MATTHEW 20:17-28
FOR HIS COLLEGE APPLICATION ESSAY for New York University, Hugh Gallagher answered question 3A in this way:
3 A. ESSAY: IN ORDER FOR THE ADMISSIONS STAFF OF OUR COLLEGE TO GET TO KNOW YOU, THE APPLICANT BETTER, WE ASK THAT YOU ANSWER THE FOLLOWING QUESTION: ARE THERE ANY SIGNIFICANT EXPERIENCES YOU HAVE HAD, OR ACCOMPLISHMENTS YOU HAVE REALIZED, THAT HAVE HELPED TO DEFINE YOU AS A PERSON?
I am a dynamic figure, often seen scaling walls and crushing ice. I have been known to remodel train stations on my lunch breaks, making them more efficient in the area of heat retention. I translate ethnic slurs for Cuban refugees, I write award-winning operas, I manage time efficiently. Occasionally, I tread water for three days in a row... I cook Thirty-Minute Brownies in twenty minutes. I am an expert in stucco, a veteran in love, and an outlaw in Peru. I play bluegrass cello, I was scouted by the Mets, I am the subject of numerous documentaries. When I'm bored, I build large suspension bridges in my yard… I am an abstract artist, a concrete analyst, and a ruthless bookie… I don’t perspire... Children trust me. I can hurl tennis rackets at small moving objects with deadly accuracy. I once read Paradise Lost, Moby Dick, and David Copperfield in one day and still had time to refurbish an entire dining room that evening. I know the exact location of every food item in the supermarket... I sleep once a week; when I do sleep, I sleep in a chair. While on vacation in Canada, I successfully negotiated with a group of terrorists who had seized a small bakery. The laws of physics do not apply to me. I balance, I weave, I dodge, I frolic, and my bills are all paid... I have won bull fights in San Juan, cliff-diving competitions in Sri Lanka, and spelling bees at the Kremlin. I have played Hamlet, I have performed open-heart surgery, and I have spoken with Elvis.
But I have not yet gone to college.
We laugh at that essay (and laugh quite loudly) for a number of reasons, one being that most of us, in applying to a college or for a job, have had to write that what’s-so-great-about-me essay or resume cover letter. We also laugh because such unreserved and exaggerated self-promotion is humorous. However, as we will be reminded of now, there is nothing funny about prideful ambition in those who seek to follow Christ.
Apostolic Idiocy and Indignation
In 20:17-28 prideful ambition rears its ugly head from those who should now be the least likely candidates, the twelve apostles. We'll especially see it in James and John by means of their mother. Look with me first at verses 20, 21.
Then the mother of the sons of Zebedee came up to him with her sons, and kneeling before him she asked him for something. And he said to her, “What do you want?” She said to him, “Say that these two sons of mine are to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your kingdom.”
This mother’s question is cowardly, commendable, and condemnable. It’s cowardly in that it’s not so much her question as her boys. She’s not the coward—they are. Notice that when Jesus replies in verse 22, he talks around her to them. The “you” (second-person plural) in that verse is the two boys. They’re acting like bashful schoolchildren on the playground pushing their bravest friend over to the girls. “Go ask Susie if she’ll go to the dance with me.” They are cowering behind their mom’s shirt. Does Jesus roll his eyes here? Does he think to himself, You 're getting your mother to ask your question? What he did with his eyes and thought in his mind, we don’t know. What we do know is that he brought these sons of thunder down to earth with his cup question (which we’ll get to in a minute). The cup question is about courage. Do you two cowards have it?
This question is cowardly. It is also commendable. It’s not as commendable as her posture (she humbly kneels before Jesus before she asks their less-than-humble question), but it’s commendable. Its source is faith in Christ and his kingdom. To ask this question shows that they believe in the kingdom of heaven—what Jesus has been teaching about himself, his coming reign, and the community that will exist under his Lordship. They don’t perfectly understand the concept, as shown in their question, but they do think Jesus’ vision will succeed.
I glean at least two lessons for us here. First, we should recognize that true faith and real error can be mixed in the heart of the best Brethren. Can a high view of Jesus coexist with a higher view of self? Yes. Can great faith and great ignorance be wed in one brain? Yes again. Thus we ought to persistently pray for purity, and we ought to gently seek to purify one another. I’ll put it this way. We should be willing to push aside the crumb caught in our brother’s beard and wipe off the spaghetti sauce stuck on our sister’s cheek. We ought to care enough to correct obvious impurities. Second, as much as we shake our heads in dismay or wag our fingers at them in shame, nevertheless “we may,” - “question ourselves as to whether we think as much of our Lord as [they] did.” Do we believe Jesus will reign? Do we give a passing thought to the eternal kingdom? Do we hope to get a good spot in it?
The question of verse 21 is cowardly but commendable. However, it is ultimately condemnable. The context of their question makes it especially condemnable. Right after Jesus speaks of his brutal death in Jerusalem (vv. 18, 19), “then” (v. 20)—that conjunction will introduce such a great contrast—comes the ambition question. Jesus will be lifted up on a tree, and these boys want to be lifted up to thrones number two and three.
But surprisingly, with such a striking contrast in mind, Jesus is gentle with them. He says, in I think a sad but sympathetic tone, “You do not know what you are asking” (v. 22a). It has the same feel as “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34) and here it is not “do” but “ask.” What is condemnable to Jesus is not the questioners (he loves them) but their question.
Let me add that I don’t think these two (or three) are alone in their pride. Joining them are ten angry men. I’ll toss them into the pride pool too. In verse 24 we read, “And when the ten heard it (the question asked), they were indignant at the two brothers.” Were they upset because these brothers would ask such an awful question, or were they angry because those two got to Jesus first? I think their indignation comes from their own desire for preference and promotion. I say that only because Jesus’ response to all of “them” in verses 25-28 points in that direction. He tells not just the two brothers great but the ten brothers grim just how grim a view of Gentile greatness is.
So I think all twelve men stand before Jesus condemned—guilty of the vice of pride and the sin of vain ambition. And at times I think we all stand shoulder to shoulder with them. The idea of one-upmanship is in us all.
The Correction of the Cross
As I said, Jesus won't condemn them, even though their attitudes and actions are condemnable. Instead he will correct them. And he will correct them by holding out to them (and us) his cross.
In the last two sections in Matthew, Jesus has given us his last-first theology (his view of kingdom greatness), and here he relates that teaching to his own person and work. He says in effect, “Do you want to learn about greatness? Let me teach you about the greatness of going up to Jerusalem. Let me tell you why the cross is so great.”
Two reasons are given. First, the cross of Christ is so great because it shows that humble servanthood and sacrificial suffering are exalted actions. Second, the cross of Christ is so great because the two-day death of one man gave eternal life to many.
Jesus’ Death as an Example
The first reason—the cross of Christ is so great because it shows that humble servanthood and sacrificial suffering are exalted actions—can be found in verses 22b-28a. We’ll look at humble servanthood first. Look again at verses 25-28a:
But Jesus called them [his indignant apostles] to hint and said, “[Cool down,] you know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones exercise authority over them. It shall not be so among you. But whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be your slave, even as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life...”
Jesus’ corrective here is straightforward: (a) Gentile or pagan rulers rule this way because they view greatness in this way; (b) you are to rule another way because you view greatness in the opposite way; and (c) that way is the way of the cross. And the way of the cross is humble servanthood.
In verses 26, 27 Jesus gives this parallelism:
Whoever would be great among you Must be your servant.
Whoever would be first Must be your slave.
In Hebrew poetic parallelisms this would be called synonymous or “focusing” parallelism;'’ that is, the first term is nearly the same as the second, but its slight difference focuses on the point of it. I’ll put the point this way. Do you want to be “great”? Then you need to be a “servant” (diakonos)—that is, wait tables, serve others. Do you want to not just be “great” but to be “first” (the first among the greats)? Then you need to be a “slave” (doulos)—that is, someone “who has no right or existence on his own, who lives solely for others.” All of us are repulsed by the idea of American antebellum slavery (and rightly so), but few of us would mind a maid or butler around the house 24/7. We ring the bell, and Jeeves comes and says, “You rang, sir?”
“Yes, Jeeves, fetch me my smoking jacket.”
“Certainly, sir. I’m at your service.”
“Very well, Jeeves, thank you. That will be all for now.”
Jesus says, “Brother, think Jeeves.” That is, there is no need to sacrifice your brain, but there is much need to sacrifice yourself in order to serve others first and even (what Jeeves rarely does in P. G. Wodehouse’s novels) consider “others more significant than” yourself (Philippians 2:3). Here Jesus is teaching his new community a new paradigm, where “the only valid ambition” is the aspiration to serve.
In Plato’s Gorgias, Cailicles states, “How can anyone be happy when he is the slave of anyone else at all?” (491E). This characteristically Greek or “Gentile” assumption and ideal Jesus turns on its head. Our Lord states, if you will, "How can anyone be happy [or perhaps at peace with God, others, and self—truly happy] unless one is the slave of everyone else?”
I doubt that I have to tell you how radically countercultural Jesus’ paradigm shift was then as it is now. Our culture “ceaselessly” directs us up, up, up; we must “pray almost daily for the wisdom and courage” to go down, down, down. And we go down, down, down because Jesus went down, down, down. He descended into greatness. He went down to go up. Philippians 2:9-11 reveals the last leg of the journey. Matthew 20:28 tells of the first: “even as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life...” Jesus is the ultimate example of servant and slave made great and first. In his life and death Jesus waited on the world. He came to the table and said to all, “I'm at your service.” To prove the point he washed his disciples’ unclean feet (John 13) To prove his point he died for unclean sinners. That’s humble service, and that is also sacrificial suffering.
Gentile greatness equals no serving, no suffering (it sounds like the way we usually think about the good life); Jesus greatness equals the opposite. Look now at verses 22b, 23. Here Jesus replies to James and John:
“Are you able to drink the cup that I am to drink?” They said to him, “We are able.” [We wish they humbly added, “With your help!” but they aren’t there yet. They knew not what they asked, and they knew not what they answered]. He said to them, “You will drink my cup, but to sit at my right hand and at my left is not mine to grant, but it is for those for whom it has been prepared by my Father.”
Here, interestingly, Jesus doesn’t deny that some people (perhaps even these two) have glory coming to them. (Shall Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy be made kings and queens?) He just says the Father has not delegated that office to him. But the one office he has certainly delegated is that of Suffering Servant. “And,” Jesus says in essence, “if you want to follow me, let’s talk servanthood and suffering. I will drink my cup of suffering, shame, and death, and you will also sip from it.” Of course they would—James, “with shocking suddenness,” drank the cup of martyrdom (he was beheaded by Herod, Acts 12:2), and John, “with wearisome waiting,” drank the cup of exile and tribulation on the island of Patmos (Revelation 1:9).
“You two (and you all),” Jesus says, “know this—before the crown comes the cross—my cross and yours.” In Paul’s words, Brethren will share in the sufferings of Christ (Colossians 1:24), or in Augustine’s words, “In His Passion we see what we ought to suffer” (City of God, 18:49).
They are going up to Jerusalem, and there Jesus will be mockingly but truly enthroned “King,” as he ironically dies between two crucified criminals, one on his right hand, the other on his left (27:38). That’s the picture of Jesus’ greatness. James and John’s mother didn’t see it here, but she would witness it then—“And Jesus cried out again with a loud voice and yielded up his spirit... There were also many women there, looking on from a distance... among whom were Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of James and Joseph and the mother of the sons of Zebedee” (27:50, 55, 56).
So in our church era of celebrity Christianity, ecclesiastical self-aggrandizement, presumptuous power plays, dumb-downed worship, truncated evangelistic witness—the removal of servanthood and suffering to make the gospel more attractive to the world (or the worldly, I should say)—let us attach the cross of Christ to our shoulders, let us sign our letters to each other, “Your servant in Christ," and let us join Brother Lawrence, the famous-for-his humility, kitchen-working servant, in praying, “Lord of all pots and pans... make me a saint by getting meals and washing up the dishes.”
Jesus’ Death as a Substitution
Having looked at the first reason (the cross of Christ is so great because it shows that humble servanthood and sacrificial suffering are exalted actions), we come to the second: the cross of Christ is so great because the three-day death of one man gave eternal life to many. The first reason can be shortened to Jesus’ death as example, the second reason to Jesus’ death as representative.
With this second reason we’ll focus on the top (vv. 17-19) and the tail (v. 28) of this passage. I think the top and the tail form an inclusio because they share similar themes and language and can be summarized like this: the Son of Man came to die. In verse 18 Jesus calls himself “the Son of Man,” and also in verse 28. He speaks of “death” (v. 18) and being “crucified” (v. 19), and then in verse 28 he speaks of dying as “to give his life.”
While these two parts go together, let me divide them so you can better see their significance. Verse 28 is one of the most significant verses in the Bible. So I will save that last verse of our text for last. Let’s first focus on verses 17-19.
And as Jesus was going up to Jerusalem, he took the twelve disciples aside, and on the way he said to them, “See, we are going up to Jerusalem. And the Son of Man will be delivered over to the chief priests and scribes, and they will condemn him to death and deliver him over to the Gentiles to be mocked and flogged and crucified, and he will be raised on the third day.”
This is the third prediction (see 16:21; 17:22, 23). What is new here is “the specific references to the Gentiles and to the nature of Jesus’ torment and execution—mocking, flogging, and crucifixion,” facts that would become the heart of apostolic preaching. What is significant here is that Jesus assures his first disciples, and all those since, that his “violent death [was] not a meaningless accident of history” but part of God’s predetermined plan and that he was “not a hapless victim but a knowing partner in the divine strategy.” Every possible kind of suffering the world could inflict upon a man—mental, emotional, and physical—flashed before him like a picture. And still Jesus knowingly, willingly, and lovingly headed toward Calvary to gain victory. He gained victory through the full surrender of his life to those who “delivered him over” (20:19; cp. 27:2)—his earthly enemies but also his holy heavenly Father.
That’s the top (vv. 17-19); here’s the tail (v. 28): “...even as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” Every word in this sentence is a gold mine. We will, however, have to limit ourselves to mining only a few of the best nuggets. And we’ll get to these nuggets by answering two questions.
The first question is, who died? Jesus died. But who is Jesus?
We know that Jesus had predictive powers, if that’s the right term to use. That is, he predicted the future, and the future came to pass. What he predicted in verses 18, 19 occurred. He entered Jerusalem (chapter 21). He was charged and condemned by the Jewish and then by the Gentile authorities (chapters 26, 27). He was mocked, whipped, and crucified (chapter 27). And he rose from the dead (chapter 28). Whoever he is, he is at least a true prophet (21:11).
But, of course, we know that he is more than a prophet. He tells us as much with his favorite self-designation, “the Son of Man.” This title refers to the heavenly figure Daniel saw in his vision (Daniel 7), the one coming on the clouds and receiving dominion and glory and an everlasting kingdom. Ah, the strange paradoxes here. When we read 20:28 with Daniel 7:13, 14 in mind we expect to read, “The Son of Man came to rule.” We do not expect to read, “The Son of man came to serve.” We expect to read, “The Son of Man came to live forever.” We do not expect to read, "The Son of man came to give his life” (v. 28). But to Jesus, the Son of Man (Daniel 7) and the Suffering Servant (Isaiah 53, the one whose suffering and death “bore the sin of many,” v. 12) are one person. Ah, the glorious mystery of the cross! "The Son of Man” as servant? Wow! The Son of Man as servant via suffering? Double wow!
Who died? Jesus the prophet, Jesus the Son of Man, but also and finally and most significantly, Jesus the beloved Son of God. Now we have heard the announcement, after the baptism and transfiguration, "This is my beloved Son” (3:17; 17:5) — the Jesus of the Gospels is now glorified in the presence of the Father. That is the Jesus of today. That is the Jesus we are to worship. Yes, Jesus healed the sick. Yes, Jesus fed the hungry. Yes, Jesus taught parables. Yes, Jesus suffered. Yes, Jesus died. Yes, Jesus rose again. But now Jesus is seated in Heaven in glory.
That’s who died on the cross! That’s who died. Consider too why he died. If you have the who wrong— as many cults and world religions today do—then the puzzle piece of why he died can’t fit into place.
Why did Jesus die? There are three key words (two from v. 28) that tell the whole story:
(a) “cup,”
(b) “ransom,” and
(c) “for.”
I’ll start with the word for. Jesus gave “his life as a ransom for many.” The word here could be translated “for” or, I think more clearly, “as representative of”.
The second key word is “cup.” Jesus speaks of “my cup" (v. 23), “the cup that I am to drink” (v. 22). What is Jesus’ cup? Part of the drink is the hostilities that arise from faithful gospel proclamation and living—what James and John experienced. But the other part, the part Jesus alone will drink (did drink), is the cup of God’s wrathful judgment upon wickedness. In the Old Testament this cup is the frequent, graphic expression of God’s wrath that rebellious sinners must drink.
Adam sinned; so Adam died. Death was his punishment. We are told: "The wages of sin is death" (Romans 6:23). This is God's law, and it cannot be broken. All men (except Jesus) die because:
1. We all have Adam's dying nature;
2. We all sin.
2 Reasons
Jesus died because:
1. He had Adam's dying nature; But he did NOT sin.
Only 1 Reason
Jesus was tempted just as we are, and in some ways more than we are, yet he never sinned. In Hebrews 4; 15 we read: Jesus was "in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin." So Jesus had to die because he had human nature, but he did not deserve to die because he had not sinned. Because of this God was able to raise Jesus from the dead without breaking His own law that "the wages of sin is death".
After his resurrection God gave Jesus a new nature - a nature that was no longer dying because of Adam's sin and also a nature that could no longer be tempted to sin. We can have our sins forgiven by being associated with the sacrifice of Jesus in baptism and confessing and repenting. When Jesus comes again we can also overcome death.
One highly-esteemed Bible scholar says “the many” is not a “fixed number” but rather is a term that “embraces the whole human race” (cp. 1 Timothy 2:6). Do you know who said that? John Calvin. Others are more Calvinistic than Calvin on this term, and they say “the many” refers to the elect or God’s people. I’m in this camp, not merely because I make every effort to squeeze oddly-shaped Bible verses into my squarely shaped framework, but because I think Jesus here is borrowing language from Isaiah 53. In Isaiah 53:12 we read that the Servant “bore the sin of many, and makes intercession for the transgressors,” and before that in 53:8 we read that the Servant was “stricken for the transgression of my people.” So I think in 20:28 the “many” are “God’s people,” or here and now “the Ecclesia,” those “who accept Jesus’ offer of forgiveness, made possible by his death, and who commit their lives to him in discipleship.”
For the “many”—whether you think “many” means “all” or “some”— Jesus gave “his life as a ransom.” Our final key word is “ransom.” We still use the word ransom today, usually talking about a hostage situation. Kidnappers demand a ransom of two million dollars for the release of the dignitary’s daughter or whatever. In the first century it simply referred to the price paid for the release of slaves. It also could refer to money paid in the place of capital punishment. Perhaps in the case of Jesus’ death it is good to keep both definitions in mind. Jesus’ death paid for our sins (our zillion-dollar debt), releasing us from the servitude of and punishment due to sin.
So do you see the picture here? You are slaves to sin. Through his death, Jesus paid to set you free. You are set free from sin and made a slave to righteousness. You have been freed to serve others first. You have been freed to sacrificially live out the gospel. The answer to the Heidelberg Catechism’s first question provides a good summary of all we’ve learned from this text:
That I belong—body and soul, in life and in death—not to myself but to my faithful Savior, Jesus Christ, who at the cost of his own blood has fully paid for all my sins and has completely freed me from the dominion of the sin... Therefore, by his Holy Spirit, he also assures me of eternal life, and makes me wholeheartedly willing and ready from now on to live for him.
Why is the cross of Christ is so great? The cross is so great because it shows that humble servanthood and sacrificial suffering are exalted actions and because the three-day death of one man gave eternal life to many.
Another Einstein End note
I finished the last chapter with a witty quote from Einstein. I thought I'd end this tract with another. Albert Einstein once said, “Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity, and I’m not sure about the former.”
Now, our Lord Jesus, would certainly deny the infinity of it (only God is infinite), and I think he would slightly tweak the stupidity statement. Instead of saying humans are infinitely stupid he would say humans are substantially sinful. That is, if the human heart were layered like an onion, and you were able to peel layer after layer until you get to the core, you would peel away layers of friendliness and generosity and compassion, then layers of greed and ingratitude and hatred and idolatry. But then, at the center, you'd find pride. You’d find self-love, self-rule, and self-glory.
This was seen in the rich young ruler, where we might have expected it, but it is also seen in the twelve men closest to our Lord Jesus, the apostles. And the message here is, let’s not find it in you and me, brothers and sisters. Or when we find it, let’s remove it. Let Christ and him crucified be at the core.
(R. Kent Hughes. and Douglas Sean O'Donnell., 2013; edited Carl Hinton., 2020)