7. Sermon

When you're asked to take on some work, how do you react? Are you a person who goes for it immediately - "Yes! Yes! I'll do it!" - or one who has to go away and consider deeply first. Think for a moment which is your preferred way.

Of course, very often it depends on what the task may be, and in church life we have learned the hard way to be cautious. I'm sure it's happened to you. You are asked to take on a job, or be on a committee; it isn't much, they say; we only meet a couple of times a year . . . which, of course, changes as soon as you take on the task, to meeting every other month because what they failed to tell you was that this innocent little group was just about to start some really big work and suddenly you're in the midst of it all, which can be very exciting, or leave you feeling trapped and exhausted.

But what if it's a friend who has involved you in all that's been happening in his or her life, and what they're doing has the potential to be very exciting indeed. What then? Do you hesitate to go further or just carry on, whatever the consequences?

James and John are two men who have often been roundly criticised. The normal, natural response as we read about James and John asking for the best seats in the Kingdom is to cry, "What a nerve!" We are not a bit surprised that the other disciples are miffed, to put it mildly and because we know what it's like to be queue-jumped, we side with them in their condemnation of the brothers. Who do they think they are? Who indeed.

But let's pause and look again. Before this passage, Jesus had been talking about all that would befall him in Jerusalem, taking the twelve aside specifically to spell it out to them, and I mean really spell it out. What kind of idiot then shuffles forward and says, "Yes, we're in! And can we have the good seats afterwards, when the nasty bit's over?"

Idiots like James and John, evidently. Or - are these less queue-jumping hotheads than thoughtful and deeply committed followers of Jesus? Had they perhaps been listening very carefully indeed, and made a conscious decision that, come what may, they would stick beside Jesus, and so they went to tell him we'll be there at your right and left in all you're going to go through - and maybe later, too?

That could be right, because the relationship between Jesus and his disciples was close - and remember, James and John, along with Andrew and Peter, had been with him from the very beginning, so there would be a depth of feeling there. Jesus' response also suggests that we might be onto something here, as he checks out that very fact: "Can you drink the cup that I drink or be baptised with the baptism with which I am baptised?" he asks, or in other words, can you really go through all this with me? And I don't think - or there is no suggestion - that he's saying this in a sarcastic way. They reply, "We are able." It reminds me a bit of the statements made at ordination and induction. We are in it for the long haul.

But, as we know, when the going got tough, the disciples got going in the opposite direction, although John did seem to stay around more than the others. At this point, though, they thought they were ready for anything, and for the glory afterwards.

Now, I can sympathise with James and John. I sometimes hear myself agreeing to things even at the same moment as my brain (which plans ahead better than my mouth does) is having hysterics. Or even being all keen on something until I've had time to think, at which point I get scared. In all parts of our lives, we normally set out genuinely wanting to see through whatever task faces us; it's only later we see the sheer uphill grind we've given ourselves - and then sometimes we want to cut and run, and sometimes we only stay around because there's nowhere to run to. It doesn't make us bad people, just normal people.

And as normal people, we would like to think that if we do stay for the hard stuff then there will be a reward; we may not want seats at the top table, but we'd rather not have seats down by the toilets, thank you. And some words like, "Well done," would be appreciated.

But Jesus spelt out for the disciples that status; reward, in earthly terms was not going to happen for them: it's not that they hadn't had plenty of warning: as devout Jews, they would have known the Servant Songs of Isaiah, the servant who suffers mightily, but somehow they seem to have failed to connect those passages to the present time, and to Jesus.

But it must have been hard, to a people who lived in a status-conscious society; the concept that you were opting in to becoming the kind of person no-one valued, and it is perhaps every bit as hard for us who value highly the 'celebrity' and believe that the individual has the right to share in the good things. But maybe we have to be that silly, in the eyes of the world. So we haven't got all the stuff others have - does it really matter? I taught in tough areas of Gateshead, and it was the children who had next to nothing who would share what they had. Those with plenty often - not always; there were some really generous hearted folk - but often, wouldn't share without a bit of a prod.

What it means to be servants of all is something each one needs to work out for themselves. Like James and John, we can't really know what we've signed up to. It might well be tougher than we thought, and fraught with unexpected surprises, as well as peppered with humour and laughter - pray always to see the funny side; it's usually there, somewhere!

But unlike James and John, we know that the crucifixion led through to resurrection; know the sheer power of God's love, and that love never leaves us, no matter how bewildered and stressed out and far from that love you may feel. And unlike James and John at this stage in their lives, we have received the gift of the Holy Spirit, who helps us make the difficult decisions, and who helps us keep going when we feel we've somehow got to the bottom of the heap and no-one cares about us, and about our little contribution.

Jesus has been this way before us, and understands. God loves us (even though he probably sometimes wants to scream at us) no matter what others may think of us. An interesting point made by someone who had done a lot of Spiritual Direction was that he'd had several people who had had really awful childhoods; really unloved, but they nevertheless said that they always believed that God loved them.

We can hold confidently to the fact of that love and of that guiding power in the very nature of God, and go on. And the best part of course - there's no need to worry about seats!