In contemporary psycho-babble, you might say James and John had major “control issues” surrounding their self-serving request of Jesus in today’s Gospel. “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.”

One can practically imagine Jesus’ eyeballs rolling as he asks them in reply, “And just what is it you want me to do for you?”

James’ and John’s request is a classic illustration of the oft-quoted adage that “familiarity breeds contempt.”

In their minds, it was no biggie really — just a simple little request. Nothing much actually — just a heavenly throne was all, one on either side of Jesus, one to his right and the other to his left, in glory.

Just a little power, maybe a bit of privilege, just a titch of prestige. Was that too much to ask?

Jesus had just taken the Twelve aside to inform them as to why they were on their way to Jerusalem. “We are going to Jerusalem,” he said, “and the Son of Man will be betrayed to the chief priests and teachers of the law. They will condemn him to death and will hand him over to the Gentiles, who will mock him and spit on him, flog him and kill him. Three days later he will rise.” Jesus could not have been any clearer with his words, but the Twelve could not have been any more deaf with their ears. This selective hearing par excellence. If they were taking the road to Jerusalem, they preferred the “scenic route” — no suffering and death, if you please.

And so James and John, Zebedee’s boys, speak up. Their opportunistic request is such a non-sequitor it would be comical if it weren’t so tragic. In fact, one scholar calls the request “tragicomic”: “Do for us whatever we ask of you.” … Give us everything we ask for … “Grant us to sit, one at your right and one at your left…”

Little did they know just who would have the “places of honor” at the right and left hand of Jesus after they all arrived in Jerusalem. One wonders if they remembered their request when they saw the thieves crucified on either side of Jesus.

Yet isn’t it true that we can hear our own voices echoing in the self-directed wish list of James and John? Might there not be just a few Zebedee genes in all of us?

For how often have we not set ourselves down for a session of prayer, half-expecting that as we do we are also sitting Jesus down like children with Santa Claus, reciting our own self-directed wish lists?

“Lord, please give me this. Lord, please give me that.”

“Lord, I need you to do this…Lord, I need you to do that…”

“Lord, I ask that you help me with this… Lord, I ask you…”

Jesus has always had this problem, you see. He has always had followers who have used him as a stepping stone rather than as a resting place. He has always had followers who, despite their proximity to him and his teaching, distance themselves from genuine, authentic, and true discipleship. Jesus has always had followers who line up with their mile-long lists of requests, but who rarely line up to offer themselves to his service.

In his book, “Seasons of a Lifetime,” the late Rev. Dr. Gerhard Frost, beloved Lutheran seminary professor and homespun poet muses on being a follower of Jesus. In a piece entitled, “What I Don’t Like About Jesus,” he writes (p.144):

“Jesus always has had followers who preferred to wear a crown than to bear a cross. But to us would-be crown-wearers, Jesus says ‘Whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all.”

Martin Luther summed up the life of a Christian in his usual paradoxical fashion. He said that a Christian is “a perfectly free lord and subject to none while at the same time being a perfectly dutiful servant, and subject to all.”

In other words, in Christ we are free to be who we are at while at the very same time bound — enslaved — to Christ, who was the servant of servants, and the servant of all.

I, for one, am grateful this morning for the reassuring words from our second reading. Knowing how we are, knowing how we too struggle with our own Zebedee gene that afflicts us even as it did James and John, Jesus acts as our high priest, making intercession on our behalf to God, and then in mercy turning toward us. Hear again those words of promise and compassion: “He (that is, Jesus our high priest) is able to deal gently with the ignorant and wayward, since he himself is subject to weakness…”

Today, Jesus gently invites way wayward likes of you and me to embrace his pattern of self-giving and humble servanthood in our daily struggle to live faithfully as his followers today. The one who was “wounded for our transgressions and crushed for our iniquities” invites us to find our way in the shape and pattern of his suffering, death, and resurrection. He would have us open our eyes and ears to become what we receive as we gather around the table: his very body and blood, broken and spilled out for the life of the world.

Jesus invites us to go out from this place and serve those who have not yet found their way to the font or to this table — to be witnesses of God’s life-giving “YES” in a world full of shadows and “NOs.”

Jesus seeks out a community, a body, which will serve and give itself away. Some of that activity will be dramatic and powerful; some will be found in quiet acts of grace and mercy. But for all of us it means we are invited to become last so that others might be first.

I wonder what it would be like if James’ and John’s question could be placed in Jesus’ mouth and asked of us: “I want you to do for me whatever I ask of you.”

And then I wonder what it would be like if Jesus’ response to James’ and John’s request was our response to Jesus: “What is it you want for me to do for you?”

What is it that you are being called to? To what kind of service is God nudging you?

Come to the table today, and to the healing oils if you so desire, and receive the nourishment and strength to do it.

For we, like Christ, are here on this earth “not be served, but to serve” and to give our lives away for the sake of world so beloved of God.

For if we really believe God is in control, then maybe we ought to let God work out God’s “control issues” … with us.

Amen