Learning to drink the cup of Christ

Sermon for the Festival of St. James the Elder

Romans 8:28-39  +  Matthew 20:20-23

All twelve of the apostles were given a privileged place among our race; they were all called directly by Jesus, and they all got to sit at the feet of God and learn from Him directly for three years. But St. James was one of the privileged few, together with Peter and John, who also got to accompany Jesus on special occasions, like the raising of Jairus’ daughter, the transfiguration, and as Jesus’ close circle of friends in the Garden of Gethsemane. James and his brother John were likely cousins of Jesus, according to the flesh, which was in itself a great honor. James and John were fishing partners in their “former life,” the sons of Zebedee, and together they received the nickname from Jesus, Boanerges, which means the “sons of thunder.” James is never mentioned separately from his brother John; even when he was finally put to death by Herod, Luke writes that Herod killed “James the brother of John.” He was the first apostle to be martyred and the only one whose death is actually recorded in Scripture, so that we know with absolute certainty how it happened. That was how his earthly story ended, with the ultimate witness of faith, with the glory of martyrdom, with the willingness to die for Jesus.

Our encounter with St. James in today’s Gospel is less glorious. He and his brother John were overcome with selfish ambition, even as they were just about to enter Jerusalem for Holy Week, after Jesus had told them all that He was about to be mocked, scourged, and crucified. James and John, with their mother’s help, approach Jesus with this request: Let these two sons of mine sit in your kingdom, one at your right hand, and the other at the left.

Now, first of all, let’s understand what they were asking for. Throughout Scripture, sitting at the right hand of a king in his kingdom means having a position of honor and of power second only to the king himself, and sitting at his left was almost just as good. We already know all this, of course, because we confess in the creeds that Jesus sits at the right hand of God, that He was given that ultimate position of honor and authority after conquering sin and death. So, while James and John certainly recognized that Jesus deserved the highest honor, they thought they deserved the second and third highest, maybe because of their family ties to Jesus, or because they were singled out for those special events, or simply because they were the first to ask. And they figured this was the time to ask, because they were just about to enter Jerusalem for the Passover, and, in spite of what Jesus said about His going there to suffer and die, they apparently thought He was really going there to establish His visible, glorious kingdom on earth, once and for all.

You do not know what you are asking, Jesus told them. They had envisioned, as people still do today, a glorious earthly kingdom, where Christ reigns visibly and where His people flourish, where His disciples prosper all the time, where liars and cheaters and impenitent scoundrels are defeated, where truth prevails over falsehood, where the unjust suffering of Christians is a thing of the past. But You don’t know what you’re asking. This “kingdom” they had envisioned isn’t the kingdom Christ came to bring to earth. Oh, it will come, but only after this long age of the New Testament is done. For James and John, there was a lot of suffering and earthly defeat to be faced first.

Are you able to drink the cup that I am about to drink, and to be baptized with the baptism that I will undergo? This is the first time Jesus mentions drinking this cup, the same cup about which He eventually prayed in the Garden, “Father, if it is possible, let this cup be taken from Me.” But it wasn’t possible, and so, after praying, He asked, “Shall I not drink the cup which My Father has given Me?” It’s the cup of suffering that God would pour for His beloved Son to drink, willingly, obediently, and fatally. As for this “baptism,” there are three kinds of Baptism that Jesus talks about in the New Testament. There is the Sacrament of Holy Baptism, the washing of water with the Word. There is the baptism of the Holy Spirit and fire, which took place on the Day of Pentecost when the Spirit was poured out on the Church; that baptism was tied to the Sacrament of Baptism from that day on. And then there’s this baptism, this pouring out of suffering, this being washed in blood and in death that Jesus would have to undergo.

Are you able to drink that cup and be baptized with that baptism? Jesus asked the brothers. Because that’s how Christ would earn the right, as our human Redeemer, to sit on His throne, by drinking the cup and being baptized with that suffering and death. We are, they said. Of course, they didn’t even know what the cup or the baptism was; they didn’t know what they were claiming to be able to do. But they were sure they could do it, as their pride mingled with their ignorance.

You will indeed drink my cup, and be baptized with the baptism that I undergo. “Even though you don’t know what it means now, you will. You will be My witnesses, and that means you will be treated as I am treated. You’ll drink the cup of the world’s hatred and injustice and mistreatment, just as I will. You already share in My Baptism in the sacramental sense, so you will also share in the baptism of My suffering.”

But to sit at my right hand and at my left is not mine to give; it will be given to those for whom it is prepared by my Father. Even the Son of God, who is equal with the Father according to His divinity, defers to His Father as the One who chooses whom to exalt and whom to humble. If Jesus doesn’t take that authority for Himself, then James and John (and you and I) have absolutely no business seeking glory or privilege for themselves or for ourselves. It’s My Father’s business, Jesus tells them, whom to glorify, not yours. Your only business is to be faithful.

And they did prove faithful. James and John humbled themselves before Jesus’ gentle rebuke. They repented of their sinful, selfish ambition, trying to exalt themselves above their fellow Christians and even above their brothers in the apostolic office. They humbled themselves and resigned themselves to drink whatever cup the Father should pour for them. Yes, James became the first to drink it and to be baptized with martyrdom as his blood was shed by King Herod. And the two brothers, James and John, who were never separated in Scripture ended up being separated more than any other apostles, with James being the first of them to die and John being the last, so that their deaths were like bookends of the apostolic era, almost as if one were sitting at Jesus’ right hand and the other at His left.

What do we learn from the example of James? We see in St. James an example of a faithful and devoted follower of Jesus who was not immune to selfish ambition and pride, but who also humbled himself when rebuked, who trusted in Christ for forgiveness, who confessed Christ in the world, and who willingly drank the cup that God the Father poured for him.

Watch out for that pride and ambition in yourselves, thinking you deserve a place of honor in God’s kingdom — or a place at all! — because of how faithfully you’ve followed, trying to exalt yourself above your fellow Christian. You know the example that Jesus set for us all, of humble service that put the needs of everyone above His own, who never sought glory for Himself, but was glorified by His Father precisely because He didn’t seek His own glory, who did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life as a ransom for many. Your place in heaven depends on Jesus and faith in Jesus, not on how well you’ve served here on earth.

What about that cup that James so willingly drank? You and I will have one, too, whether it’s martyrdom or some other cross to bear. How does all this fit with what St. Paul wrote in today’s Epistle? We know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to his purpose. How can a cup of suffering and a baptism of death work together for good?

Well, we tend to make some terrible assumptions. That every painful thing is a curse, that suffering is to be avoided at all costs, that death is always a tragedy, or a failure, or a loss. We think that the real blessing from the Lord is to avoid suffering, to be raised up to a position of joy and happiness and special privileges without going through the turmoil and the pain. That’s what James and John thought, too, in that infamous moment of weakness.

But they were wrong, and they eventually learned the truth as they watched Jesus willingly suffer and die, that God uses the suffering, self-sacrifice, and service of His children to accomplish His good purposes for His children, that God is always ruling the events and the outcomes in this world so that everything does turn out for the good of each one of His children, and most importantly, that not even death will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. The death of a Christian is not a tragedy, but a victory, just as Christ’s death turned out to be.

So learn to drink that cup of Christ, whenever that moment comes, to suffer for His name, to serve humbly, to trust boldly. And give thanks today for St. James, whose service in the apostolic office was the shortest of all the apostles, but whose willingness to drink the cup of Christ gave him a privileged place among our race, and in the Church, and has become a pattern for all Christians who share the same hope in the same Lord Jesus. Amen.