A misguided zeal

Then James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came to him. “Teacher,” they said, “we want you to do for us whatever we ask.” “What do you want me to do for you?” he asked. They replied, “Let one of us sit at your right and the other at your left in your glory.” “You don’t know what you are asking,” Jesus said…

Mark 10:35-38

God exalted Jesus to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

Philippians 2:9-11

How interesting that the Gospels – two of them, anyway – should include this little episode, for it reflects rather badly on two of the leading apostles, the brothers James and John, sons of Zebedee.

They come to Jesus and ask, bold as brass, that they might be given the seats of honour when he enters his “glory”. I find myself thinking, “How could they possibly know him so well, love him so much, and trust him so completely – and yet obviously understand him so little!” All credit to them, of course, that they had that implicit faith that he was headed for glory, but such a gross, self-centred request surely is rather hard to understand.

I can think of three ways in which we might make excuses for them.

First, we might ask (indeed should ask) “But am I actually any better?” Here we are, two thousand years on, yet there is a sense in which we know Jesus even better than they did – we, after all, have the whole New Testament to teach us, with all four Gospels, the Acts of the Apostles, plus a rich variety of letters and Revelation. Yet can we not also be guilty of spectacularly missing the point?

Second, we might ask “Is it in fact correct to think that thy knew him so well”? The Gospels make it clear that Jesus’ earthly ministry lasted only some three years, and even assuming that this episode took place towards the end of that period, and even granted that their relationship with him was very intense, the fact is that three years isn’t that long and, given that they had had just a standing start in those early days by the Sea of Galilee, well, they really did have a great deal to learn.

And third, we might turn to Matthew 20:20-28, where the same story is told – but with one very striking difference: it wasn’t James and John at all who made the request, but their mother on their behalf!

We sometimes make jokes about pushy mothers who insist on demanding what they see as only the best for their offspring; and, according to Matthew’s account, Mrs Zebedee seems to have been of that sort. To be fair to them, did James and John stand by in some embarrassment as she went into battle on their behalf?

Well, whatever. But of course what matters is, what lessons should we learn from this incident?

The main one is obvious: to seek glory for ourselves is wrong.

We all like to be appreciated by others, to be “successful” or important, whatever that word may mean in the context of our particular lives. And yes, given that God has given each of us different gifts and talents, it’s not wrong to want to fulfil our potential as far as possible. But often, if we honestly search our hearts, we know that there is a nasty little sliver of sheer vanity, of self-centred status-seeking, nestling there. Who has never been guilty of jealousy over somebody who has gained more “success” than we have?

It can only do us good to reflect on the simple but profound words of John the Baptist as he looked at Jesus, the “lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world”: “He must become greater; I must become less” (John 3:30). I wonder if the sons of Zebedee were there when those great words were first spoken? Had they just forgotten them by the time of our story?

How easily we forget great truths – or, perhaps, deliberately and sinfully allow them to slip from our minds in any given situation. We may piously say that all the glory must go to God; but do we really mean it?

A second lesson is that to seek glory for ourselves is not only wrong but a waste of time and energy anyway. Glory fades. Yesterday’s super-star becomes today’s has-been. Idols, of whatever kind, are bound to fall (read Percy Bysshe Shelley’s short but powerful poem “Ozymandias”!).

We live in a “celebrity culture” (horrible expression!), with a widespread mentality that needs to idolise the rich, famous and successful. Give credit where it’s due, yes, by all means. But to put people up on pedestals is sheer folly.

A third, more positive, lesson: to accept cheerfully the position God has in mind for us is the only sure way to be at peace.

Jesus tells James and John that God alone has the authority to put people in their rightful place – “to sit at my right hand or left is not for me to grant…”, he frankly states (verse 40). And many of us will be able to testify that at times in our lives when we have stepped outside God’s will – though temptation, through weakness, through foolishness, through outright disobedience – we have forfeited peace. We have learned the hard way that, ultimately, the only safe place to be is in – well, God’s place for us. So why hanker after anything else?

I mentioned earlier the example of dear, faithful John the Baptist. But of course we can go even better than that. We read in Philippians 2:1-11 that Jesus himself “made himself nothing” (literally “emptied himself”). He “took the very nature of a servant” – yes, he even washed the disciples’ feet. Total, self-effacing humility. And what is to become of him? “At the name of Jesus every knee shall bow…” By rejecting glory he comes to glory!

Christian, meditate on that, and cling to that alone!

Father, it is not for us to find fault with other Christians, whether ancient apostles or contemporary believers; we ourselves are only too prone to foolish false ideas and ambitions. Please teach us to be content to be nothing, that Jesus may have all the glory, and so to find peace in simply doing your will. Amen.