What do you want me to do for you?

Our question for today comes from Mark chapter 10. I’m going to read two consecutive stories in which Jesus asks the exact same question in two very different situations. As you listen, pay close attention to the question Jesus asks—and to the very different answers he receives.

The Request of James and John

³⁵ Then James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came to him. “Teacher,” they said, “we want you to do for us whatever we ask.”

³⁶ “What do you want me to do for you?” he asked.

³⁷ They replied, “Let one of us sit at your right and the other at your left in your glory.”

³⁸ “You don’t know what you are asking,” Jesus said. “Can you drink the cup I drink or be baptized with the baptism I am baptized with?”

³⁹ “We can,” they answered.

Jesus said to them, “You will drink the cup I drink and be baptized with the baptism I am baptized with, ⁴⁰ but to sit at my right or left is not for me to grant. These places belong to those for whom they have been prepared.”

⁴¹ When the ten heard about this, they became indignant with James and John. ⁴² Jesus called them together and said, “You know that those who are regarded as rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their high officials exercise authority over them. ⁴³ Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, ⁴⁴ and whoever wants to be first must be slave of all. ⁴⁵ For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

Blind Bartimaeus Receives His Sight

⁴⁶ Then they came to Jericho. As Jesus and his disciples, together with a large crowd, were leaving the city, a blind man, Bartimaeus (which means “son of Timaeus”), was sitting by the roadside begging. ⁴⁷ When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”

⁴⁸ Many rebuked him and told him to be quiet, but he shouted all the more, “Son of David, have mercy on me!”

⁴⁹ Jesus stopped and said, “Call him.”

So they called to the blind man, “Cheer up! On your feet! He’s calling you.” ⁵⁰ Throwing his cloak aside, he jumped to his feet and came to Jesus.

⁵¹ “What do you want me to do for you?” Jesus asked him.

The blind man said, “Rabbi, I want to see.”

⁵² “Go,” said Jesus, “your faith has healed you.” Immediately he received his sight and followed Jesus along the road.

This is the first time I’ve noticed this, but Jesus essentially asks the exact same question in two very different settings. I don’t think the placement of these two stories is coincidental. Mark seems to want us to learn something by placing them side by side.

The question, “What do you want me to do for you?” is almost exactly the question we would want God to ask us. We want so much from God, and often wonder why we don’t receive more. But these two stories make the question much more complicated. Perhaps the question is not only about whether God will give us what we want, but about what our wants reveal about us. James and John come to Jesus almost with a blank cheque request “We want you to do for us whatever we ask.” Jesus does not refuse to hear their desire. Instead, he asks them to name it: “What do you want me to do for you?”

“Let one of us sit at your right and the other at your left in your glory.” That’s a bold request. Most of us want closeness to God, but the disciples wanted more: they wanted to share in his glory. So the question we need to ask ourselves is: What is actually wrong with their answer? Their desire isn’t completely absurd. They believe Jesus is going toward glory. That is why they have left their families, their homes, and their security to follow him through his mission and journey. They clearly have considerable faith in his future. They want to be close to him when he gets there and to share that glory.

And to be fair to James and John, most of us may not have the devotion and commitment to God that they had. We sometimes ridicule the disciples when we read their stories today. If we were in their shoes, we may not have had the courage or dedication they had, and they certainly did not have the hindsight that we have now.

The problem with what the disciples want is that they have completely misunderstood what the glory of God looks like.

As in the Gospel of John, Mark also plays with the themes of blindness and sight, and these two stories bring that contrast into sharp focus. The disciples have been with Jesus and have walked beside him throughout his ministry. They have physical sight, yet their spiritual sight is in question. The story of Bartimaeus highlights this beautifully. Bartimaeus cannot physically see—that is why he seeks Jesus. Yet in another sense, his vision seems clearer than the disciples’. His physical eyes are blind, but his spiritual sight seems remarkably clear.

The story of Bartimaeus begins in Jericho. He was a blind beggar. That was his identity and his livelihood. Yet somehow, he knew who Jesus of Nazareth was. We are not told how he came to this spiritual sight, but there seems to be little doubt in his mind about Jesus’ identity. That is why he shouted, and kept shouting even when the crowd rebuked him, until Jesus called him personally.

It is also revealing that when Jesus called him, Bartimaeus threw his cloak aside and jumped to his feet. For a blind beggar, that cloak may have represented protection, security, and the old life he knew. Jesus does not have to tell him to leave it behind; Bartimaeus casts it aside before he even reaches him. And his jumping to his feet conveys joy, urgency, and confidence. Bartimaeus seems convinced that his encounter with Jesus will bring him what he needs.

Once Bartimaeus finally stands before Jesus, he is still asked the question: “What do you want me to do for you?” Again, it seems almost absurdly obvious. Jesus knows that Bartimaeus is blind. Everyone around them knows that Bartimaeus is blind. So why ask him to say it?

When we call on God and bring our desires before him, this is the question God asks each of us in return: “What do you want me to do for you?” The answer to this question is not a repetition of what we already asked God for. This is a highly revealing question. It is meant to expose my understanding of what I think is wrong with my life, what I think salvation looks like, and therefore what kind of God I believe Jesus is. 

The deeper existential question is something like: What do you believe would make you whole? And who exactly do you think I am?

The same question works very differently on James and John and on Bartimaeus.

James and John’s answer reveals their vision of the world: greatness means being elevated, being near power, occupying the places of honor. They believe in Jesus, but they are still imagining his kingdom according to the old world’s categories. Their answer tells us something about their understanding of glory, God, and themselves.

Bartimaeus does not ask for anything outside himself. His answer to Jesus is simple: “Rabbi, I want to see.” He asks for vision—for a change in his own ability to see and perceive. In a sense, he is asking for the physical ability to live out the spiritual sight he already seems to possess.

Jesus heals him with a command: “Go,” Jesus said, “your faith has healed you.” What is fascinating is that Bartimaeus does not simply go away. Instead, he “followed Jesus along the road.” And this road is not just any road; Jesus is on the road from Jericho toward Jerusalem, the road heading to Golgotha. 

Let’s go back to the story of James and John. When they ask to sit at Jesus’ right and left in his glory, Jesus responds: “You don’t know what you are asking. Can you drink the cup I drink or be baptized with the baptism I am baptized with?”

Here we are met with yet another question of God. Reading it today, we understand that he is speaking about his crucifixion and the suffering that will precede it. At first, the question can sound almost like an invitation to suffering. The disciples do not fully understand what Jesus means, hence their quick answer: “We can.” But we cannot miss the meaning in quite the same way, because we already know where Jesus is headed.

Jesus is headed toward suffering and death. This is what we understand when we read the question today. The idea that closeness to God means closeness to suffering has shaped much of Christian imagination throughout the centuries, and in some forms, it is still practiced today. But if we read Jesus’ question only as an invitation to suffer, we misunderstand it. Suffering in and of itself is not a path to holiness.

The question Jesus is asking is not simply, “Are you willing to suffer the suffering I endure?” It is much richer than that. Jesus asks, “Can you drink the cup I drink or be baptized with the baptism I am baptized with?” In this question, Jesus uses two important symbols: the cup and baptism. Both of these symbols point first to joy and participation rather than suffering. The symbol of the cup brings forth the image of the Last Supper: a cup full of wine shared among friends. It is a symbol of fellowship, service, participation, camaraderie, and joy. Baptism on the other hand, brings images of forgiveness, cleansing, starting over, inclusion, and joy. Baptism is also a fully immersive experience.

I am not trying to exclude suffering from the meaning of Jesus’ question. Suffering is part and parcel of what He is asking. I simply want us to notice that the symbols Jesus uses are much richer than suffering alone. But it is also important to ask why Jesus uses these particular symbols — the cup and baptism — to speak about His suffering.

Perhaps Jesus uses the symbols of the cup and baptism because He is not inviting the disciples into suffering as an isolated spiritual achievement. He is inviting them into the fullness of His life. Jesus says in John’s Gospel, “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” The cup and baptism are symbols of participation, fellowship, cleansing, belonging, and joy. But abundant life is not a sheltered life, detached from pain. To live abundantly is to live fully before God and others — to love, to remain present, to serve, to forgive, to grieve, and to refuse the safety of self-protection. Suffering is not the goal, but it is part of a life that refuses to run away from love.

To finish our story, after James and John boldly answer Jesus, “We can,” Jesus says to them, “You will drink the cup I drink and be baptized with the baptism I am baptized with, but to sit at my right or left is not for me to grant. These places belong to those for whom they have been prepared.”

Many readers of Mark have noticed the specific language Mark uses when speaking about Jesus’ right and left. We encounter this language again at the crucifixion. In Mark 15:27, Mark says Jesus is crucified with two rebels/bandits; one on His right and one on His left.

This is a moment where I would like to pause and introduce how a biblical passage can be read from both a religious and a spiritual point of view. A common religious reading of the thieves crucified alongside Jesus, especially when we read the scene through Luke’s account, emphasizes repentance and forgiveness. One thief repents, and Jesus tells him, “Today you will be with me in paradise,” while the other continues in mockery. From this point of view, we often assume that the repentant thief was forgiven, while the unrepentant one was condemned.

A spiritual reading of the same scene, however, can open the story to a different interpretation. These two thieves occupy the very positions James and John were vying for: one at His right and one at His left, in His glory. Two thieves got the coveted spots. And in Mark’s account, neither of them was repentant. Both of them participated in the mockery: “Those crucified with him also heaped insults on him.”

Even today, we still mistake what Jesus meant by glory for what we understand glory to be. We imagine the glory of God as something high above us: seated in heaven, sheltered from pain, suffering, and death. We imagine riches, ease, happiness, victory, and power. Like the disciples, we often assume that glory means elevation, status, and distance from vulnerability. Yet the glory of Jesus is far from this. In Mark’s story, Jesus’ glory is revealed on the cross. It is the glory of love that refuses to abandon others in their suffering. It does not run away from grief, shame, fear, weakness, or death.

So what do we want God to do for us? What does our answer reveal about us, about our desires, and about our understanding of God? Are we asking for status, comfort, and protection from pain, or are we asking for eyes to see the way of Jesus more clearly?

Can we drink the cup Jesus drank? Can we be baptized with the baptism He was baptized with? Can we participate in His abundant life — a life of fellowship, joy, service, and self-giving love — even when that love refuses to run away from grief, shame, fear, weakness, or death?

Anonymous: This is loaded, Michael. I find many details that I can wrap my mind around, but some things seem clear. First, I think about the question of James and John. Of course, they didn’t know what Jesus was going through, so they thought it was an easy request: “Just let us be in your glory,” and that’s all. But I have a different perspective on the cup and the baptism. Yes, they represent company, community, camaraderie, and all of that. But on top of that, the cup reminds me of the cup Jesus prayed about at the end, in Gethsemane, when He asked God to remove this cup from Him. It wasn’t easy for anyone to take, not even for the God of the universe, but He still wants us to drink it. Is that too harsh for us? No, because the results would be glorious. He was victorious over Satan, He drank the cup, and He entered into glory. That is what He wants for us as well. And of course, there is plenty of suffering, plenty of cups to drink, in this world.

Then there is baptism. Baptism is a symbol of death. Paul says that when we are baptized with Him, we go into the water as though we were buried, and then we rise to newness of life. That may be what Jesus meant when He told James and John, “Can you be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?” Perhaps He meant, “Can you go through death in order to reach the glory later?” It may be a spiritual death rather than a physical death. We all struggle to mortify our bodies and gain the spiritual victory we are looking for in our lives. Then we are not so worried about what afflicts the body, because the spiritual victory is so much more rewarding.

You don’t want to be stuck with the body, living a very regular, common, traditional life and thinking you’re doing okay, when in fact there is something inside that needs to be mortified. It is the burden of sin, the history of all the sins accumulated throughout our lives, the recognition of our emptiness and of how far we are from God. So now our concern becomes, “Lord, work on my soul. I don’t care so much about my body anymore. Give me that baptism. Give me that cup.” Yes, it is going to be painful, but this is the way to get to glory, to sit with Jesus on this side or that side.

And when He told them, “You can do that, but I can’t give those places except to the people for whom they have been assigned,” that takes me to Philippians—I think chapter one or two—where it says that from before the foundation of the earth, God assigned us for His glory, to proclaim His grace, which He showed us abundantly and clearly on the cross. Jesus is the embodiment of His grace and His glory. When we see Jesus on the cross forgiving our sins, that is the fulfillment of His promise. Now we are in the glory because we believe; we see His glory demonstrated on the cross in the forgiveness of sin, the abundance of His grace, and the abundant life.

That is how I see it. It is all planned. It is already done and in action from before the foundation of the earth. So we don’t have to worry about our salvation or the glory we are seeking; it is already written and assigned for us. If only we knew that, our whole lives would be different. We would experience the abundance of life, the abundant life.

Now, as for the blind man, Bartimaeus, he wanted a favor from Jesus. Everybody could see what it was: he was blind and he wanted to see. Jesus is always willing to give us what we ask, but His asking, “What do you want me to do for you?” has a much deeper meaning. What do we want Jesus to do? Do we want just the physical healing of blindness, or is it much deeper than that? If we want spiritual revival, then forget about blindness as merely a physical condition. It is also a symbol, and a very powerful symbol, of the fact that we don’t see the truth.

We want to see our spiritual condition and begin seeking healing for that situation—the one on the inside, the one only God can heal, the one that afflicts the soul rather than the body. If Bartimaeus had seen that clearly, perhaps he would not simply have asked, “Let me see.” But Jesus was already at work. He wanted to heal him, not just give him his sight back. He wanted to heal his soul as well. Praise God.

David: It is very interesting that, for once, Jesus actually gave us a resoundingly clear answer to that very question: “What do you want me to do for you?” The answer is, “Give us this day our daily bread,” “forgive us our trespasses,” and so on. So the answer is there, isn’t it?

Michael: David, just to clarify, do you mean that because Jesus taught us how to pray the “Our Father” prayer, He made the answer to this question clear? Is that what you mean?

David: Right. That’s exactly what I mean.

Anonymous: That would be a deeper and more powerful answer. Jesus reminds us that what you really need, blind man, is to ask for God’s will, to ask for forgiveness—everything that was mentioned in the Lord’s Prayer. I would say that He was drawing his attention to that. Instead of thinking only of his physical ailment, He was drawing his attention to what he truly needed: “Our Father, which art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name. Thy kingdom come,” and so on; “Give us this day our daily bread,” “Thy will be done,” “forgive us our sins,” and “lead us not into temptation.” This is what you need, blind man, to pray for. I would say that He was drawing his attention toward that deeper request.

Donald: This isn’t particularly insightful, but it is interesting to listen to this dialogue among you and ask yourself a question that perhaps you shouldn’t even have to ask, because you have the opportunity every day—and I presume all of us take that opportunity. But what would you say to Jesus if He asked you, “What would you like me to do for you?” I think most of us would pause for a minute before we simply started talking.

Yet every day we start in with our prayers as if this is simply what we do. We don’t necessarily think about it at the level of really communicating with our Father, or of perhaps having only one opportunity to communicate with our Father. Maybe that’s what I’m thinking about. If you could communicate with Christ or God only once, what would you say? Would your prayer be about yourself, or about your relationship with God? Because we have the opportunity to talk to God daily and perpetually, perhaps it becomes more of a daily routine rather than a momentous moment.

Here you are reading about two momentous moments in the Bible in which people are physically alongside Christ and speaking with Him. Would that proximity make a difference? If you actually stood in front of Jesus and He said, “Okay, you’ve got a few minutes to talk. What would your prayer include?” would it be the same prayer that you pray every day? I don’t know. I need to think about that.

Anonymous: I thought about that, Donald, and physical closeness to God doesn’t always mean a great deal. Think of the two thieves on the cross. They were very, very close to Him, yet one did not see the whole picture, and the other, without repentance, would have failed as well. Something has to happen in the heart, like the repentance of the other thief, to make life meaningful. It isn’t simply closeness.

People go to church. People try to pray and read and get closer to God, and they find some comfort in that. But what really happened in the heart of the other thief may be something they miss for a lifetime. They may fail to get there, thinking, “That’s all we have to do. What else is there? Do I have to remember all my sins in the past and repent? Do I have to ask God to keep me a place in His kingdom?” It isn’t physical proximity. Something deeper has to happen in the heart that takes you from traditional Christianity to something meaningful, and then you have trust—full trust.

If we ask, “Lord, take me to Your kingdom,” or “Give me a place in Your kingdom”—I’ve forgotten exactly how the good thief put it—then Jesus can confidently say, “Today you’re going to be with Me.” As soon as something happened inside him, he could receive the promise: “You’ll be with Me in My kingdom.” He might be saying, “Today I tell you,” or He might be saying that as soon as the thief repented, “You are with Me already.” That is what we need to recognize in our own lives. There comes a very important point, a turning point. That is how I see it.

Donald: Anon, I think the point I was hoping to express really was about proximity. I know that I have had some wonderful moments face-to-face, side-by-side with Carolyn, but right now I see Carolyn’s name. I don’t even see her face. There is something that becomes much more personal when we are actually together. We long for the day when we can be together, and I think that would also be true of being with our Creator.

I do think proximity changes things. I can see how you respond to what I say by looking into your eyes and seeing the expression on your face. I’m not suggesting that one kind of relationship is lesser than the other. I’m simply saying that one seems more immediate and meaningful. If you never saw someone and yet had a relationship with that person, is that different from having the opportunity to be together? If we long for the day when we will sit at the side of God, that is understandable, because at that time we will be within His glory. It is hard to imagine, even hard to consider, but I know from human relationships that there is a difference between not seeing someone, seeing someone here this morning, and merely seeing someone’s name on the screen. They are different types of relationships. If every one of us had only a name up here, would it be the same class as having a few faces and a few names, or all of us being face-to-face? I think there’s a hymn about that.

Don: Donald, I’d like to ask you the question: What should we ask for? Not necessarily what would we ask for, because I think what I would ask for is somehow to harness the power of God on my behalf.

Donald: Exactly.

Don: That’s what John and James asked for. That’s what the blind man asked for: “Give me Your power so that I can see, so that I can be glorified, so that I can be elevated.” But maybe a better question would be: What should I ask for?

Donald: I would agree, and I think that’s where David was going. We were given a prayer, and there it is. So perhaps we should examine that prayer in this context. The prayer doesn’t simply start out, “Thank You for a wonderful day, and please be with my loved ones and with these people who are hurting,” and so on and so forth. It begins by acknowledging who God is. It sets the stage for the relationship between the one praying and the One being prayed to. What do you think, Dave? I think that’s what you were suggesting.

David: Well, it’s interesting. The Lord’s Prayer is almost an answer to the question, “What do you want while you’re here on Earth?” I’m not sure it answers the question of what you want in eternity. But this whole notion that you end up sitting on either side of God or Jesus suggests that when you go to heaven, that’s it. You’ve arrived. Period. And for all the rest of eternity, you’re going to sit there basking in the glory of God. Who knows? We haven’t a clue what is going to happen then.

But there is a very ancient theory called epektasis, a Greek word that means something like longing for, yearning for, or striving toward. It describes what we do as we get closer to God: we sense wonderful things, a sense of awe and joy. And the theory of epektasis basically says—

Don: David froze. At least, he froze on my screen.

Michael: I see Anon’s point, but I thought, from the interpretation of where the glory of Jesus was, that His glory was the cross rather than the resurrection. That may be something difficult to think about or understand: that the glory was the cross. At least, that seems to be how Mark uses this imagery of one on the left and one on the right.

Anonymous: Think about the two thieves. One is repentant. He didn’t ask for glory. He basically said, “Make room for me in Your kingdom.” Thinking about it, he isn’t seeking glory; he is seeking the kingdom of God.

So my understanding of these two words is that glory is already, as we said, the glory of Jesus on the cross and what He did there, but the kingdom of heaven is something different. Glory is not something to come in the future. It is not something we ask for, thinking that glory means eternal life or that when we die we get to glory. That isn’t my understanding of glory, because the thief asked for the kingdom of God, and Jesus said the kingdom of God is in you. So it isn’t simply something we look forward to; it is in us. It is continuous. We live in the glory, in the kingdom of God, just as He taught us to pray, “Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done.”

So we are looking for this kingdom of God to be revealed in us. Jesus said it is in us, and we want it to be revealed by the style of our lives, by faith, and by surrendering to God’s will: “Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done.”

Don: But the kind of kingdom that Jesus has is not the kind of kingdom I’m interested in. I don’t want to go to the back of the line. I don’t want to turn the other cheek. And if somebody asks for my coat, I don’t want to give him my cloak as well. That’s not the kind of kingdom I’m looking for. I’m looking for the kingdom of James and John, where I can sit at the right or left hand of God.

Anonymous: Doesn’t everybody wish for that? But that’s not what Jesus had in mind. We have to be at the end of the line in order to demonstrate what it means to be in the kingdom here on Earth. We have to reflect His image. We have to live satisfied with His work in our hearts, giving us the kingdom of God every single day.

That is beautiful. I really don’t want the glory, because it is guaranteed anyway, and it doesn’t mean being physically close to Him in the same place in heaven. What matters is the kingdom of God in me.

Reinhard: Jesus talks about the kingdom of God being among you, and He is talking about Himself. Jesus represents the Father, and I think the glory is in Jesus. That’s the kingdom of God. We’re talking about the spiritual life, about living in God. When we are close to Jesus, close to God, I think we have peace. I think that’s what Jesus meant when He said the kingdom of God is among you. When we have Him, when we have peace in Him, that is part of what will happen in the future kingdom. I think it is already being shown through Jesus—through His teaching about the fruit of the Spirit: goodness, kindness, and everything else. I think Jesus wants to tell us that the kingdom of God comes through Him. Only through Jesus can we receive that.

But I’d like to go back to Michael’s presentation. Of course, in the account in Matthew, I think, the mother of John and James is mentioned, but that doesn’t change the purpose of the story. I believe we see Jesus still molding them, still forming their faith. They don’t really realize what they’re asking. When we see the story of the disciples after Jesus returned to heaven, they understand much more clearly their responsibility as disciples to bring the gospel to other people.

Toward the end of this passage, Jesus talks about what it means to be the greatest: you have to be the servant. John and James want to be first, to show that they are important among the disciples. That is why the other disciples feel indignant about what they propose to Jesus. I think the human nature of these disciples has not yet really been formed. In other words, they don’t really know what they’re asking. Jesus says, “Can you go through all these things?” Of course, they finally did go through them, but this is still part of the process of molding them to become true disciples of Jesus later in their lives.

As far as Bartimaeus is concerned, think about what happens when Jesus heals people in the New Testament. Most of the people Jesus heals call out, “Son of David, have mercy.” If we look at Luke 5, when the paralyzed man was lowered through the roof, Jesus talks about faith and forgiveness: through that faith, your sins are forgiven. There seems to be a prerequisite before Jesus heals these people: they must have faith in Jesus. Most of the people Jesus heals demonstrate their faith by crying, “Son of David, have mercy on us.” That means they have faith in Jesus, and with that faith, Jesus performs the healing.

So when we call to Jesus, when we bring ourselves to Jesus and believe that He is the Son of God, I think that is connected with our sins being forgiven and with healing. We already know all these stories, of course, but there is a good lesson here. We don’t have to do anything except ask and put our lives in Jesus. Just like these people who cried, “Son of David, have mercy on us,” they were truthful in their hearts. They knew that Jesus was the Son of God and that He could heal them.

Most of the healings are like that, except perhaps the man Jesus healed at the pool of Bethesda. I think Jesus simply had pity on him after thirty-eight years, but Jesus also reminded him, “Go and sin no more.” We also see the woman with the bleeding: “If I touch His cloak”—that shows her faith in Jesus. So again, faith in Jesus is the requirement, and He takes care of everything. Sin is forgiven, and then the healing takes place. That is the lesson I take from what Michael presented today.

Donald: I think an interesting point you began with, Reinhard, is the idea that Christ was forming the disciples. It was a process of educating them as to who they were, what their role was, and what their role would become. It didn’t happen overnight. The first thing they had to do was have faith: “Drop your nets. Come follow Me.” Without faith, not much more can happen.

I’m thinking about Christ saying that you come as a child. A child has faith in his or her parents. Without faith in the parents, that relationship is fundamentally different. You see it all the time. You go into a community and see a child holding a parent’s hand. That is a symbol of faith and direction. But that is the beginning. You don’t have the same expectations of that child when the child is fifteen, or thirty, or when they’re our age—some of our ages.

So it’s a progression. As long as we don’t remain children in our relationship with Christ, it’s okay to go through the steps. In fact, it’s appropriate to go through the steps, because the first step is faith.

Reinhard: I agree, Donald. It is a process. I think Jesus is molding them, as we see in this story and in the previous account. Remember, Jesus was walking from Jericho to Jerusalem, and He told them that He would be crucified and that on the third day He would be raised. Yet when we get to the story of the resurrection, even the disciples didn’t realize what had happened after three days, when Jesus came out of the tomb. Even Mary didn’t understand at first. We talked about that last week.

The process is still going on. We can see that the disciples don’t really understand Jesus’ purpose or what He is going to do. I think they become more complete after the day of Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit comes. Then they are fully equipped for what God wants them to do. By then, they realize that there is no longer any question about who is going to be greater, or who will sit on the right or the left. That doesn’t matter. That isn’t the issue. The issue is salvation and faith, and that is what Jesus wants them to spread to other people. That is the commission Jesus gave them. I think that’s the key to this conversation we’re having.

Don: It’s interesting that this encounter takes place on the road between Jericho and Jerusalem, which is the same road on which the story of the Good Samaritan takes place. It suggests that on the road of life, what is really required is to be a good Samaritan more than it is to covet the glory of God.

Michael: David, you didn’t get to finish your point. We’d love to hear what you were saying. You were talking about the word epektasis?

David: Yes. I was talking about epektasis, a Greek word meaning to strive toward, to long for. It is commonly assumed that we arrive in heaven and that’s it: we then sit there and bask in glory forever and ever. But there is a different theory, epektasis, apparently embraced by the Orthodox traditions, of heaven as a place of yearning and learning, of getting ever closer to God and experiencing the wonder and joy of that.

So it is a wonderful place of constant discovery of the wonders and glory of God, while never actually “getting there.”

Don: Michael has provoked us to good thinking again, as usual, and we really appreciate it.

Michael: I’m very happy that it started this discussion. These questions have been more revealing than I thought they would be. They are hard questions, definitely not surface-level questions, and they require quite a bit of thought and an attempt to understand why God is asking these questions and what their purpose is.

They have been more revealing and thought-provoking than I imagined they would be, so I’m very happy that we’re doing them.

Don: A reminder that we won’t have class next week, but we’ll pick it up again the following week.

* * *