29th Sunday in Ordinary Time – Year B
Mark 10: 35-45
James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came to Jesus and said to him, “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.” He replied, “What do you wish me to do for you?” They answered him, “Grant that in your glory we may sit one at your right and the other at your left.” Jesus said to them, “You do not know what you are asking. Can you drink the cup that I drink or be baptized with the baptism with which I am baptized?” They said to him, “We can.” Jesus said to them, “The cup that I drink, you will drink, and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized; but to sit at my right or at my left is not mine to give but is for those for whom it has been prepared.” When the ten heard this, they became indignant at James and John. Jesus summoned them and said to them, “You know that those who are recognized as rulers over the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones make their authority over them felt. But it shall not be so among you. Rather, whoever wishes to be great among you will be your servant; whoever wishes to be first among you will 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.
Isaiah 53:2a.,3a.,10-11; Hebrews 4:14-16; Mark 10:35-45
WHAT CROWN, WHAT DIADEM DOES GOD CHOOSE?
Fernando Armellini
The first schism in the Church occurred before the eyes of Jesus: two disciples against ten and ten against two (Mk 10:35-41). The reason for the dispute: not a theological discussion or the rejection of some dogma, but the eagerness for power, the competition for the first places. It was the beginning of a painful history of ecclesial divisions and conflicts, always determined by petty rivalries.
When someone wants to prevail over others, the group crumbles. But not even the democratic system eliminates quarrels because it does not cure them at the root; it is only a game of balances, an attempt to reconcile opposing egoisms.
Jesus constituted the Twelve so that in the world, they would be the sign of a new society in which all pretensions to domination were abolished and a single ambition was cultivated: the service of the poorest. An arduous task. From the beginning, the mentality of this world infiltrated the Church as well, and over the centuries, the criteria of this world re-emerged: domination, possession, and subjugation of others.
The tiara, the pope’s famous headdress, was the symbol of the authority and universal jurisdiction of the bishop of Rome. Its origin remains uncertain, but in the thirteenth century, it consisted of a single crown, in the next century of two and, a few decades later, three crowns superimposed, symbols of the three kingdoms over which the pope extended his power: heaven, earth and underground. Elected Pope, Paul VI made a historic gesture: he placed it on his head and immediately took it off, this time forever. The triregnum was too equivocal a symbol, too compromised, incompatible with the only glorious diadem that had adorned the Master’s head, the crown of thorns.
Gospel: Mark 10:35-45
Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem; he precedes his disciples with a quick step, and they follow him fearfully because, twice, he has already explained to them the destination of the journey. In the verses immediately preceding today’s passage, the Master announces his destiny for the third time: he will be insulted, condemned to death, scourged, and killed (vv. 32-34).
As a reaction, we would expect the disciples to try to dissuade him from continuing his journey, suggesting that he stop for a moment to wait for better times. Nothing of the sort. Yet it is impossible that, after hearing such clear words about the destiny of Jesus, they should continue to delude themselves that he is going up to Jerusalem to begin the messianic period, understood as the kingdom of this world.
They know very well that their master must pass through humiliation and death, but they have already begun to think about what will happen next. At this point, their senselessness reaches its peak. Their dreams of glory do not stop even in the face of death; they manage to overcome even this prospect, which is now taken for granted. This reveals how deeply rooted in man are the lust for power and the aspiration to occupy places of honor.
James and John, the two sons of Zebedee, present themselves to Jesus and, in front of everyone, without a hint of discretion, tell him, “We want you to do for us whatever we ask of you” (v. 35). They do not ask ‘please,’ but they demand, as one who claims a right.
They remember that, after the first announcement of the passion (Mk 8:31), Jesus spoke of the day when “he comes in his Father’s glory with the holy angels” (Mk 8:38). They removed all the rest of the Master’s discourse, but this term ‘glory,’ employed by Jesus only once, they never forgot. They linked it to the rabbis’ teaching, who, referring to the messiah, assures that he ‘will sit on the throne of glory’ to judge and that the righteous will sit at his side. James and John explicitly claim to be elevated to heaven, to be able to rule there as well. It is the boldest and blindest of arrogance; it shows where the will to emerge, inherent in the human heart, can lead.
When Mark writes this passage, things have radically changed: James has already given his life for Christ, died a martyr in Jerusalem (Acts 12:2), and John is generously devoting himself to the cause of the Gospel. In the end, therefore, they have proved that they have understood the Master’s teaching and the primitive community has an immense reverence for them. Thus, Luke avoids reporting the episode, and Matthew modifies it, assuring them that it was their mother who had come forward, and places more polite words on the woman’s lips (Mt 20:20-24). The event, however, unfolded as Mark related it.
The two brothers were not mere disciples but two eminent figures of the early church, and yet, faced with the central proposal of the Christian message, they too showed total incomprehension for a long time. They adapted, albeit with some difficulty and after raising objections, to some of the moral demands of the Master, that of indissoluble marriage for example; they abandoned everything to follow him, but when he spoke of the renunciation of domination, of power… they just could not understand him.
Mark’s goal is to make the Christians of his communities reflect. Even after violent persecution such as Nero’s, the competition for the top positions re-emerged among them. The most exemplary Christians, the most committed, the most available to the service of their brothers and sisters, those who actively collaborate in all community initiatives, are often the most tempted to impose themselves on others, and their naive desire to excel always ends up creating disagreements. We should not be surprised that these weaknesses appear; even the most eminent apostles were victims of them.
When among his disciples the pretensions of honors, of privileges, of first places resurfaced, Jesus did not show himself to be tender (Mk 8:33; 9:33-36) because every ambition, even that which may appear innocent, calls into question the central point of his proposal. With James and John, he was harsh and severe: “You do not know what you are asking for.” Then, to help them understand, he introduced two images: the chalice and baptism.
The first refers to a well-known practice in Israel: the father or the one who occupied the first place at the table, as a gesture of esteem and affection, used to offer a drink from his cup to the person he preferred. This image is often taken up in the Bible, sometimes in a positive sense: “The Lord is part of my inheritance and my cup” (Ps 16:5), most often in a negative sense: “Jerusalem, you have drunk from the hand of the Lord the cup of his wrath” (Is 51:17).
The cup indicates the destiny, good or bad, of a person. Jesus knows that a cup of sorrow awaits him, a cup from which he would like to be spared (Mk 14:36), but which he must drink to enter into glory. The image of baptism has the same meaning: it indicates the passage through the waters of death. The sufferings and afflictions to which the righteous are subjected are often compared in the Bible to immersion in deep waters or to the rush of rushing waters (Ps 69:2-3; 42:8).
Are they ready, James and John, to drink the cup of the Master? Are they willing to follow him on the path of the gift of life? Do they feel like plunging with him into the waters of suffering and death? They have understood and, to reach their goal, they are determined even to suffer.
Jesus respects their slowness in understanding God’s plans. He announces that they too will share his destiny of suffering and death one day, they will drink from his same cup, and they will give their lives. Then he answers their request: the place in glory is a gift from the Father; it cannot be conquered by presenting merits. They make the mistake of imagining the kingdom of God on the model of the kingdoms of this world where there is a race to the top. They fail to understand that, before God, one cannot make claims based on good works: from him, one receives everything as a gift (v. 40).
The indignant reaction of the other ten shows that they too are far from having assimilated the thought of the Master, and here is the schism within the group. The community of disciples reproduces what happened to Israel after the death of King Solomon. Rehoboam’s frenzy for power had caused the division of the kingdom: two tribes had lined up against ten and ten against two (1 Kings 12). The history of their people should have taught the disciples something.
Jesus again takes the floor to clarify the theme of hierarchies and the exercise of power within his community (vv. 41-45). After calling the disciples to himself, he does so, an expression that in Mark serves to focus attention on a particularly important message. “You know,” Jesus explains, “that those who are recognized as rulers over the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones make their authority over them felt” (v. 42).
The Master’s subtle irony towards the holders of power shines through from the expression “those who are recognized as rulers,” an irony that becomes more explicit in the parallel passage in Luke where Jesus speaks of those who ‘exercise complete dominion’ over others and, what is more… “are addressed as ‘Benefactors'” (Lk 22:25). The analysis of how these leaders fulfill their task serves Jesus to define how the ministry of presidency within the Christian community is to be carried out.
The disciples have various models of authority before their eyes. They know the political and religious leaders, the rabbis, the scribes, the temple priests. They all exercise power in the same way: they give orders, claim privileges, demand to be revered as the ceremony prescribes; in front of them, one must kneel, kiss the hand, carefully dose the titles choosing those convenient and appropriate to the position and prestige of each.
Is it from these authorities that the disciples must be inspired? There should be no doubt or perplexity on this point. Jesus gives a clear and peremptory order to his disciples: “Among you, not so!” (v. 43). None of these types of authority can be taken as an example.
The model to imitate—he explains—is the slave, who occupies the lowest level in society, the one to whom everyone is entitled to give orders. Just as the servant is always attentive, day and night, to the desires of his master, so he who carries out the ministry of presidency in the Christian community must consider everyone as his superior, must feel that he is the last and the servant of all.
The disciples of the rabbis followed the master and learned his teachings, obeyed his every order, walked while he rode on a donkey, kept their distance, and volunteered to perform all services, even the most menial, such as cleaning his house and washing his feet. They were willing to lower themselves to one day become rabbis themselves and be entitled to the same privileges and the same high social position as the master.
Jesus rejects this logic; he does not want anyone to serve him. He places himself in the midst of his own as the one who serves and reminds everyone that “the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve” (v. 45). He does not demand that they wash his feet; he himself stoops to wash the disciples’ feet.
To complete the picture, we can recall other attitudes that Jesus harshly condemned, attitudes to which the Christian must feel an instinctive repulsion: making a spectacle of oneself, being noticed (Mt 23:5), going dressed in uniforms, in particular clothes, to distinguish oneself from others (Mk 12:38); claiming places of honor at feasts, the first seats in the synagogues; demanding to be called ‘rabbi,’ ‘teacher,’ ‘father’ (Mt 23:6-10). The strict message of the Master is addressed to those in the Church who are invested with authority but not only. Anyone who wants to follow the Master must consider himself the ‘servant’ of all.
The disciples want to rise up
and Jesus wants to immerse Himself.
Pope Francis
The Gospel of today’s Liturgy (Mk 10:35-45) narrates that two disciples, James and John, ask the Lord to one day sit beside him in glory, as if they were “prime ministers”, or something like that. But the other disciples hear this, and become indignant. At that point, Jesus patiently offers them a great teaching: true glory is not obtained by rising over others, but by experiencing the same baptism that He would receive just a little later in Jerusalem, that is, the cross. What does this mean? The word “baptism” means “immersion”: through his Passion, Jesus immersed himself into death, offering his life to save us. Therefore, his glory, the glory of God, is love that becomes service, not power that seeks to dominate. Not power that seeks to dominate, no! But love that becomes service. Thus, Jesus ends by saying to his disciples and to us as well: “Whoever would be great among you must be your servant” (v. 43). In order to become great, you will have to take the path of service, serving others.
We are in front of two different types of logic: the disciples want to rise up and Jesus wants to immerse Himself. Let us pause on these two verbs. The first is to rise up. It expresses that worldly mentality to which we are always tempted: to experience everything, including relationships, in order to feed our ambition, to climb the ladder of success, to reach important positions. The quest for personal prestige can become a spiritual malady masquerading itself even behind good intentions: for example, when behind the good that we do and preach, we are only seeking ourselves and our own affirmation, that is, getting ahead and climbing up. And we see this even in the Church. How many times, we Christians, who should be servants, try to climb up, to get ahead. We should thus, always evaluate our heart’s real intentions, asking ourselves: “Why am I carrying out this work, this responsibility? To offer service or rather to be recognised, praised and to receive compliments”? Jesus contrasts this worldly logic with his own: instead of exalting yourself over others, getting off the pedestal to serve them; instead of rising above others, immersing one’s self in the lives of others. I was watching on the program “A Sua Immagine” (in His image), on the service provided by Caritas to ensure that no one be without food: being concerned about the hunger of others, being concerned about the needs of others. Today, there are many, many people in need, and after the pandemic there are many more. Looking and lowering ourselves in service and not seeking to climb up for one’s own glory.
Here then is the second verb: to be immersed. Jesus asks us to immerse ourselves. And how should we immerse ourselves? Compassionately in the lives of those we meet. There, [on that programme], we were watching hunger but do we think compassionately about the hunger of so many people? When we have a meal before us, which is a grace from God that we can eat, there are many people who work and are unable to have enough food. Do we think about this? Immersing ourselves with compassion, having compassion. It is not a fact from an encyclopedia… No! They are people. And do I have compassion on people? Compassion for the lives of those we meet, like Jesus did with me, with you, with all of us, he drew near with compassion.
Let us look at the Crucified Lord, completely immersed in our wounded history, and we will discover God’s way of doing things. We see that he did not remain above in heaven to look down on us from up there, but he lowered himself to wash our feet. God is love and love is humble, it does not exalt itself, but comes down like the rain that falls to earth and brings life. But how can we adopt the same direction as Jesus, going from raising ourselves up to immersing ourselves, from the mentality of prestige, worldly prestige, to that of service, Christian service? Dedication is needed, but that is not enough. It is difficult alone, but not impossible, for we have a strength within that helps us. It is the strength of Baptism, of that immersion in Jesus that all of us have already received through grace that directs us, moving us to follow him instead of seeking our interests, but to put ourselves at the service of others. It is a grace, a fire that the Spirit has kindled in us that needs to be nurtured. Today, let us ask the Holy Spirit to renew the grace of Baptism in us, that immersion in Jesus, in his way of being, to be more like servants, to be servants like he has been with us.
And let us pray to Our Lady: even though she was the greatest, she did not seek to rise up, but was the humble servant of the Lord, and is completely immersed in our service to help us encounter Jesus.
Angelus 17/10/2021
“The Great Exercise of Power”
Fr. Raniero Cantalamessa
After the Gospel on riches, this Sunday’s Gospel gives us Christ’s judgment on another of the great idols of the world: power.
Power, like money, is not intrinsically evil. God describes himself as “the Omnipotent” and Scripture says “power belongs to God” (Psalm 62:11).
However, given that man had abused the power granted to him, transforming it into control by the strongest and oppression of the weakest, what did God do?
To give us an example, God stripped himself of his omnipotence; from being “omnipotent,” he made himself “impotent.”
He “emptied himself, taking the form of a servant” (Philippians 2:7). He transformed power into service. The first reading of the day contains a prophetic description of this “impotent” Savior. “He grew up like a sapling before him, like a shoot from the parched earth. … He was spurned and avoided by men, a man of suffering, accustomed to infirmity.”
Thus a new power is revealed, that of the cross: “Rather, God chose the foolish of the world to shame the wise” (1 Corinthians 1:27). In the Magnificat, Mary sings in advance this silent revolution brought by the coming of Christ: “He has thrown down the rulers from their thrones” (Luke 1:52).
Who is accused under this denunciation of power? Only dictators and tyrants? Would that it were so! It would refer, in this case, to exceptions. Instead, it affects us all. Power has infinite ramifications, it gets in everywhere, as certain sands of the Sahara when the sirocco wind blows. It even gets into the Church.
The problem of power, therefore, is not posed only in the political realm. If we stay in that realm, we do no more than join the group of those who are always ready to strike others’ breast for their own faults. It is easy to denounce collective faults, or those of the past; it is far more difficult when it comes to personal and present faults.
Mary says that God “dispersed the arrogant of mind and heart; he has thrown down the rulers from their thrones” (Luke 1:51ff.). She singles out implicitly a precise area in which the “will to power” must be combated: our own hearts.
Our minds — the thoughts of the heart — can become a kind of throne on which we sit to dictate laws and thunder against those who do not submit to us. We are, at least in our wishes if not in deeds, the “mighty on thrones.”
Sadly, in the family itself it is possible that our innate will to power and abuse might manifest itself, causing constant suffering to those who are victims of it, which is often — not always — the woman.
What does the Gospel oppose to power? Service: a power for others, not over others!
Power confers authority, but service confers something more, authority that means respect, esteem, a true ascendancy over others. The Gospel also opposes power with nonviolence, that is, power of another kind, moral, not physical power.
Jesus said that he could have asked the Father for twelve legions of angels to defeat his enemies who were just about to crucify him (Matthew 26:53), but he preferred to pray for them. And it was in this way that he achieved victory.
Service is not always expressed, however, in silence and submission to power. Sometimes it can impel one to raise one’s voice against power and its abuses. This is what Jesus did. In his life he experienced the abuse of the political and religious power of the time. That is why he is close to all those — in any environment (the family, community, civil society) –who go through the experience of an evil and tyrannical power.
With his help it is possible not “to be overcome by evil,” as he was not — more than that, to “overcome evil with good” (Romans 12:21).
[Translation by ZENIT]
