The famous Disney animated movie The Lion King has a song entitled “I Just Can’t Wait to Be King,” where the child lion Simba sings about how awesome it will be when he is the king. When I first saw the movie in theaters (not really knowing anything about the plot), I couldn’t help but think what a misguided song it was; after all, the most likely way that Simba was going to become the king of the lions was for his father – the current king – to pass away. Of course, the energetic happy-go-lucky song takes a more somber tone if the chorus becomes, “I Just Can’t Wait ‘Til Dad’s Dead.”
I was reminded of this today when I reflected upon today’s readings. In the selection from the Gospel of Mark, we hear the story of how James and John, the sons of Zebedee, asked Jesus, “Grant that in your glory we may sit one at your right and the other at your left.” Jesus replies, “You do not know what you are asking,” and notes “. . . to sit at my right or at my left is not mine to give but is for those for whom it has been prepared.” Jesus then tells his Apostles, “. . . whoever wishes to be great among you will be your servant; whoever wishes to be first among you will be the slave of all.”
It’s a famous story, and a great encapsulation about how being a follower of Christ is not about having power wishes fulfilled, or about lording your position above others – even if your position is as a pious, devout follower of Christ!
What I find really interesting is that this story comes directly after Jesus lays out to the Twelve exactly what is going to happen to him: “Behold, we are going up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be handed over to the chief priests and the scribes, and they will condemn him to death and hand him over to the Gentiles who will mock him, spit upon him, scourge him, and put him to death, but after three days he will rise.” It’s directly after this that James and John have their “I Just Can’t Wait to Be King” moment and ask Jesus to sit at his sides.
Perhaps charitably, it’s reasonable to think that James and John simply didn’t understand the full enormity of what Christ was telling them. Perhaps – even more charitably – they viewed his coming death as a good thing; clearly, it must be fulfilling some aspect of God’s plans, so it can’t be bad, right? But, no; even if God used Good Friday to bring about the possibility of salvation for the world, that doesn’t make the act of the crucifixion itself a good thing.
Humans have a terrible time taking information that they haven’t directly experienced and turning it into feelings in our hearts, wisdom in our minds, and action in our hands. Simba “knew” that he would be king some day and looked forward to that possibility, not grasping the full implications of that. James and John “knew” that Jesus was to die, and saw it as a path to power, not realizing the true implications of what they asked.
We “know” that we can be forgiven our sins and walk with Christ to the promises of Heaven. But do we really understand what that means, what that entails? The Church is good about turning lofty ideals into tangible elements that we can experience. On Good Friday, the prayer service casts us as direct participants in the crucifixion of Christ. During Lent, we fast, abstain, and sacrifice during a span of 40 days to attempt to bring us closer to Jesus’ own 40 days of preparation. We can walk the Stations of the Cross, putting in concrete terms and striking images exactly what Jesus endured on the day of his crucifixion.
And yet, the divide between what we “know” and what we “feel” remains. I’m sure Simba could have “known” that wishing to be king would mean that his father would no longer be around, but he was unable to feel it truly until his father did die. The Apostles were told ahead of time that Christ would die and rise again, but there was still confusion and tumult directly after the crucifixion. We can know that Jesus loves us, that we can live lives free from the shackles of sin, and that we should prepare ourselves for our demise – but it ultimately falls to us to turn that knowledge into something we can directly act upon.
