Jesus calls us to be servants of one another.

In Mark 10: 35-45, Jesus’ disciples assert a bold request for power. They demand due for sacrifices they made in choosing to follow Jesus. They say, “Grant one of us to sit at your right hand and one at your left hand in your glory.”

We shouldn’t be too critical or judgmental; we might well have asked for the same. After all, these disciples left careers and homes to follow Jesus. They sought roles equivalent to Prime Minister and Secretary of State. Any responsible liberation movement would have allotted this right; it is the wisdom of power.

Jesus responds with supreme irony. He asks them, “Can you drink of the cup that I drink or be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?” The disciples jump up and down shouting, “Yes, yes!” and wonder what they were finally going to get. Jesus says, “You will indeed share my cup, but the intention you seek is not mine to give. You have not yet understood my kind of kingdom.”

In fact, what these disciples get is the opposite of what they expect. They desire pomp and circumstance and royalty like the Herodian Temple in the walls of Jerusalem. Instead, they survive as servants working in the streets for the early church. They endure persecution and disrespect. Indeed, the final image of the “right and left hand of Jesus” turns out to be two thieves, each nailed to his own cross.

We must notice that blind healing stories frame this central section of Mark. The blind see while the sighted do not. Insiders are outsiders. Outsiders are insiders. Here, conflict arises between Jesus and his disciples, who resist the call to humility he preaches and lives.

In contrast, the later text of Hebrews, written between 60 and 90 A.D., shows understanding of Jesus’ call for servanthood. We know the writers of this later text had a contemporary model in Melchizedek (Hebrews 5:6), a well-known priest figure who served his people with humility. So what happened in the interim between the writer of Mark and the writer of Hebrews that created this radically different understanding among Jesus’ followers? That event we call Jesus’ death and his Resurrection. We know the truth of Jesus’ kingdom when we recognize that Resurrection comes after humiliation and death.

When the disciples dreamed of power and privilege, they were able to hear in Jesus’ teachings only what they wanted to hear. Most of us do this until some event causes us to see in a new way. Pastor Richard Michael (Christian Century, October 2011) in his first sermon after 9-11-01 stated, “We are now seen by the world as having joined the ranks of those who know poverty. We … a people of great wealth and resources, for a moment have opportunity to join Lazarus in a beggar’s view of the world … here we can learn about value and priorities, it is the wisdom of the poor … perhaps we can change our prayers from ‘God bless America’ to ‘God make America a blessing to the nations.'”

Subsequent events proved that this country could not sustain so radical a vision. Our leadership continuously refuses to even consider such wisdom. But we, the church, are compelled to heed Jesus’ call to create a community of character. We ought to live as a reminder of what Richard Michael calls “the wisdom of the poor.”

So, like the writer of Hebrews, who looked to Melchizedek, for example, where do I look to understand this wisdom?

In 1962, my wife and I spent time in Puerto Rico. Here, we got a small introduction to this wisdom. Late one Sunday evening, after a worship service, we were taken to Coamo Ribba by jeep on a horse trail over the hills. We came to a wooden house built precariously on stilts with a small outdoor kitchen. At 9 p.m., we were served a meal of arroz con pollo, a relatively rich expense for this family. But they wanted to offer this generosity to their guests from the north.

Many times since, my wife and I have directly experienced such acts of generosity from the poor. I am not talking about those living in abject poverty, neither am I advocating for abject poverty, but often those with little know instinctively the wisdom of generosity. They understand this wisdom far beyond what we with relative wealth know. Statistics are consistent. When incomes are higher, the percentage of that income given to charitable causes is lower.

People who are not wealthy are often aware of their dependence on each other. People who are not wealthy are often aware that everything and every action is a gift from the divine.

We who are not poor need to repent our proud illusion of self-sufficiency. To live as a community of character is to remember that truth Jesus offered to his disciples on that day they asked for privilege: “Whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be slave of all. For even the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve” (Mark 10:43-45).

That the last are first and the first are last—this truth we still find hard to understand. This truth challenges our modern society. This truth teaches us how those who live in a shabby wooden house on stilts can lead us toward the richness of a life lived in loving and generous humility.

Earl Sears is a member of the Mennonite Congregation of Boston. This article is adapted from a sermon he gave there.