Drink the Cup
Drink the Cup
Matthew 20:17-28
I suppose it is a characteristic of every generation, but there seems to be much more of it today. What is that characteristic? Well, let me illustrate. Over the past several years there has been a growing rejection of American heros. Students at a university in Virginia wanted the statue of Thomas Jefferson removed. He was the founder of the university, the author of the Declaration of Independence, and a key figure in the creation of our Constitution. He was also the third president of the United States. Surely, he is worthy of honor. One would think. But no, his statue must be removed because Jefferson owned slaves. How about George Washington? Hero of the Revolutionary War and our first president. Rejected. He, too, owned slaves. How about Robert E. Lee. Lincoln tried to recruit him to lead the Union armies in the Civil War. Lee declined and returned to his own state, where he eventually became the leading general and strategist of the Confederate forces, fighting against the Union. He was a brilliant leader, even though he was outmanned and outgunned by the North and Gen. Grant. He was honored with a statue. But it had to be pulled down and destroyed. Why? Because he defended slavery.
And then there are those who look at certain events in history, and blithely comment, “Well, if I were there, I would have ...” For most of my life, the main objection I hear to the Bible and Christianity is, “It’s out-of-date. Who needs a three-thousand year old book? We have modern science.” We know better now. They read about a demon-possessed man healed by Jesus, and remark, “We know now that demons don’t exist. They just didn’t know anything about mental illness.” We know better today.
Before C. S. Lewis became a Christian, he had many conversations with his friend Owen Barfield. As Barfield spoke to him about the Bible, after-life, baptism, prayer, Lewis exploded, “Why–damn it– it’s medieval! ... for I still had all the chronological snobbery of my period and used the names of earlier periods as terms of abuse.”1 Lewis goes on to define “chronological snobbery.” It is, he wrote, “the uncritical acceptance of the intellectual climate common to our own age and the assumption that whatever has gone out of date is on that account discredited.”2 We reject the past simply because it is past. We reject the old simply because it is old. We reject what people thought a hundred years ago, or 250 years ago, or 2000 years ago, because “we know better now.” Or, because we think differently now. But who’s to say we’re therefor correct? What makes us think that we are right and they were wrong? Have past philosophies been refuted and found false? Or do we simply reject them as false because we think differently now.
Before you say, “Well, I would.” or “I would do it differently.” or, “If I had been there ...” keep in mind the spirit of the age. Just as you are a product of your own culture and the period in which you live, so were they. In all likelihood, had you lived then, you would have thought and done exactly as they did. Chronological snobbery is superimposing modern thought over ancient people and criticizing them because “they should have known” (they didn’t), or “if I’d been there ...” (You weren’t). We criticize the Jewish leaders because they didn’t see what we see. We criticize the disciples because they didn’t understand what we understand. We criticize the past without understanding what they knew, and saw, and felt about their world.
Let’s turn to our text:
Now Jesus was going up to Jerusalem. Up to this point, Jesus’ ministry has been largely confined to Capernaum and the Galilee region, with an occasional visit to Jerusalem and Bethany. He had gone to Jerusalem for the festivals, as all good Jews did, but had confined most of his ministry in the north, away from the political climate of the capital city. But now there seems to be an urgency. He tells the disciples that they would be traveling now to Jerusalem, and the chief priests and teachers will do their worst. “The Son of Man will be delivered over to the chief priests and teachers of the law. They will condemn him to death ...” This is no incidental trip, no festival observance; Jesus is going to Jerusalem to die.
This is his third prediction, or warning. In chapter 16, v. 21, he made the first prediction. There, Peter argued with him and denied that such a thing could happen to the Messiah. In chapter 17, v. 22, he made his second prediction, and Matthew records, the disciples were filled with grief. This is the third prediction, and Jesus doesn’t appear to give them time to react. But there is a reaction – not from the disciples, but from the mother of James and John.
Here’s where our chronological snobbery comes into play. We don’t understand why she seems to not understand what Jesus said. Jesus predicted his death and she comes up with this. “Grant that one of these two sons of mine may sit at your right and the other at your left in your kingdom.” Perhaps she only heard the part about going to Jerusalem. She certainly did not understand that Jesus was going to die. Or perhaps she heard that part, but then heard the ending, where Jesus said, “On the third day he will be raised to life”, and thought then he’d be king. I have difficulty with that, though, for this reason: Jews believed in a final resurrection, at the end of the age, but not in individual resurrection. If you died, you waited in the grave for the “day of the Lord.”
That was when resurrection happened, not three days after one died.
She held to the same belief as most of her day – the Messiah was coming to drive out the oppressors, reestablish the Davidic kingdom, and usher Israel into a new Golden Age of peace and prosperity. And so far, everything Jesus had said and done had led his disciples and those close to him to the belief that this was precisely what Jesus was doing. He was their messianic hope. His miracles were fulfillment of the prophecies regarding the sort of signs one should look for in the Messiah. They were not hoping for any sort of spiritual kingdom. They didn’t equate the kingdom of God with a church. It was not necessarily a religious sort of kingdom – aiming for heaven and a pacific afterlife. They were firmly political, and saw Jesus through political lenses. Would we have seen Jesus differently? Would we have understood his kingdom as “spiritual”? No, we would have understood as they did. Our opinions would have been formed by their culture, not by the culture we enjoy today.
There was a social media post recently about the IRS rescinding the Johnson Amendment that restricted pastors from endorsing political candidates from the pulpit. Among the responses were these: Laurie wrote, “Religion and politics should never be together!” Dawn added, “The church should not get involved in the matters of anything political.” Cindy said, “Religion has no business in politics.” One more: Will is sure he knows what the pastor’s job is – “Their job is to preach the gospel, not sway their parishioners in any political way.” In other words, keep religion out of politics, and keep politics out of religion. They are two separate things.
But, as I’ve told you before Christianity is inextricable from politics. When we affirm “Jesus is Lord,” we are noting that our primary allegiance is to him, not to the American flag, not to the president, not to our political party. When we affirm that “Jesus is Lord,” we are informing our political position, our morals, our voting on the basis of the lordship of Christ. The Messiah is a political rival to the powers of the earth. If Jesus is king, we can have no other above him. To say that Jesus was not political is to completely misunderstand who Jesus was, what the prophecies about him were, and even why the powers of his day were so opposed to him.
Jesus’ kingdom is both not of this world and in this world, both part of and apart from. It most certainly affects this world. So Jesus hears the mothers request, looks at the sons, and asks them if they think they can endure what he must endure: “Can you drink the cup I am going to drink?” We know in hindsight that the cup Jesus would drink involved scourging, mocking, a crown or thorns, and a splintered cross. I don’t think they understood. In ignorance, they blithely answer, “Yes, we can.”
I think Jesus face softened and there was a catch in his voice as he told them the bad news, “You will indeed drink from my cup.” We don’t have time this morning, but the truth is, they did. Both were martyred because of their association with Jesus. But drinking from the cup of suffering and sitting at the right hand of glory are two different things.
One of the crises of the church today is our aversion to hardship. There is, as they used to say, ease in Zion. We are resting on the victories of the past and have developed a comfortable future. My main complaint with rapture theology, whether correct or not, is that it is a theology of escapism. We expect God to remove us from this world so that we do not go through tribulation.
But the church of Christ has never been exempt from persecution or tribulation. Jesus promised, “In this world you will have trouble” (Jn 16:33), and blessed those who were persecuted for the sake of righteousness (Mt 5:10-12). In his vision, John saw a great multitude that no one could count made up of people from all nations, tribes, and tongue. They were dressed in white robes, and John asked who they were. They were singing praises and waving palm branches, and the angel told John, “These are they who have come out of great tribulation; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb” (Rev 7:14). And they were give a place of honor in heaven. We are afraid to be embarrassed for admitting we are Christian. We are averse to witnessing for fear that someone might ask us a question we can’t answer. We want to be comfortable in church with soft carpet and padded pews. We want our preachers to say comfortable words to us and set our minds at ease. Perhaps Jesus should ask us, “Can you drink the cup I am going to drink?” And we would answer comfortably, because we’ve been taught a comfortable Jesus, “Yes, we can.”
But Jesus drank the cup of suffering. His cup was the cross. Are we willing to suffer for Jesus? To be embarrassed for Jesus? To be mocked for Jesus? Are we willing to drink the cup of suffering for the sake of Jesus? Perhaps you will answer, yes, but far too many Christians, if they were honest, would answer in the negative. Their Christianity is a comfortable, and comforting faith, that makes no demands that lead to suffering. And Jesus said to them, “You will indeed drink from my cup.”
The others were indignant to think that James and John were seeking places of honor. But Jesus called them together. The great places in the kingdom of God are not given as they are in the kingdoms of man. We are not lords and rulers. As I told you recently, the kingdom of God is upside-down and inside-out. Even though we often strive for recognition for our great contributions and our great leadership in the church, that’s now how Christ’s kingdom works. Very often, the church bears little resemblance to the kingdom. We haven’t begun to think as kingdom citizens yet.
“Instead, whoever wants to be great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be your slave.” Let me tie this to what Bill preached a couple week ago. He spoke out of 1 Peter 2:18-25 about submission to governing authorities. But Peter used Jesus as the model. Jesus suffered for doing good, but did not gripe and complain about how the authorities were treating him. Instead, he remained sinless in his reactions. So Peter wrote that Jesus left us an example, and we ought to follow in his footsteps (1 Pet 2:18-25). Jesus tells them, and us, that he is our example.
“The Son of Man did not come to be served;” he did not come to sit on a golden throne surrounded by sycophants and errand-boys. Rather, he came “to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” He came to lay down his life, not to exalt himself but to humble himself. Therefore, God exalted him, Paul wrote to Philippi, and gave him the highest place (Phil 2:5-11). Our attitude should be like his. We are not here to rule the world, not here to judge the world – we are here to serve the world, to give them good news, and to love them to Jesus.
If you wish to be great in the kingdom, be like Jesus. Love like Jesus. Serve like Jesus.
1 C. S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy: The Shape of My Early Life (New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, 1955), p 206
2 Op cit., p. 207