns supreme. The free market determines which companies will profit and which will go out of business. The free market determines which political party will win the election. The free market determines which products will sell. The free market determines which ideas will triumph.

The free market is the people. The marketplace is where people shop for the best. In the marketplace the people are always asking the question, "What's in it for me?" In the marketplace the needs of the consumer reign supreme. In order for me to buy your widget, in order for me to vote for your candidate, in order for me to believe your idea, you must show me how it meets my needs. It must deliver on what it promises to give me. If it fails to do so, as a member of the marketplace I am free to choose another product that promises to better meet my needs.

Even the churches have not escaped the power of the marketplace. This is most evident in the current practice of "church shopping." This is a free market. People are free to shop for the religion, for the church, that best meets their needs. The churches that are best able to serve the needs of the consumer grow and thrive. The churches that fail to meet the needs of the consumer shrink and die. Some have looked to the empty, established state churches of Europe as classic examples of what happens when you don't have a free market. In many of those countries, there is one official state religion. It is given all sorts of privileges by the state. It gets to operate a religious monopoly. It is supported by state taxes. It is a kind of religious socialism. But, as we have seen happen to many socialistic experiments in the last generation, official state protection breeds laziness, inefficiency, incompetence. In these state church societies, churches have had their survival guaranteed. Therefore, they don't have to be sensitive to the needs of the consumers. They can afford to become lazy and inefficient. The only choice that the consumers have is to stop going to church. They look elsewhere to get their religious needs filled. By way of contrast, in this country churches are relatively well attended because here no one has a religious monopoly. They all need to compete. They all need to be "lean and mean." It is survival of the fittest. Those who are able to meet the needs of the consumer succeed. Those who do not fail.

In this free market religious economy where "church shopping" reigns supreme, the needs of the consumer are most important. The consumer will always ask, "What's in it for me?" In other words, how can you meet my religious needs? What can you do to save my marriage, save my family, save my job, save my sanity, save my sense of well-being, save my soul? If you can't do this for me, I'll just go down the aisle of the religious supermarket and shop for a better product.

"What's in it for me?" That also seems to be the concern behind the questions James and John have for Jesus in today's Gospel. "Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you." In other words, James and John want Jesus to satisfy their needs. They want Jesus to give them whatever they want.

They knew that Jesus was something special. They suspected that he was the Messiah. They were looking forward to finally setting up his kingdom. They were looking forward to Jesus finally solving their problems. And, of course, like any normal human being, they wanted to get their piece of the pie.

"Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory." They wanted special places of privilege in Jesus' kingdom. How about making one of them Secretary of State and the other Secretary of the Treasury?

Jesus' response is not what James and John anticipated. "You do not know what you are asking." Are you sure you want to have such places of privilege and honor in my kingdom? Are you sure you want me to give you what you really need? Do you really want to be a big shot in my kingdom? "Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?"

What a strange answer. What does Jesus mean with this talk of drinking a cup and being baptized? "To drink the cup" is a colloquialism, a manner of speaking, an idiom that was occasionally used in the Old Testament to refer to one accepting one's inevitable destiny. To drink one's cup was to accept one's fate. To drink one's cup was to accept what was most inevitable in anyone's fate: death. In other words, to drink the cup would be to accept the same inevitable fate that Jesus was about to accept: his suffering and death. Jesus would later use this same phrase in the Garden of Gethsemane when he struggled to accept his imminent death and prayed that his Father not ask him "to drink the cup of suffering."

"Baptism" is also used by Jesus in a way that is very different from the way we use it today. In this church when we speak of a baptism, we probably all think of a small baby being brought to the baptismal font and being gently washed (or at least sprinkled) with water. These baptisms seem to be such pleasant and happy events. The little child is washed clean. The dirt of sin is washed away.

But the image of "baptism" in the ancient world was much more dramatic than this. Being baptized is not like washing your hands or taking a bath. Being baptized is not some pleasant and useful way to get clean. On the contrary, being baptized was to be overwhelmed with water, to be submerged, drowned, killed in a flood. In other words, when Jesus spoke of his coming baptism, he was referring to his coming death on the cross. He was soon to be overwhelmed, drowned in the waters of death.

Do you disciples know what you are asking? Places of glory and honor in Jesus' kingdom means drinking of the cup of suffering. Places of honor in Jesus' kingdom means baptism in the waters of death.

"What's in it for me?" James and John thought it would mean celebrity and fame and power. And Jesus tells them it will mean suffering and death. Did they get it? Did they understand what Jesus was talking about? They thought they did. "We are able." They are sure that they will be able to drink the cup and be baptized with Jesus' baptism. They almost seem eager to do it. But as we see by their subsequent behavior, they still didn't have any idea of what Jesus was talking about.

When later they are in the Garden of Gethsemane and Jesus knows he is facing imminent trouble and prays that this "cup" be removed from him, where are these disciples? Where are these friends and supporters of Jesus who are so willing to take places of honor in his kingdom? Asleep. And when Jesus is finally arrested a few moments later, where are these disciples who were so willing to drink the cup and be baptized with Jesus' baptism? They flee into the night. And where are these disciples when Jesus is finally drinking the cup of his destiny on the cross and being overwhelmed in the baptism of his crucifixion? They are nowhere to be found. "Yes, Lord, we are able! Sure, we are ready to take our places of glory! Yeah, we are ready to drink the cup! Of course, give us your baptism!" Oh, if they only knew for what they were asking. The other ten disciples can't help but overhear this conversation. They too wonder, "What's in it for me?" They too want their piece of the action. They too want their places of glory. They too want the best seats in the house. And they are angry with James and John for trying to cut in line in front of them.

Jesus has obviously had it with such open displays of shameless ambition. These eager disciples obviously don't get it.

"So you guys want places of glory? So you people want places of privilege in my kingdom? So, you want to know, 'What's in it for me?' Well, let me tell you."

Jesus then describes what it means to have places of honor and privilege in his kingdom. And what he tells them must have totally surprised and shocked them.

"So, you want to sit at my right and left hand? So you want to be big shots? Well, in my kingdom it's not like the rest of the world. Being a big shot in my kingdom doesn't mean being king of the mountain. It doesn't mean being CEO or Chairman of the Board. It doesn't mean getting to tell others what to do. It doesn't mean having an unlimited expense account to live high on the hog. It doesn't mean having everyone wait on your needs or having everyone kiss your feet. No, it is not so among you; but whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. In my kingdom you get to serve, to sacrifice, to give yourself away for others. In my kingdom you get to drink the cup. You get to be baptized with my baptism. You get to die!"

"What's in it for me?" If this is what is in it for James and John and the other ten disciples and for you and me, then why would anyone ever want to be a disciple of Jesus? Who in their right mind would ever want to be a part of this gang? Who would ever want to become a member of this congregation? Who would ever want to be a Christian? No one in their right mind would ever want to have any part of this kind of life. We want to have a church, a God, a messiah that serve our needs and help us get to the front of the line.

What's in this for me? It doesn't look like much. Who wants to serve and sacrifice and give themselves away? Who wants to die? Not many people that I know. The "What's in it for me?" question that drives the modern religious marketplace is very revealing. It reveals that at the heart of every religious quest for "salvation" is the "self" that wants to survive. We want to stay in control. Like the disciples, we are sure that we can do it.

"Pastor, just tell me what I have to do. Just tell me what I have to believe. I know I can do it. I know I am able."

Are we able to drink the cup? Are we able to be baptized with Jesus' baptism? Are we able let go of ourselves and our preoccupation with trying to stay in control? Ever since Genesis 3 every human being that has ever walked the earth has resisted drinking the cup or being baptized with the baptism. We can't trust God. We can't let go. We have to run our lives the way we want. We can't help but ask, "What's in it for me?"

Every human being that has ever walked the face of the earth has resisted making such self-sacrifice. Except for one. Except for the one who said, "I came not to be served but to serve and give my life as a ransom for many." Watch him. He lives his life as a servant. He gives his life away in the service of others. "What's in it for me?" seems to be the furthest thing from his mind. Instead he lives his life filled with a strange sense of confidence. He knows who he is. He knows God is his Father. He trusts his future. There is no reason to hold on to his life, as if somehow he must save himself. Instead he gives himself away, even all the way to death on a cross.

And he was no fool who believed in an empty dream. He dared to trust the love of his Father. And he dared to invite others to trust the same. And when he was raised from the dead three days later, the creator of heaven and earth, the one whom Jesus dared to call his Father, announced to the world that Jesus was not mistaken. His faith was not in vain. Jesus was right.

At the end of today's Gospel Jesus calls himself a "ransom." You pay a ransom in order to set someone else free. You pay the price to get someone else out of bondage. Jesus insists that his coming death will be his ransom, his sacrifice for us. He changes places with us. As Martin Luther once described it, Jesus was the "sweet swap" for us. In his death and resurrection he exchanged our fate for his fate. He exchanged our sin for his righteousness. He exchanged his life for our death. He became a curse for us so that we might be free -- free from that sinful obsession always to serve ourselves, from that sinful obsession always to ask, "What's in it for me?"

James and John and the other ten and even you and I are unable on our own to let go of our drive for survival. We can't stop asking, "What's in it for me?" But Jesus dies for us. And because he dies for us, we can have that place of honor and privilege we so desperately want.

When we come to his table to eat and drink, he is granting us that place of honor at his right and at his left hand. When water was poured over us in the name of Jesus, we were granted that place of glory at the table of God's great banquet. When Jesus became the "ransom," when he suffered, died, and was raised again, he did it "for us." He did it so that we might sit at his right and his left hand.

And because of what he did, we are rich. We have places of honor at his table. We are the beloved sons and daughters of God. And therefore, we can begin to give ourselves away. Therefore, we can begin to serve and sacrifice. Therefore, we can afford to let go, to die, to drink the cup and be baptized with the baptism. In the drama of our liturgy we get to act out this new kind of life that is already ours in Christ. We get to drink the cup and be baptized with the baptism and let go of ourselves and be a servant and die.

We begin the service by confessing our sins. If there is anything that is like dying a little, it is admitting that we are wrong. Yet, we get to confess our sins. We get to die a little, because we already have been forgiven. We already have the seats of privilege in the kingdom.

We give away our money in an offering. Can you imagine it -- giving away the most important source of power and prestige in our society and expecting to get nothing in return, giving away our money for the sake of others, for the sake of the mission of the church?

At the end of the service we are reminded, "Go in peace. Serve the Lord." Serve the Lord! Give ourselves away for the sake of God, not for what we can get out of it, but for the sake of God! "What's in it for me?" is no longer an issue. Can you imagine forgiving someone who has wronged you? They have kicked you in the shins. They have hurt you. You have every right in the world to demand some justice. You deserve some sort of payback. But to forgive is to forego your legitimate right for justice. To forgive is to give up your right to get even. To forgive is to die a little. To forgive is not to demand your "pound of flesh." To forgive is to drink the cup. To forgive is to be baptized with Jesus' baptism.

It is so difficult for congregations in this world not to be concerned about their own survival. It is so difficult to be a servant, to give the life of the congregation away for the sake of the world, when there are bills to pay and salaries to make. One of our local pastors once shared with me a story of an experience he had when he was on internship. His internship supervisor was an old crusty, no-nonsense kind of pastor. Together they served in the inner city. Each month at the church council meeting, the members of the council would complain about the children in the neighborhood who would litter the parking lot, damage the flowers, and break the church windows. This complaining went on month after month. Finally in frustration the old pastor said to his council, "Well, are we going to pass a motion to kill the damn kids?" In his frustration and with this expletive the pastor wanted to remind his council why they were there in that neighborhood in the first place. They were there to serve, to give their lives away as a ransom for many -- even for those children in the neighborhood.

"What's in it for me?" What's in it for you and me as we sit at our places of honor in the kingdom? The privilege, the honor, the opportunity to give ourselves away, to serve, to die for the sake of the world. That is the only way to live in Jesus' kingdom.