Mark 10:35-45
It would be easy to judge the disciples, James and John, in our reading for today. It would be easy to make fun of them for their complete misunderstanding about Jesus. It would be easy and it would distance us from identifying with their confusion about what following Jesus really entails - that is sacrifice, not glory - serving others, not ruling over them - giving up one's life, not holding on to it.

I see them, James and John, almost like excited children, running up to Jesus and telling him "Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you." The text tells us Jesus said, "What is it you want me to do for you?" Here I stop and wonder how Jesus said that . . . was it with exasperation? "What is it you want me to do for you?" Was it with anger? "What is it you want me to do for you?" Was it with eager anticipation of what they might want? "What is it you want me to do for you?" Was it with loving patience? "What is it you want me to do for you?"

We don't know. But we do know what they ask is to share in Jesus' glory, to be given special honors, to sit at his right side and left side, to be close to Jesus, closer to him than the other 10 disciples. (Who do not take kindly to this request, by the way!)

They think they know what they are asking, they think they are ready and able to follow Jesus through the difficult days ahead of suffering and rejection.

Here's how the rest of the conversation went: (it's helpful to know that the references to drinking the cup and baptism are symbols of Jesus' suffering and death.)

But Jesus said to them, "You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?" They replied, "We are able." Then Jesus said to them, "The cup that I drink you will drink; and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized; but to sit at my right hand or at my left is not mine to grant, but it is for those for whom it has been prepared."

We sang the hymn every year on Youth Sunday. We sang it with youthful earnest hearts and strong voices. We sang it, having no idea what it really meant."Are ye able?" said the Master, to be crucified with me? James and John would have joined in the chorus with us, "Yea" the sturdy dreamers answered, to the death we follow thee." Lord, we are able, our spirits are thine, remold them make us, like thee divine."

Our scripture for today is ultimately about saying, "Lord we are able." We are able to give up, able to be servants, able to pursue the greatness that comes through sacrifice. And it is about letting go. Are ye able? Lord we are able!

When James and John run up to Jesus and ask him to do whatever they want, I laugh, until I admit that I can often do the same thing - sometimes overtly, like James and John, but often much more subtly, as I try to be the one in control, as I try to manage things best left to God.

You know what I mean, don't you? I hope I am not alone in my struggle to have courage to let God be God. Sounds like a great idea, doesn't it? Let God be God. Makes sense. Seems obvious. Turns out to be very hard to do . . . at least for some of us.

I'm always ashamed of myself when, usually in the midst of crisis and difficulty, I find myself praying in embarrassing ways. I bargain, I beg, I make promises. O God, if you will just let this plane land safely, I'll give more of my time and money away. O God, if you let Ralph survive this surgery, I'll be a better partner to him. I can't believe I am telling you this. But, admit it, some time you've prayed these same types of prayers too, haven't you?

Behind these prayers is the belief that we can actually control situations, that we can control God, and underneath any need we each have to take control of things is the issue of trust. Do we really trust God's love for us, God's promise to always be with us, God's faithfulness? It's hard to trust, and so we worry. And worry is our proof that we are not trusting.

Frederick Buechner tells of a time when he was terribly depressed and driving his car. He parked by the roadside to pray, a car appeared and passed him. The license plate said TRUST. He says, "What do you call a moment like that? Something to laugh off like the kind of joke life plays on us every once in a while? The Word of God? I am willing to believe it is something of both but for me it was an epiphany."

The owner of the car turned out to work for a bank as a trust officer. After the driver read an account of the story he sent Buechner his own license plate. It sits on Buechner's shelf, and as he says "it is a little rusty around the edges but as holy a relic as I have seen." Trust alone is not always easy. We all want that sign. We all want our own license plate. After all to trust God is to throw caution to the wind. To leave ourselves open, to be vulnerable.

It's hard to do this trusting, this giving up of control. We want to give Jesus laundry lists and job jars. Max Lucado says, "Our tendency is to make God's decision for him. Don't go to God with options and expect him to choose one of your preferences. Go to him with empty hands - no hidden agendas, no crossed fingers, nothing behind your back."

I believe it takes practice to have the courage to let God be God. I believe it takes intentional effort to find the courage to trust in God's love. And for some of us, I believe it is a daily effort to let go. It takes practice.

Here's one way to think about what this is like, learning to let go and trust. I remember learning to ride a bike when I was a kid. I needed the training wheels at first to get the feel of riding a two wheeler. I needed the training wheels to keep me from falling. But after a while, you get the feeling that you are not really riding the bike. Not really letting go. So my dad took the training wheels off. It was a scary and exciting thing. But then, riding for the first time, without falling was an incredible feeling - it was as if there was some force within me, greater than me. Do you remember that feeling? It is a feeling of freedom and power and joy, because we learned to let go, to trust. (concept from a sermon by Jeff Vamos.)

Anyone in recovery from an addiction can tell you about the struggle in learning to let go. It's a foundational skill in the 12-step program. It's a foundational skill in living a joyful Christian life.

I heard about a method some folks in AA use to work on learning to let go and trust God. They make something called a God Box. It's a symbol for giving people and situations to God and letting go of trying to control everyone and everything. You write the situation you want to entrust to God on a piece of paper and put it in the God Box. No taking it back. One person decorated the outside of her God Box with this poem:

Letting go. Trusting a Higher Power. Or a Deeper Power. Trusting God to be God - loving, present, faithful, compassionate, wise. Letting go in order to find the freedom, joy and power that comes with trusting. Letting go. We have to learn to do it. Often over and over again.

You don't have to be a recovering alcoholic to find a God Box helpful. All of us, to some degree or another, are "recovering controllers" when it comes to trusting, really trusting God. We all can pray the serenity prayer many in recovery of all kinds find helpful: O God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.

Here is another way to practice letting go and trusting God. I have told some of you about a way of praying that can aid in learning to let God be God as we are, at the same time, praying for someone. I like to do this using images since I am a visual person. Here's what I mean. Let's say I am praying for my friend Jane. In my praying, I imagine myself walking with Jane along the edge of a lake. It's a beautiful day, a light breeze is blowing, the sun is gently warming us. We talk about many things. Ahead of us, we see a group of people gathered around someone, seated on the ground and listening. As we get closer we see on this little rise of land, it is Jesus teaching. We sit among the crowd and listen a bit, and then when he is done speaking and everyone has drifted away, Jane and I walk up to Jesus, I introduce Jesus to Jane and then I do the hardest thing in this prayer, I walk away. I don't tell Jesus what Jane needs, what I think Jane needs, I don't tell Jane what I think Jesus wants her to do, I just leave her there, I just walk away, I just trust that they will work things out, that Jesus' love will do what is best and that Jane will respond in whatever way Jane will respond. I just walk away and trust and let go and believe. If you are a visual person, you might give this kind of prayer a try. It's a bit like the God Box I told you about, but a mental God Box.

And if you are not a visual person, you can try a verbal form of this letting go kind of prayer. Think of a person or a situation you want to pray about. Rather than telling God what you think the person needs, or how you want the situation to resolve itself, simply repeat a phrase such as, "Into your care I entrust Jane and her illness." Or "I trust you O God, with the worry I have about the presentation I have to do at work." Just repeat this prayer until you really do let go. Simple. Well, simple, but not easy.

James and John ran up to Jesus, "Teacher, we want you to do whatever we ask of you." And Jesus said, "What do you want me to do for you?"

Next time we pray in one form or another, "God, I want you do whatever I ask of you," and God replies, "What do you want me to do for you?" May you have the courage to say, "whatever you think is best Lord. Into your loving hands I entrust my worries. Into the care of your wisdom and power, I give my concerns. Really. No take backs. No holding on. No crossed fingers. Just open hands. Amen.