CHAPTER 29
Matthew 20:17–34
LISTEN to the Story
17Now Jesus was going up to Jerusalem. On the way, he took the Twelve aside and said to them, 18“We are going up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be delivered over to the chief priests and the teachers of the law. They will condemn him to death 19and will hand him over to the Gentiles to be mocked and flogged and crucified. On the third day he will be raised to life!”
20Then the mother of Zebedee’s sons came to Jesus with her sons and, kneeling down, asked a favor of him.
21“What is it you want?” he asked.
She said, “Grant that one of these two sons of mine may sit at your right and the other at your left in your kingdom.”
22“You don’t know what you are asking,” Jesus said to them. “Can you drink the cup I am going to drink?”
“We can,” they answered.
23Jesus said to them, “You will indeed drink from my cup, 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 by my Father.”
24When the ten heard about this, they were indignant with the two brothers. 25Jesus called them together and said, “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their high officials exercise authority over them. 26Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, 27and whoever wants to be first must be your slave—28just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”
29As Jesus and his disciples were leaving Jericho, a large crowd followed him. 30Two blind men were sitting by the roadside, and when they heard that Jesus was going by, they shouted, “Lord, Son of David, have mercy on us!”
31The crowd rebuked them and told them to be quiet, but they shouted all the louder, “Lord, Son of David, have mercy on us!”
32Jesus stopped and called them. “What do you want me to do for you?” he asked.
33“Lord,” they answered, “we want our sight.”
34Jesus had compassion on them and touched their eyes. Immediately they received their sight and followed him.
Listening to the Text in the Story: Exodus 30:12; Psalm 49:7–9; 2 Samuel 7:12–13; 1 Kings 1:15–17; Isaiah 29:18; 35:4–5; 51:17–52:10, 13–15; 53:3–12; Jeremiah 25:15–18, 27–29; 49:12.
The road up to Jerusalem was steep. A fifteen-mile stretch from Jericho in the valley to Jerusalem in the Judean mountains was no easy trek. In fact, to go from one of the lowest places on earth (Jericho was about 846 feet below sea level), climbing a mountainous road, ascending thirty-five hundred feet to Jerusalem1 would have taken all day. Of course, these pilgrims making the arduous climb to the holy city would have greeted the trip with light-hearted optimism. They were traveling with a man who would be their Messiah, the one who would ascend to David’s throne and bring God’s justice to Israel and the whole world. A buzz of excitement was running through the crowd—the reports of Jesus’s company reached even the ears of two blind men begging by the side of the road.2 It was an optimum time for begging, what with all the Passover pilgrims heading for Jerusalem to remember the story of Israel’s exodus when God redeemed his people from Egyptian slavery. To sit by the road looking for alms from this festive crowd was an opportunistic move. People give more during holidays; celebration inspires generosity among those who give to the less fortunate. (The Salvation Army is equally wise to this impulse.) So, just about everyone that day—the crowd of pilgrims as well as those begging for alms—was hopeful, wistful, anticipating a bright future. This was going to be a good day! Climbing the road to Jerusalem never felt better. Sure, legs would ache and winded pilgrims would have to rest for brief spells along the way. But, their hearts couldn’t have been lighter. They were headed to Jerusalem to see all the promises of God come true, when the messianic glory of his kingdom would come to earth, resplendent in power and honor.
It is rather ironic that while Jesus ascended the mountain to claim David’s throne, he spoke of a messianic path of descent, of stooping so low that he would be “mocked and flogged and crucified” (Matt 20:19). Everyone’s going up, while Jesus is anticipating heading down. But no one else saw the precipitous fall coming even though this was the third time Jesus predicted his demise in Jerusalem. Even the disciples expected to rise to dizzying heights when the kingdom of heaven invaded the holy city. Who can blame them? Jesus had recently promised that they would sit on twelve thrones and judge all of Israel once the Messiah took over Jerusalem and ascended to David’s throne (19:28). That must have encouraged the mother of James and John to put in a bid for her sons to have the highest places of honor in Jesus’s kingdom (20:20–21). Yet I wonder if Jesus was a little disappointed by her request. After all, he had just told his disciples that he’s going to be tortured and killed once they get to Jerusalem (vv. 17–19). Then, mom shows up and throws herself down before Jesus, preventing him from going any farther.3 What does she want (v. 21)? Maybe to try to talk Jesus out of going to Jerusalem, like any concerned mother would. “Please don’t go, Jesus. My boys just told me4 that you said the Romans—God’s curse be upon them!—are going to kill you when you get there. Oh, no! What a horrible tragedy. Please don’t go. If that’s what they’re going to do, why would you still want to go? Think of your mother. It will break her heart. Think of my boys—if they kill you, then they’ll go after my sons for sure. Please, I beg you, don’t go.” But that’s not what she wanted, even though she looked like she was getting ready to beg for something. Instead, she was hoping to see her boys get the best seats in the house of David (v. 21)—much to the chagrin of the other ten (v. 24).
It’s as if everyone was blind to the messianic mission of Jesus. The Twelve didn’t see it. The crowd of pilgrims was oblivious to it. For Jesus, that must have made for a lonely climb. Heading up the mountain to Jerusalem, surrounded by people celebrating, and Jesus—alone with his thoughts—knowing that every step brings him closer to his torturous death. We don’t know what happened along the way. Matthew gives us no details about the journey, skipping from the healing of the blind men outside Jericho to the story of Jesus entering Jerusalem. Yet I cannot help but wonder if Jesus hoped that someone, anyone, would see what lay ahead. A moment of clarity for one of the Twelve. A sullen face or two among the multitude. But no one saw it. Jesus faced his future alone in a crowd of people. It’s a holiday, and he’s going to die.
EXPLAIN the Story
Jesus wasn’t looking for sympathy when he predicted his death the third time (Matt 20:17–19). He was trying to prepare his disciples for the way of the kingdom: a cross before a crown, humility leading to glory, not to be served but to serve. This was the road he would take, and all disciples would follow him. It was a hard path to accept, a narrow gate to enter. But it’s one that Jesus had been teaching his disciples about from the beginning (7:13–14). He had already warned them about bringing a cross to Jerusalem, to be prepared to lose their life to find it (16:24–25). The closer they got to the holy city, the more he talked about it. Yes, he also spoke of rewards and thrones (16:27; 19:28–29). But the way his disciples would share in the glory of his throne would require a completely different road to power. In fact, ever since he announced their departure for Jerusalem (16:21), Jesus tried to disabuse his disciples of thinking that his kingdom would rely upon conventional methods of ruling the world. He told a parable about the last becoming first (20:1–16). Twice he compared his kingdom to children (18:2–5; 19:13–15), trying to get his disciples to see that “the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these” (19:14). So, when ten of his disciples were indignant over James and John jockeying for pride of position in Jesus’s kingdom (20:24), he had to huddle up the Twelve and tell them once again what it would take to rule the world—for him and for them.
Rule like Slaves
“You don’t know what you are asking” (Matt 20:22). If Jesus were to say that to me, it would make me think twice about my request, especially if he followed up with the question, “Can you drink the cup I am going to drink?” If I were James or John, I would have pulled my brother aside to discuss the matter. “What do you think he means by that? What cup is he talking about? It sounds like a setup. Yet we know better than that. Jesus doesn’t play mind games with us. So, what do you suppose he means, questioning our ability to drink the cup? Is he talking about raising a toast of victory after the battle for Jerusalem? Is he questioning our resolve to give up our lives for the kingdom?5 Or, is he wondering whether we will even make it to the end?” But James and John act like they know exactly what Jesus was referring to when he spoke of drinking from his cup. Without flinching they shot back, “We can” (v. 22). And so Jesus didn’t hesitate when he said (in a very ominous tone, perhaps), “You will indeed drink from my cup. . .” (v. 23). For indeed they did. His disciples would drink from the same cup of the new covenant (26:27–28)—a cup of suffering6—even though Jesus would pray later for God to take it away from him (v. 39). I imagine James and John thinking to themselves after the Lord’s Supper, “See? That wasn’t so bad. We knew we could do it. We kept our word.” But truly they didn’t know what they were asking, especially the part about reigning with Jesus—one on his right, the other at his left—when he comes into his kingdom.7
The prophets warned Israel about having to drink the cup of God’s wrath.8 According to Jeremiah, God handed him the cup of his wrath, directing the prophet to force it down the throats of all the nations who disobeyed him—starting with Judah (Jer 25:15–18). Jerusalem too would soon suffer disaster as a result of sin (vv. 27–29). The difference with Jesus, of course, was his willingness to take the cup and drink it himself, not only for Israel’s sake but for the whole world. Unlike Jeremiah, Jesus would force it on nobody. He knew he was destined to drink the cup even though he didn’t want to (Matt 26:39). So, when James and John agreed (somewhat impetuously) to drink the cup, they should have known what this would mean. They had agreed to suffer the consequences of Israel’s sin, to drink the cup of God’s wrath down to the dregs. Disaster would fall upon them; like the servant of the Lord (Isa 53:3–12), they would be despised and rejected by mankind—the scapegoat of Israel’s disobedience. Jesus would be the first to drink the cup, but he knew his disciples would follow him one day (Matt 20:23). Yet when it came to promising James and John that they would sit at his right and left when he came into his kingdom, Jesus was reticent to say. In fact, Jesus said it wasn’t his decision. God had already prepared those who would occupy such significant positions (v. 23). As it turned out, when the time came James and John were nowhere to be found. When Jesus drank from the cup and was hailed the “king of Israel,” the disciples proved that they really didn’t know what they were asking. Instead, two rebels were at his side—one on the right, the other on his left—when Jesus came into his kingdom, wearing a crown and bearing a cross, just as he predicted (16:21–24; 17:22–23; 20:28; 26:28; 27:28–44).9
In light of what happened to Jesus when he “reigned” in Jerusalem as the king of Israel—no one saw it coming except Jesus—the ten probably later came to regret their indignation against James and John (20:24). It was one of those if-only-we-knew-then-what-we-know-now moments, one that the Twelve probably recalled with shame as they reflected on what Jesus told them that day (vv. 25–28). The way the gentiles rule the world with irrepressible power and authority is not the way Jesus and his disciples would rule Israel and the nations. Worldly rule is all about power, officials lording it over their subjects. In Jesus’s kingdom, it’s all about giving power away. It’s service; it’s slavery. This is an eternal kingdom—the greatest of all rule and authority—because it never fades away. Why? Worldly rulers eventually lose power. Slaves of the kingdom of Jesus, however, will always serve. The world always needs slaves. So, Jesus’s disciples will always have a job; we will always reign through service. That’s why servants and slaves of Jesus never fear of losing power because we are always giving it away. This is what it means to be great: the first to become a slave rules the world. Jesus proved it. He came not to be served like a king of this world but to rule forever as a slave by paying a king’s ransom—his very life (v. 28). This is the way he rules the world, by giving his life away; and so it is with his disciples. But sometimes it’s hard to see it.
See like Blind Men
Matthew has paired these stories together, intending for us to draw comparisons and contrasts.10 Along the way, two disciples asked for seats of honor in his kingdom (Matt 20:21). Beside the way, two blind men begged for mercy from the king (v. 30). Ten disciples stood in silence, indignant over the request (v. 24). The crowd tried to silence the two blind men despite their persistent request (v. 31). Jesus asked his disciples, “What is it you want?” (v. 21). Jesus asked the blind men, “What do you want me to do for you?” (v. 32). What the disciples wanted from Jesus is surprising. No one was surprised by what the blind men wanted. Yet what if we were to switch their responses? What if the blind men sounded like James and John, and these two disciples of Jesus made the same request as the blind men? How strange it would sound to our ears to hear the blind men answer Jesus’s question, “What do you want me to do for you?” with, “Grant that we may sit at your right and the other at your left in your kingdom.” How audacious! Nothing but a power grab. Think of how refreshing it would have been to hear James and John say to Jesus, “Lord, we want to see,” especially in light of Jesus’s teaching that his disciples would follow him down the messianic path of suffering. But that’s not what happened. James and John asked for what they thought they deserved. The two blind men only asked for what sighted people take for granted every day. And there’s the difference between the kingdom of this world and the kingdom of heaven coming to earth. Those who think they see want power; those who know they are blind need Jesus.
The annual pilgrimage of Passover visitors must have been a sight to behold for the people of Jericho. Nearly all travelers passed through Jericho on their way to Jerusalem to celebrate the great festival of God’s deliverance of his people. The “Jericho Road,” as it has come to be known, was one of the most traveled ways to the holy city. The parade of people singing and dancing, wine flowing freely—these joyful pilgrims brought a carnival-like atmosphere to Jericho, the last stop on the road to Jerusalem. Furthermore, knowing that Jesus was among the merry celebrants must have pumped up the crowd of revelers like never before. So when two blind men tried to stop the parade with their incessant begging, crying out loud to get Jesus’s attention, several in the crowd took matters into their own hands. They must have thought, “We don’t have time for this. We’re headed for Jerusalem. We’ve been walking for miles and we’re almost there. The Messiah is going to take care of business when he gets to Jerusalem, and we can’t wait to see it! So, let’s keep moving. A long day’s trip is ahead of us. Somebody shut those fools up.” Yet the more the crowd tried to silence the blind men, the more the beggars cried out to Jesus (v. 31). That’s just what we would expect from obnoxious people. (I say that sarcastically.) The more you try to put them in their place, the more of a nuisance they become. And yet, it seems like the blind men were the only ones on the Jericho road that day who knew this would be their last chance to see Jesus. So, they took it. Nothing and no one was going to stop them now.
I’m so glad Jesus decided to stop the parade for these two blind men. If there were ever a time Jesus could have “begged off” serving others, it was then. Alone with his thoughts, knowing what he was about to face when he arrived to Jerusalem—such a singular focus should have compelled him to walk the Jericho road with tunnel vision. But he didn’t. Instead, even though his heart could have been heavy with the grief of his upcoming passion, Jesus heard the cries of desperate men, begging at the side of the road. Above the shouts of the disapproving crowd, beyond the noisy celebration of these Passover pilgrims, Jesus always hears those who cry out for his mercy. Indeed, Jesus said he not only came to “give his life as a ransom for many,” but he also came to serve (v. 28). This story is a perfect example of what he meant. When he looked into the eyes of these two blind men and asked, “What do you want me to do for you?” his question may have appeared to those standing around as cruel and insensitive. What else would a blind man want except to see? Well, with such an open-ended question coming from such a powerful man, a shrewd beggar might take the opportunity to try to cash the blank check. “Make me wealthy beyond my wildest dreams,” or “Give me eternal life,” or “Grant that I may sit at your right hand when you come into your kingdom.” Yet the only thing a blind man wants is what a blind man needs: to see. That’s why Jesus “had compassion on them and touched their eyes” (v. 34).11 He always had his ears open to the lost sheep who cried for help. It’s not surprising, then, that these two who “once were lost but now they are found, who once were blind but now they see” followed Jesus to Jerusalem.12 For there they would see their shepherd lead his flock to evergreen pastures, the king coming into his eternal kingdom—the “first” to become a slave.
LIVE the Story
As I write these words, the Supreme Court of the United States is hearing a case about the rights of gay people to marry. Many people are anxious about the outcome, not only those hoping to marry regardless of their residence but also those who have been fighting the culture war in America. The politics of this revolutionary decision has turned a complex issue into a black-and-white reality—which is what typically happens in politics. Regardless of the issue—no matter how complicated the matter—political discourse quickly turns into an “us-versus-them” debate. There’s no room for nuance, no patience for careful discussion. Everyone is forced to decide. You’re either on one side or the other. To pursue a third way, to explore a path where neither side wins, to consider another approach to social issues—these efforts are often dismissed as coming from weak-kneed, spineless cowards. “You need to take a stand!” Shouting down all other voices, each side ratchets up the rhetoric, hoping to win the war of words. Of course, more than public opinion is at stake. The stakes are much higher than that. Indeed, when it comes to power, everyone wants a piece of the action, each side making superior claims of what is right and what is wrong.
When these battles are played out in public, I often listen for the voices that have been silenced, those on the margins who have opinions and stories and ideas that can’t be forced into the mold of either/or politics. For example, there are gay Christians who do not believe that homoerotic behavior, under any circumstances, glorifies God. They didn’t choose to be gay. It’s all they’ve known. The first time they began to be sexually attracted to others, it was a person of the same sex. Yet their same-sex attraction doesn’t define them; there is so much more to life than being gay. They are disciples of Jesus.13 When it comes to curbing the desires of the flesh, they know they can’t “pray the gay away.” But, they also believe that a man having sex with a man or a woman having sex with a woman is a sin against God. Yet neither side in the fight over gay marriage wants to hear their story—neither Christians fighting the culture war nor the LGBT community. Why not? It’s because their narrative doesn’t fit into the mold of either political agenda. The LGBT community patronizes these gay Christians, telling them that they’re deceived, that they’ve been duped by their religious upbringing. How arrogant. Moreover, many Christians who are fighting against marriage equality refuse to admit that there are gay Christians. How ignorant. Here is an important voice that has been marginalized in the politics of marriage. I can’t help but wonder what Jesus would think, because there are people on both sides of this issue who are convinced that he would be on their side—one on the right, the other on the left. I’m not so sure. Here’s why.
Jesus constantly tried to teach his disciples that following him means giving away your rights. “You know that the rulers of the gentiles lord it over them, and their high officials exercise authority over them. Not so with you” (Matt 20:25–26). Christians who once prized holding the political power of a “moral majority” in America are finally going to learn the significance of Jesus’s words. It’s about time we admit it. We lost the culture war. (I’m not grieving because I never believed in it.) In fact, I think it may be the best thing that ever happened to Christianity in the United States—to finally be in the minority, to learn a little humility, to learn how to admit we have enemies (we’ve made many during the culture wars), and then learn how to love them as God loves us, to be at the right and left of Jesus in his kingdom (sacrifice!). No more talk of protecting our rights. Why not give away our power for the sake of the king who gave away his power to save us? Furthermore, there are gay Christians who believe the same. They are convinced that following Jesus means giving up their rights, sacrificing themselves for a politic much higher than the kingdom of this world. They’ve had to suffer the “shame” of belonging to Jesus in a Christian subculture that made same-sex attraction the unpardonable sin. Ostracized like blind men forgotten on the side of the road while the pious sang their song, “Come we that love the Lord, and let our joys be known,” they were never invited to “join in the song of sweet accord.” For all the years I attended church, I heard many Christians find support and encouragement in their desire to crucify the flesh with all its passions and desires. But not once did I see a gay Christian have the freedom to share his burden with the body of Christ. It grieves me now to think about how lonely that must feel. Silenced by the joyous pilgrims “marching for Zion,” we left them at the side of the road.
But, thank God, Jesus always hears the voices of those on the margins, persons who have been silenced by the crowd. Moreover, I’m so glad when Jesus asks the same question today, “What do you want me to do for you?” Although dismissed by the crowd as insensitive and foolish, it is still answered the same way by Christ followers, whether gay or straight: “I want to see.”
1. Turner, Matthew, 491.
2. Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:107.
3. Keener thinks Matthew introduces the mother as the questioner because women in first-century Jewish life could make requests that would be shameful for men to ask (Matthew, 485).
4. Garland, Reading Matthew, 212.
5. Nolland doesn’t think so (Matthew, 821).
6. Davies and Allison call it “the cup of eschatological sorrow” (Matthew, 3:90).
7. France wonders whether James and John were trying to usurp Peter’s position (Matthew, 758).
8. See the discussion in Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:89–90.
9. Keener, Matthew, 486; Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:100.
10. Davies and Allison, Matthew, 3:101, 110.
11. Luz writes: “With the last of many healings of the blind [Matthew] calls attention once again to the great light that ‘the people who sat in darkness’ saw (4:16)” (Matthew, 2:550).
12. Bruner, Matthew, 2:349.
13. See the compelling story of Wesley Hill, Washed and Waiting: Reflections on Christian Faithfulness and Homosexuality (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2010), especially 123–50. (Thank you, Wesley, for your honest reflections and unflinching desire to be faithful to our Lord. You are a rare gift to the church.)