Have you ever ridden shotgun?
Growing up, there were few cries that evoked more of a firestorm than the simple words: “I’ve got Shotgun!” “No fair!” “You had it last time.” “You have to wait until we’re outside to call that!” Shotgun was the seat next to the driver, up front and it was the privileged passenger seat while riding a car. You had more leg room. Control over the radio, the a/c temperature settings, and depending on who was driving, you got to move the shift lever while mom held down the clutch. Shot gun was the privileged seat for riding in the Kempf family cars.
Interestingly enough, the origin of the terms comes not from our Western heritage in the United States, but from the movies about the Wild West. Shotgun was the seat next to the driver of the stagecoach. To fend off attacks from Indians and bandits, the person next to the driver carried a shotgun for protection. That guy always got killed first in the movies. You didn’t want to kill the driver, because then the horses would run wild. But the guy riding shotgun…not only was he expendable, but he had to go if you wanted to capture the stagecoach.
For all of you who ever called out for that seat, there is another fact about shotgun. Before the advent of the seat belt and the air bag, shotgun was the most dangerous seat in the car if you were in an accident. In automobile accidents, the person riding shotgun was the most likely to be thrown from the car, or be outright killed by impact with the window. It was the most dangerous seat in the car.
Jesus knew all about calling shotgun. James and John do it in today’s gospel. “Shotgun!” “Privileged seats!” “We want our dues!” “We want our recognition.” “We want to sit right next to you, where the action is.”
Jesus looks them in the eye and asks: “Do you know how dangerous it is, what it will cost you? Can you drink the cup? Can you undergo the baptism?” That is what it means to ride shotgun in the kingdom of God – the being willing to choose suffering and to undergo the baptism of self emptying love. And to their credit, James and John don’t flinch. Can do! If this is what it takes to have those seats of honor in the kingdom, then we’ll endure anything.
I wonder if they really knew what they were getting into. We’ll never know. But we do know Jesus’ response: “Indeed you will suffer, indeed you will be baptized.” But let me take you one step further on this dangerous ride called shotgun in the kingdom.
‘You know how their great ones make their importance felt. It shall not be so among you.’ Those are iron hard words from Jesus. Because in that one simple sentence he undercuts the merit system of religion – that Deuteronomic system where enjoying the good things of life was a just reward from God and a sign that you were living right. Turning that on its head, Jesus tells us greatness is only measured in service. It is only measured in service. And those who would ride shotgun in the kingdom of God have to serve from that position, rather than look to be served.
You and I, who come to this table, to these privileged seats in the kingdom of God, are we ready to call SHOTGUN? Are we ready to give our lives in service to our Lord, on the Lord’s terms and not our own? It cost James his life in Jerusalem, and sent John into the mission fields of service in Ephesus, in far away Turkey, a long way from the nets and shore of the Sea of Galilee. Will you say yes as they did, without knowing exactly what it will cost – only that you’ll have to drink the cup and be baptized into the same suffering?
Shotgun anyone?