Thesis sentence: Jesus calls us to a radical reversal of what it means to be great.

The senior class began our August Term here at ETSS almost 3 years ago. Like those that came before us, and those that will come after us, we each left behind many things to be here such as jobs and careers, family members, friends, churches, homes and the like. We experienced separation and a death of sorts. We arrived with our own expectations, fears, joys, and mourned our losses. We each shared in common that we didn't know how to "do" seminary. We were neophytes trying to figure out how to be in seminary. As Bill Adams told us, we were in a "limenal" place. We were in between, because we were not where we were and we were not where we were going. Bill told us that being in a limenal place was the most dangerous place because we were not on solid ground.

August Term for me was quite a limenal place -- there was very little solid ground -- for example, I was confronted with José Combline and a strange thing called liberation theology. I also remember when the list came out telling us what our seminary jobs were going to be. I scanned down the list for my name, and much to my relief saw that I was assigned to work in the library. Ironically, I recall thinking "Thank God I wasn't assigned to one of those housekeeping jobs, like the kitchen."

Like the Sons of Zebedee, I wanted to get a good seat in the new kingdom that was called seminary. The mother of James and John, the sons of Zebedee, asks Jesus for a favor, just a small one -- that her sons sit one at Jesus' right hand and one at his left in the kingdom. This seems like a reasonable request -- after all, why wouldn't it be natural for Jesus' followers to expect to get staring roles in the new kingdom? I think that Jesus sees through who really was making the request, it was John and James through their mother that make this request, because Jesus directly addresses them, not their mother, in response to this request. Interestingly, Jesus doesn't condemn the request, but instead points out that there is a price. If they want to share in the glory, they also have to be willing to suffer, almost a sort of no pain no gain theology.

Less than a month before the start of August term I had an excellent seat in the old kingdom of the material and secular world: a fancy leather chair at a fine inlaid desk in a spacious wood paneled office, with several secretaries, a paralegal, and an associate attorney to help work my litigation cases. But that was the old kingdom, and now in the new kingdom, I'd be riding a library chair at $8 an hour rather than a rich leather chair at my normal hourly rate as a litigator. But there in August Term, I recall thinking, at least I wasn't working house keeping.

Jesus asks James and John whether they really think that they can drink from the cup that he will be drinking from. Following Jewish tradition, Jesus speaks about the passion that he has predicted as a cup that he must drink. This isn't the cup of God's wrath that the prophets speak of, particularly since Jesus tells John and James that they also will drink from this same cup. Instead, this references that to drink from this cup is to accept one's God appointed death.

But what kind of death is it that Jesus speaks of? Is it a literal death, such as martyrdom? That's a pretty tough row to hoe. And it might be that this is what Jesus is speaking of for some. I for one wasn't expecting martyrdom in August Term. Or maybe it could also include other types of death, like letting go of old ideas and ways of being; like letting go of jobs and careers, family members, friends, churches, and homes. It may be that letting go is a type of death that has to happen for rebirth and resurrection to occur. It sounds just like the kind of thing that could happen in those dangerous, limenal places, like seminary.

In the new seminary kingdom I found myself in, I worked for a little while in the new library seat that had been given to me. Of course, God just has a fabulous sense of humor, which I seem to see and experience the most when I'm in those dangerous limenal places. Early in the semester one day after class, John Bennett was standing outside the classroom and wanted to talk with me. He told me that because of an injury, one of my classmates was not going to be able to his job, and that he wanted me to consider switching work-study jobs. I asked him, what the job was that he wanted me to switch to -- John Bennett said it would be to a house keeping job, specifically a rotation to work moping the kitchen, cleaning the dinning area and cleaning the auditorium and the weeks center lounge area. HMMM. House keeping, kitchen, cleaning -- I thought to myself, I don't think so. Since John Bennett had couched this in the form of a question it seemed that maybe I had a choice, so I told him I would think about it and get back to him. Of course in the back of my mind, I knew that the answer would be no after I thought about it for about a nanosecond. To this he replied, I don't think you understand, the housekeeping job is your new job.

Jesus told James and John that even though they readily agreed that they would drink from the cup, that this isn't any assurance of who is going to get the choicest seats in the kingdom. God alone selects those candidates, and despite James' and John's sacrifices and prominence as Jesus' followers, this was no assurance of where they would sit. There may be many humble servants of God who are far more deserving than they are. In fact, they might be very surprised when they see who it is that God appoints to the places of greatest honor.

James and John might be surprised to see who God ultimately appoints to the places of honor, but for me in the here and now, I was pretty darn surprised that in a two minute conversation, my appointed seat in the library was gone, and given to someone else. In its place was no seat at all, but a mop and bucket, a broom and dust pan, a rag and a spray bottle, and a vacuum cleaner. The very things that just weeks before I had thought with relief that I had dodged. For the rest of that semester I did the rotation of moping the kitchen, cleaning the dining area and also the auditorium and lounge area. I did it, but wasn't happy about it, and I did a lot of grumbling to myself. I didn't like the work and didn't want to do the work. After all, just a few months before I had a prominent leather seat in the old kingdom, and now this? It just didn't seem very equitable.

The spring semester of my junior year I continued on in my house-keeping job. I did the work mostly at night, after the kids were in bed. Something happened in me over time doing the job. It was very quiet and no one was around. All of the work was very rhythmic and repetitive. There were no interruptions. I slowly stopped griping to myself about the equities of me doing the job and I started being silent and still as I worked. The work often evolved into a meditative, prayerful experience. From time to time at night doing this job I would be thinking and praying about something and occasionally would have some insights. It seems that I was now in a position that allowed some teachable moments.

Jesus found a great teachable moment when the other apostles became angry at James and John for their attempt to secure a higher status than the others. Jesus lets them know he is establishing a community where the only valid ambition will be the aspiration to serve as faithfully as possible. Jesus contrasts the material world with his kingdom. Jesus says that the material world measures success and greatness in terms of those who successfully lord their power over others. But in Jesus' kingdom greatness is measured in terms of service. Jesus tells the apostles: "who ever wishes to be great among you must be your servant." Against the power hungry material world, Jesus tells the apostles that greatness in his kingdom means becoming a servant, literally a table servant, or waiter/waitress, a deacon, diakonos. This idea is even further intensified with Jesus telling them that "whoever wishes to be first among you must be your slave, doulos." This is a position of status, the low status of a slave.

For the apostles, and for Christians everywhere, we are reminded by Jesus that no matter how distinguished our service to the church or to humanity, or even if we are "cradle Episcopalians" we are not to claim to be in a superior position or status. This continues the theme of reversal that runs throughout Matthew. In God's kingdom, the yardstick is reversed, and the first shall be last. In fact, Jesus doesn't just tell the disciples that this is the way they should be in just some future kingdom, but instead Jesus models this for them in their present. Jesus says: "The Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many." Jesus tells them that their king is not going to be served as kings of the present age are served, but instead that Jesus came to serve and to give his life. It is clear that Jesus, the Son of Man, is the model for the disciples' own lives and ministry in their present time, just as he is in our present time.

So there I was, in my own present time, mopping the kitchen, taking out the trash, cleaning the dinning area and vacuuming and grumbling to myself about it. As it became more of a meditative and prayerful time for me, I came into a time and way of being that a teachable moment presented itself. With rather startling clarity, it came to me one evening in the centering rhythm of mopping that if I felt that I was too good to do this job, then how in the world could I be a priest? I came to understand that if I continued to measure success and greatness in terms of the material world, that this wasn't going to work in God's kingdom.

And there it was right in front of me - if I felt I needed a good leather seat in the new kingdom, well, don't bother applying. Instead greatness in God's kingdom is measured in terms of service. I gotta say, that teachable moment woke me up and made think about what I was really called to. Over the past 3 years of mopping and cleaning it has continued to keep me thinking about what we are called to. Can we drink from the cup? What does it really mean in the here and now to be a table servant, a waiter/waitress, a deacon, a priest? What does it really mean that "whoever wishes to be first among you must be your slave?"

With Jesus as our model, we can follow this radical reversal of what it means to be great.