Moving On To Smaller and Greater Things

Mark 10: 35-45
James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came forward to him and said to him, ‘Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.’ And he said to them, ‘What is it you want me to do for you?’ And they said to him, ‘Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.’ But Jesus said to them, ‘You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?’ They replied, ‘We are able.’ Then Jesus said to them, ‘The cup that I drink you will drink; and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized; but to sit at my right hand or at my left is not mine to grant, but it is for those for whom it has been prepared.’
When the ten heard this, they began to be angry with James and John. So Jesus called them and said to them, ‘You know that among the Gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. But 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. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.’

“Jesus so diligently searched for the lowest place that it would be very difficult for anyone to tear it from Him…” (Carlo Caretto, “Letters From the Desert”)

 As Jesus and his disciples traveled on their journeys, they ran into a lot of derision. We know that Jesus’ authority was often challenged simply because he was just a carpenter’s son from the down and out village of Nazareth (can anything good come out of Nazareth?) so it stands to reason that the disciples also received their share of disrespect. They must have experienced with Jesus the humiliation of being subtly categorized as people who were of no great value to society and felt the sting of suspicion and accusations launched at them simply because of bigoted perceptions and because of their lack of status.  Very few of us make it through life without experiencing at some point the pain of attitudes that imply that we are not as valuable, influential, highly paid, educated or powerful as another or ones that insinuate that because of the group, race, faith or culture we belong to, we probably share the worst traits of those who have proven themselves to be failures within that group. The frustration and pain of being labeled and dismissed or even vilified is something that can easily undermine one’s personal sense of value. It hurts because we all have a deep human longing to know we are needed by others and that others recognize our dignity and value.

James and John had exactly this same human need. They probably felt the hurt of being disparagingly referred to as “those fishermen” and dismissed as sinful, ignorant, on par with prostitutes and tax collectors and useless for anything except catching fish. In this week’s Gospel, they were seeking positions of influence and power because, being human and still very fuzzy about who Jesus really was, they may have been tempted to ease the humiliation of being categorized and dismissed by finding a place of power, dignity and status where they would be respected and honored.

What Jesus understood, and they didn’t, was that even if they did achieve higher and more respected positions, they would soon spend most of their time maintaining and defending those positions. Look at how the other disciples reacted to James and John’s request to sit Jesus’ side in his glory – which they probably assumed would be when he defeated the Romans and was crowned King of the Jews. The rest of the disciples were angry and resentful. If Jesus hadn’t cut them all off at the pass, the others would have asked why James and John should have such elevated positions and then demanded equality or at least equal opportunity to apply for the same positions. Then James and John would then have felt a necessity to prove that they were best suited for the positions which could have meant showing how the others were not suited, perhaps subtly pointing out inadequacies and faults…you can see where this is going.

I guarantee there would have been no jostling for position and no angry resentment if James and John had gone up to Jesus and said, “Jesus, we would like to be the ones who will always be responsible for digging the latrines when we’re on the road.” There was no glory, power or honor for latrine diggers but neither would anyone have resented them or tried to find ways to malign them or oust them from their positions. No one would have been giving them the silent treatment as pay back for being uppity. They would have been completely free to serve.

However, the action of digging latrines – or washing dishes, or changing diapers, or picking up garbage, or being at the beck and call of others or any other non-glorious way of serving the family or one’s faith community – doesn’t necessarily make anyone a saint. What creates holiness within these perceived lowly positions of service is love and nothing else.

As a stay at home mother, I used to struggle daily to find and cling to my innate worth. In a world where valuable skills are rewarded with a good paycheck and benefits, a stay at home mother can often feel of very low worth indeed. There have been many times over the years when the world has made me feel inconsequential, not only as a stay at home mother but also as a woman. I often clung to the words of Caretto – that Jesus chose the lowest place. I absolutely had to find my worth and value in some way other than the way the world dictates value. It was very difficult sometimes but I now know that experiencing that place of no status was what pushed me to find my dignity and worth where it really is.

My value does not depend on what I do, how good I am, how much power I have, who respects me, how much I am paid, what status I achieve or what I accomplish. My dignity is in the eyes of the Lord. I had to find it there and allow it to feed my innermost being. Status and respect are not bad in themselves but Jesus knows that having them can blind us to the real source of our true selves.  It is the lowest places, the places of service, the places of not being appreciated for who you really are that can drive you straight to the heart of God. Once you’re there and once you have seen yourself reflected in his eyes, there is nothing that can devalue you and no one who can unseat you from your place. But it is a choice to go there. Desiring the place of being hidden, the place of service and love, is a choice and it is a choice to seek our value solely in God instead of in the admiration and respect of others, even others within our own faith community or family.   

In his homily last week, our parish priest said that after receiving the Eucharist he always prays the prayer of St. Ignatius of Loyola with all his heart. This powerful prayer has also had great significance for me, especially in times of struggling to know my value and worth.  The version I know best is the St. Louise Jesuits’ song:

Take, Lord, receive all my liberty,
my memory, understanding, my entire will. 

Antiphon: Give me only your love and your grace: that's enough for me.
Your love and your grace are enough for me. 

Take, Lord, receive all I have and possess.
You have given all to me; now I return it. 

Take, Lord, receive, all is yours now;
dispose of it wholly according to your will. 

I have often prayed, over and over, “Your love and your grace are enough for me,” yearning to know his love and grace in a way that nothing could ever make me forget it – because it is impossible to embrace a lifestyle of doing small things with great love…

…unless you completely understand that you are a small one who is greatly loved.