You do not know what you are asking

You do not know what you are asking.

In the Gospel today James and John have mommy ask their Rabbi, whom they are pretty sure is the Messiah, if they can be his favorites once He gets what’s His.  Likely, their vision of what this would be involves them sitting in splendor and glory at Jesus’ side looking and feeling pretty awesome.  James and John have already seen the Transfiguration (though they’re not allowed to tell anyone), so they had a sense of what that glory will be like.

Only Jesus knows perfectly what their motives were for asking this: whether it was pride, excessive zeal and excitement, or something better like a desire to be near him, to be closest to him. 

Whatever it was, his answer applies: “You do not know what you are asking:”  In spite of the fact that back in their days at Capernaum, he had illustrated true greatness by showing them a child (Matt 18:4), they haven’t caught on. They’re asking him to give them things according to their ideas, according to their perception of the way things should be.  So he warns them: you don’t see the whole picture, you don’t really know what that means: it means something different in your vision than it means in mine (which is the truth, since I’m God).

Are you able to drink the Chalice that I am to drink?

Jesus’ answer doesn't end there: he finishes it with a question: “Are you able to drink the chalice that I am to drink?”

Looking forward to the next time Jesus talks about a cup or chalice he is going to drink (Matt 26:39) we see Him in the Garden of Gethsemane, praying to the Father.  And the way he thinks about that chalice teaches us something about how we should ask things of God: not my will, but yours be done.

When we pray, we model after Jesus.  We should ask God for what our hearts desire.  Jesus did this, even asking to be spared the Crucifixion.   But the words he finished that prayer with made all the difference.  They should be part of our every prayer: not my will, but yours be done.

This not my will, but yours shouldn't be just a caveat we add to our prayers so that we’re “doing it right”, or even just display of deference to God.  It should well up from a disposition of our heart, an attitude brought about by the realization that no matter what we want, what God wants is best, and if what God wants is best, then what’s to keep us from praying for it with all our heart? 

So we come to him asking for all the things on our heart, but we move in the direction of trust and dependence, saying:

You know infinitely, so you know what I want even better than I do; you love infinitely, so you want what’s best for me; you are infinitely powerful, so you can do it: so what could I ever want except that your will be done?

-Tony Visintainer