One of the failings of parents (and I speak as one of course) is that they can be too proud of their kids.  Of course, it’s good and proper to take joy in your kids and to take delight in their achievements, but some parents go a bit over the top.  You know what I mean – in their Christmas letter they boast that their six month-old is potty-trained, their two year-old won the 1500 metre race at the local high school swimming gala, their 4 year-old has been chosen to play first violin in the New York Symphony Orchestra, or their 8 year-old has just graduated top of the class from Harvard Law School, or their 10 year-old has had to sadly turn down an invitation to represent the US at the Olympic Games because she wants to concentrate on developing a new space rocket with NASA.  So you can imagine my joy when I read about a postcard which some parents sent their teenage son when they were on vacation in Greece.  “Dear Son, today we stood high on a cliff overlooking the Adriatic from which the ancient Spartan women once hurled their defective children to the rocks below.  Wish you were here, love Mum and Dad.”

In this morning’s Gospel reading we came across a proud parent.  At least we would have if we were reading Matthew’s version of the incident, instead of Mark’s.  She was the wife of Zebedee, and the mother of James and John.  And James and John were disciples of Jesus.  And like every mum she’s proud of her lads.  They’d done well.  They’d chosen to leave their jobs and follow Christ around the country.  And their mum had seen the sacrifice they’d made for God’s sake.  She knew what Jesus meant to them and how much they’d given up in order to be his followers.  And, quite rightly, she knew that their love for God deserved recognition.  What they’d done for God was a wonderful thing and she was correct in thinking that it ought to be remembered.

So far so good.  The problem with James and John’s mum was that she went too far in her motherly pride.  Instead of taking simple pleasure at the faith and commitment of her sons she starts to think that they’re a bit more special than the other disciples. Back in the 1990s they used to say in Britain that British beef was the best in the world.  But then every country in the world says that their beef is the best in the world.  There’s no objective test for the standard of beef.  You can’t tell whose is the best – it’s all a matter of personal taste.  And so it is with parents.  Every decent, right-minded parent thinks their kid is the dearest, most special, loveable child in the world.  Certainly the mother of James and John did.  She thinks that her kids are so holy and so much better disciples than everyone else that they deserve places of honour in heaven.  So she goes to Jesus and says “Do you think you could arrange it for my boys to sit on your left and your right in glory.  Because they’re such good boys and they really love you very much.”  And, predictably, Jesus says, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.  What you’re asking for is not for me to grant.  God is in charge of the seating plan in heaven.”  Now, although it is their mum who does the talking in Matthew’s version you get the feeling that James and John themselves are involved in this request.  They were there when she asked the question, and there’s none of that “Mum!  Stop it, you’re embarrassing us in front of our friends.” No, they seem pretty happy with her question.  Mark here actually says right out that it is they who asked the question.  So what’s going on here is a proud mother thinking that her sons are the best things to happen to God since Abraham, supported by two arrogant young men who are quite happy with the idea that they’re something special.

Now, how would you feel if you were one of the other ten disciples?  You’d feel pretty angry with James and John.  You thought that you were all equals.  You’re just humbly getting on with the job of following Jesus, and then you turn your back for a half a minute and James and John have gone and put in a claim for special treatment in heaven.  Or, as Mark says, “When the ten heard this they were indignant with the two brothers”. 

There was once a very good door-to-door salesman whose secret lay in his opening sentence.  He used to stand on the doorstep and say “Good morning madam; let me show you something that your neighbour said you couldn’t afford.”  And just as his customers were stung into buying his product, so the ten disciples were stung in to action.  Pride is the only disease that makes everyone sick but the person who has it.  So Jesus calls all twelve of them together and gives them some of the most challenging teaching in the Bible.  And let’s face it, they were asking for it.  This is it, “Whoever wishes to be great among you must be the servant, and whoever wishes to be the first among you shall be the slave of all.  For the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

Such a no-nonsense challenge.  The call to humble service.  During the American Revolution a man in civilian clothes rode past a group of soldiers repairing a small defensive barrier.  Their leader was barking instructions but was making no attempt to help them.  The rider asked him why, and the soldier replied “Sir, I am a corporal!”  The stranger apologized, dismounted, and proceeded to help the exhausted soldiers.  The job done, he turned to the corporal and said “Corporal, next time you have a job like this and not enough men to do it, go to your commander in chief, and I will come and help you again.”  And with that George Washington got back on his horse and rode off.

Jesus came across many proud people, and it was them he reserved his most stinging criticism for.  These were the people who trusted in their own goodness to get them into heaven.  People who thought they were acceptable to God because of their religious pedigree and people who thought they were fine because they were moral.

And they still exist today.  These are people who think they that if God were to put all their good things on the scales and all their bad things on the other side, the good side would be heavier.  But this is the spiritual arrogance of James and John.  Sometimes those people are moved to ‘serve’, but it’s a sham.  They may be doing things that appear to be for others, but their motive is selfish – maybe they want others to think well of them, or perhaps they want to curry favour, or they feel guilty and they think that ‘serving’ will make them acceptable.  But the motive is still selfish because it is done for what they can get out of it rather than for the sake of God or the people they’re serving.  Richard Foster makes the distinction between this self-righteous service and true service.  He says

“Self-righteous service comes through human effort.  True service comes from a friendship with God.

Self-righteous service is impressed with the Big Deal.  True service cannot see the difference between small and large service.

Self-righteous service demands rewards.  True service is content to remain hidden.

Self-righteous service is concerned about results.  True service is free of the need to achieve.

Self-righteous service picks and chooses whom to serve.  True service is indiscriminate.

Self-righteous service is affected by moods and whims.  True service is simple and faithful because there is a need.

Self-righteous service is temporary.  True service is a life-style.

Self-righteous service insists on meeting a need even when to do so would be destructive.  True service can withhold service as freely as perform it.

Self-righteous service fractures community.  True service builds it.”

We are all familiar with the spiritual law that as you give so you shall receive.  And it is true with the subject of service.  As we serve others so we gain.  Now that seems to go against what you’d assume.  If you put yourself first and receive the service of others then you’ll be happy, right?  Well, no.  When we serve we receive from God what we can’t receive from serving ourselves.  I’m talking about a sense of fulfillment, satisfaction, the knowledge that you’ve done something important, that someone has been helped in some way because of you, that God has done something in someone’s life through you. 

In the Spanish town of Segovia there’s an aqueduct.  It was built in the year 109 AD.  For over 1800 years it carried cool water from the mountains to the dry and thirsty city.  Nearly sixty generations of people were kept alive and thriving because of this ancient wonder of engineering.  Then a more recent generation considered this beautiful treasure and turned its mind to preserving it.  “This aqueduct is so great a marvel that it ought to be preserved for the generations who follow us, as a monument to the ingenuity of its builders.  We shall take it out of use.”  They did.  They laid modern pipes.  And the aqueduct was relieved of its service.  But tragically, the aqueduct began to fall apart.  The sun beating down on the dry mortar caused it to crumble.  The bricks and stone sagged and threatened to fall.  Centuries of service kept the structure not just useful, but alive.  It was never meant to be a museum piece.  It had a purpose, and when well-meaning people tried to preserve it they ended up destroying it.

And so it is for us.  It is when we serve God and one another that we receive.  That is what we were meant for.  It’s not easy being a servant, especially when you don’t have to be.  But let’s not make the mistake of thinking that humility is the same as self-loathing.  Taking the place of humble service does not mean everyone else is better than you.  God created all human beings equal.  Jesus was divine but chose freely to make himself the servant of others.  And he could do it only because he was secure in God’s love.  To act as a servant to others you either have to have an inferiority complex, or be very sure of your value in the eyes of God.  If we do not believe that God really loves us and is proud of us, that were special to him, then we will find it harder to serve people.  We’ll be resenting it.  We’ll be thinking “Why should I be serving this person while they just sit there?  What about me, someone should be taking care of me?”  Jesus was able to act as a servant because he knew who he was.  He was sure deep down of his identity as God’s Son, and this gave him a solid foundation to his life, from which he was able to stoop and serve others.  He didn’t have to get uppity when he didn’t get his own way, or resent being put upon by others, or not receiving the praise and recognition he deserved.  He could be peaceful with the role of the servant.  And the same can be true of us.  But we need to grasp deep down that God loves us, that he values us, that we really matter to him, and that we are his children.  Only then can we confidently take on the role of a servant.

Now, did James and John learn their lessons?  Well, yes they did.  James went on to be a leader of the first church in Jerusalem, and wrote the letter in the New Testament, and John, well he was the Beloved disciple who seemed to have a special relationship with Christ.  So there’s hope too for us.  You may not feel very much like a servant, but that is our calling and we can take heart that The Great Servant, who came not be served but to serve, will give us hearts that can fulfil his calling.