What Are You Asking? – Homily for the 29th Sunday in Ordinary Time

When I was about eleven or twelve years old,
I was fascinated by the life of long-haul truckers.
I used to listen to songs by Red Sovine and Merle Haggard,
watch movies like Smokey and the Bandit,
and dream about living life on the road.
One year I asked my mom and dad for a CB radio for my birthday
so I could talk to all the truckers on the road from my room at home.
Their response was similar to Jesus’ answer to James and John:
“You do not know what you are asking.”
And it’s true. I had no idea what I was asking.

Have you ever asked for something
not realizing the full implications of your question?
Maybe when you were younger
you asked your parents if you could have a dog or a cat or a fish.
There was no way they could explain to you
just how much work it takes to care for an animal.

And there are those of us here who have popped a certain question.
What if when we asked “Will you marry me?”
the response we got was,
“You don’t know what you’re asking.”
But after all, how can a young couple possibly know
how their lives will be affected by that question?
Brenda and I have been married twenty-five years,
and we’re still finding that out.

When James and John ask Jesus to be seated in glory
on his right and left,
Jesus tells them, “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

What does Jesus mean by that?
On one level he means that they don’t know the full implications
of getting what they want.
They don’t yet fully realize what it means to be associated with Jesus.
After all, as spiritual writer Fr. Timothy Radcliffe puts it,
Jesus’ throne of glory is the cross,
and it’s two thieves that are destined to be on his left and on his right.
So Jesus tells them, “You don’t know what you’re asking,”
because they don’t see the full picture.

But on another level, there’s something else they don’t know.
There’s another meaning to Jesus’ question,
“You do not know what you are asking.”

They don’t realize why they’re asking the question.
In other words, they’re not aware of the question behind their question.
Why do they want seats of honor in the first place?

It’s easy for us to be hard on James and John
and see them as overambitious, self-serving and power-hungry,
but the reality is we all have the same temptation.

We all have a desire to be honored,
to be seen as important, to be publicly recognized.
That’s why there’s a baseball Hall of Fame,
why we hold award ceremonies,
why we name buildings after donors.

What is that desire?
Where does it come from?

Think about the last time you hungered for recognition,
either for yourself or for someone you care about.

What’s behind that?

Partly it comes from a need for meaning in our lives.
We want to believe that our lives count for something.
We want to know that our lives are worthwhile.

And so we look to honor and recognition to be validated.

I hear young people all the time talk about how much pressure they feel
to achieve at the highest levels.
They grow up thinking
that if they don’t make their mark in the world
through some grand gesture or accomplishment,
then they don’t matter.

And then when we reach mid-life
we look at where we are and where we’ve been
and we wonder if we’ve done anything important with our lives.
And even if we’ve received awards or recognition or financial success,
it still doesn’t feel enough.

We are all a bit like James and John,
wanting a seat of honor at the banquet.
It’s true even of the other ten apostles.
The gospel tells us they were “indignant” at James and John.
Why?
Because they beat them to the punch!
James and John got to Jesus first.
The other ten start to complain and so Jesus intervenes.

“You wish to be great?” he asks.
“You wish to be first?”
“You wish to sit in honor at the table?”

“You’re don’t know what you’re asking.”
It’s as if he’s saying
“What you really want is to be accepted,
to know that you matter, to be loved.”

That’s all any of us really want.
From the richest CEO to the homeless veteran, we all seek acceptance.
There are other things wrapped up in it, like power and control,
but at the end of the day it all boils down to wanting to be loved.

And so what message does Jesus have for those of us seeking
the place of honor at the banquet?
If you want to be great, he says,
if you want to be first,
then do not seek to be the guest of honor at the banquet,
do not even seek to dine at the banquet.
Rather, seek to be the waiter or waitress.

“Whoever wishes to be great among you will be your servant;
whoever wishes to be first among you will be the slave of all.”

That is Jesus’ response to us
when we seek to be honored or recognized.

Being the servant involves an entirely different set of questions.
Instead of asking “Can we sit on your right or on your left,
the servant asks questions like,
“How can I help you?”
“Are you comfortable?”
“Do you need anything else?”

Look at Jesus’ first words in today’s gospel:
“What do you wish me to do for you?”
To be a follower of Jesus means to be a servant.
It means to wait on tables.

The true disciple of Jesus recognizes
that he or she is already important,
that they already matter
by virtue of their creation by God.
All of us are already as important as we ever need to be.
We don’t have to sit in the place of honor at the banquet table,
we don’t have to be recognized in front of thousands of people.
We are already as important as we ever need to be.

This is what we mean
when we say that we believe that all human life is sacred,
from the pre-born infant to the elderly person suffering from Alzheimer’s.
It’s not what we do that gives our lives value,
but rather that we are made in God’s image.

The follower of Jesus recognizes their own worth and the worth of others.
And it’s by serving others that we acknowledge their dignity
and remind them of their value.
“The Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve.”

When we serve others, we validate their intrinsic worth,
we affirm their dignity.

And so there are two meanings to Jesus’ statement,
“You do not know what you are asking.”
And with each of those meanings is a challenge.
First, we are challenged to understand the implications
of being a true disciple.
We are challenged to move from seeking an honored place at the table
to being waiters and waitresses at the table,
to be servants.

And second, when Jesus asks us “What do you wish me to do for you?”
we are challenged to look at what lies beneath our desires
and to really know what we are asking for.

This last challenge was driven home to me this week
through a meditation I prayed with the other All Saints teachers.
Each morning before the students enter the building,
we teachers gather for prayer—both here at the primary building
and also at the middle building.

This year we’re using a book of meditations called Challenge,
organized and compiled by Jesuit priest Fr. Mark Link
and based on the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola.

I would like to conclude by sharing with you the reflection
we prayed a few days ago.
This was found written on a piece of paper
in the pocket of a dead Confederate soldier.

“I asked for health
that I might do greater things;
I was given infirmity,
that I might do better things…
I asked for riches,
that I might be happy;
I was given poverty,
that I might be wise…
I asked for power,
that I might have the praise of men;
I was given weakness,
that I might feel the need of God…
I got nothing I asked for,
but everything I hoped for.
Almost despite myself,
my unspoken prayers were answered.
I am among all men most richly blessed.”

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