Mark 10:35-45

When I was a seminarian at Yale Divinity School, I heard the famous spiritual writer Henri Nouwen preach on this gospel lesson. The story goes like this:

Jesus had just finished telling his disciples for the third time that he would be handed over to the authorities, suffer death, and rise again. Two of his disciples, James and John, take the opportunity to ask Jesus for prime positions in what they presumed would be his kingdom. “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.” It was such a daft moment, inappropriate in the situation. Jesus, seeing that they have completely missed the point, tells them, “You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I drink?”

That question became the theme of Nouwen’s sermon. In the gospel passage, the cup represents Jesus’ suffering, his upcoming passion and death. Nouwen had been an eager disciple. After all, his uncle, who was a priest, had encouraged him to go into the ministry. He quickly rose in the ranks of academia, teaching at Yale and Harvard. He was in demand on the lecture circuit around the world and the author of dozens of acclaimed books. It was an enviable position – Nouwen had prestige and influence, he was admired by all. Nouwen didn’t just drink the cup, he chugged it down.

But Nouwen was not happy. In fact, he was struggling with severe depression. Nouwen said, “After twenty-five years of priesthood, I found myself praying poorly, living…isolated from other people, and very much preoccupied…I woke up one day with the realization that I was living in a very dark place and that the term ‘burnout’ was a convenient psychological translation for a spiritual death.” He couldn’t drink the cup anymore.

That’s when Nouwen dropped out of the academic life. He went to live at Daybreak, a religious community where people with and without intellectual disabilities live and work together. He was paired with Adam, a man living with severe cognitive disabilities, and Nouwen’s job was to help Adam with his morning routine. Though it was ostensibly Nouwen who was the helper, he quickly found how much being with Adam helped him. Adam’s smile, his faithfulness, his ability to laugh – all these seemingly small things were huge gifts to Nouwen. In this community where each member was valued, each person ministering and being ministered to, Nouwen slowly found healing and purpose once again.

Nouwen began to hear Jesus’ question, can you drink the cup? differently. Instead of being simply a call to suffering for the good of others, he began to see how the cup is also a symbol of God’s blessing in scripture. Psalm 116 speaks of lifting up the cup of salvation as a sign of gratitude for God’s redemption. The 23rd Psalm speaks of God’s goodness in the phrase, “my cup runneth over.” For Nouwen, drinking the cup meant bringing one’s whole self to God. It meant giving and receiving. It meant accepting both the challenge and the joy of following Jesus.

Are you able to drink the cup? Nouwen asked us. He looked right into our eyes – we who were supposedly the brightest and the best; we who had so many advantages, yet so needed to prove ourselves. We were like James and John, wanting to show that yes, we were able to do this ministry thing. We can drink the cup.

Then Nouwen reminded us of Jesus’ classic answer: “Whoever wishes to become first among you must be servant of all.” That is what Daybreak is about, he said – putting together those who are considered first, and those considered last, and recognizing the gift in every person regardless of ability or label. It’s about serving one another. The community at Daybreak helped Nouwen understand that drinking the cup is about embracing life in all its variety: in its possibilities and limitations, in its joys and sorrows. It’s about having the humility to drink the cup together, and finding that’s what we’ve been longing for all along.

Can you drink the cup? Jesus’ question was addressed to each of us today. Where are you called to serve in the self-giving way of Jesus? Where are you called simply to receive? Where are you called into deeper relationship? Can you put aside your need to prove yourself and see that God provides within you what is needed for each moment? Can you live wholeheartedly, embracing both the joy and pain of life?

Can you drink the cup? I’ll never forget the intensity with which Nouwen asked this question, as if it were the difference between life and death. But maybe it is. If we drink the cup as Jesus did, what we are actually doing is lifting up our own cup of life and accepting all that is in it – the difficult and the comforting; the happiness and the grief; the giving and the receiving. When we truly drink the cup as Jesus did, we can be grateful for everything that has led us to this place. Because truly, God uses it all to God’s glory.