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
