It was bound to happen. What with twelve thrones governing the twelve tribes, it would not be enough for some. This played out on the way to Jerusalem when we were met by the mother of James and John. The three of them came to Jesus and with pious ceremony knelt down in front of him. I was a bit surprised at this behavior in John. Somehow, it didn't fit his personality.

Such actions always embarrassed me, and I believe, embarrassed the Lord as well. I knew who he was. We all did. Yet his demeanor among us was never one of superiority. We laughed together, wept together, told stories together and, yes, sat at his feet to hear the wisdom and love of God. He was who he was and we were who we were, but still it was he who crossed the line. It was he who made us feel that we were a family, a fellowship of brothers. Though he was different from all of us, he was the same, a man of intellect, passion and action.

But they came and knelt, asking a favor of him. "What is it you wish?" he asked, as if he did not know. Perhaps he didn't. I never did comprehend the depth of his mind. Sometimes it seemed eternal, supernatural. Sometimes not.

Their mother said, "Grant that one of these two sons of mine may sit at your right and the other at your left in your kingdom." She must have been told of the twelve thrones.

Oddly, the request moved Jesus deeply. He placed his hand on her head to comfort her. "You don't know what you ask," he said. He knew, however, that she was serious. He turned to James and John, "Can you drink the cup I am going to drink?"

Without hesitation the brothers answered, "Oh, yes, Lord. We will do anything required of us!"

"You will, indeed," said Jesus, "far more than you now realize. The time will come when you will indeed drink from my cup and wish with all your heart that you had never so much as tasted it."

"Never, Lord!" from both of them.

Jesus merely looked at them, "I cannot grant what you request. To sit at my right or left is not for me to decide. These places belong to those for whom they have been prepared by my Father."

"Who then?" thought I. If not James and John, perhaps one of us? Simon, perhaps? Me? I rejected that thought instantly. More likely Moses or one of the prophets. Perhaps even Adam himself. Who? Was it someone who has yet to be born? Yet to believe? Someone thousands of years hence? How could it be?

Jesus called us together and said, "Gentlemen. Gentlemen, do not be angry with your brothers. They only know, as you do, of this world. In this world, rulers of the nations lord it over their citizens, and high officials exercise authority over them. It is not to be so with you. Authority among men is at its essence and at its best a secular exercise. Let there be no constituted authority among those who follow me. None! No vicars or bishops, no priests and no silly trappings. Let there be no institutions, however beneficent, for their evil is greater than their good. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be your slave--just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, to lay at the feet of his captors even his very life, so that the world may be emancipated."

The Servant.

That is why he had come among us. To serve. To give of himself for the sake of those he came to redeem. Though he is the Lord of Lords and King of Kings, that is not why he came. Though he is the Son of God, he came as the Son of Man. Jesus did not come to found a great religion. He came to give of himself. He came to serve.

After his death, we all forgot this clear and simple instruction. In this, we did not well.