Is 53:10-11 | Ps 33 | Heb 4:14-16 | Mk 10:35-45 or 10:42-45
Who among us doesn’t face a flood of demands day after day? Some demands gain our attention, like a child asking for homework help, or needing papers signed. Others are written off as ridiculous, like spam e-mails and phone calls that offer constant interuption. Many would add the outburst from James and John in today’s gospel to the second list.
Listeners of this passage often mock the brothers for making demands that appear conceited and insensitive. It certainly takes some gall to tell the Son of God: “We want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.” Then to request the two most coveted seats in all of heaven and earth seems almost comical. Where did these guys conjure up such nerve!? Have they not been listening to Jesus’ warnings about his impending death and all the suffering that stems from discipleship?
James and John certainly didn’t have it all together—no one does. But perhaps their far-out request masked a more familiar motivation. Maybe these two disciples sought security from the man who promised: “All things are possible for God.” Why wouldn’t they crave such a state? Consider their journey so far: James and John are out fixing their nets, minding their own business, when Jesus comes over and calls them. Their life is forever changed when they leave their father to follow him. Over time, the brothers watch Jesus heal people left for dead, cast out demons, forgive those who do not seem to deserve it, and feed thousands from five loaves and two fish. They see people mock his miracles and threaten all their lives. They listen to Jesus himself predict his own suffering and death.
How their guts must have sunk as the brothers imagined the similar fates that awaited them. The desire for a little security makes sense. “Follow me” to the cross is a frightening summons to a life of sacrifice and suffering. James and John saw the trials firsthand. It tired their trust. Who wouldn’t relish a guarantee that after a lifetime of hard work, a special seat sits waiting on the other side?
Yet once again, Jesus invites his disciples, and all of us, to break free from our worldly wants. He promises that the way of the cross, while challenging, will be the way of connection, growth, and ultimately, eternal life. Jesus’ sacramental references remind us that the way of the cross is a communal way. We share in the waters of baptism. We drink from the same sacred cup (or did). The ritual celebrations we engage in as a Church are meant to draw us closer to one another and to Jesus himself, who promises his full presence when two or three are gathered in his name.
Signed, sealed, and nourished by the sacraments, we are sent out into the world to be people of service. We are called to take up the cross in our homes and workplaces, across our neighborhoods and beyond. Saint Noel sought to do this in a radical way as a Jesuit missionary, working among the native people of a new France (Canada). Beginning at the age of 30, and then for five years more, he struggled to bring the Huron indigenous people to Christ. He had great difficulty in learning their native language and had a personal aversion to their primitive and base lifestyle. He literally couldn’t stomach the food. He found out rather quickly how challenging it was for him to be the missionary he wished to be. Twice, I believe, he was offered the opportunity to return to the comfort of France; and though tempted, vowed to God to remain with the native peoples until his death. Only two years later, Noel was murdered by an apostate Huron Indian.
Not unlike the life of the suffering Christ, Noel served faithfully, although he felt like a failure. He’s the silent hero of a difficult trail, a patron of the lonely and disappointed (he suffered martyrdom and the Church only names him, “a companion”) a man of great courage and faith in the face of tremendous hardship.
Every encounter with another person or this earth, each call answered, each forgiveness granted, each injustice challenged offers opportunities for growth. Our bodies—and hearts—know growth never comes without aches and pains. Yet we keep going, together. We keep taking up the cross of daily demands time and time again, trusting that this is the path to eternal life. Through affliction, we trust that we will “see the light in fullness of days” as the prophet Isaiah says in today’s first reading. Jesus promises that the darkness of the cross leads to the light of resurrection. May we find strength in Our Lord's promise, just as our patron Saint Noel did with the time he was given.