Then the mother of the sons of Zebedee approached him with her sons and did him homage, wishing to ask him for something. 21 He said to her, “What do you wish?” She answered him, “Command that these two sons of mine sit, one at your right and the other at your left, in your kingdom.” 22 Jesus said in reply, “You do not know what you are asking. Can you drink the cup that I am going to drink?” They said to him, “We can.” 23 He replied, “My cup you will indeed drink, but to sit at my right and at my left [, this] is not mine to give but is for those for whom it has been prepared by my Father.” 24 When the ten heard this, they became indignant at the two brothers. 25 But Jesus summoned them and said, “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and the great ones make their authority over them felt. 26 But it shall not be so among you. Rather, whoever wishes to be great among you shall be your servant; 27 whoever wishes to be first among you shall be your slave. 28 Just so, the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many.”
The request for seats of honor (v. 21) reveals a familiar human pattern: we desire good things—closeness to Christ and a share in His glory—yet we easily misjudge the path that leads there. Jesus answers with a question that reframes everything: “Can you drink the cup that I am going to drink?” (v. 22). In Scripture, the “cup” often symbolizes one’s appointed share or destiny, here the suffering Christ freely accepts for our salvation (cf. Is. 53:10-12; Lk. 22:42). By telling the brothers, “My cup you will indeed drink” (v. 23), He invites them—and us—into a genuine participation in His life: not a quest for status, but a willingness to love when it costs.
The “cup” comes first, the “crown” after. Jesus does not shame desire for honor; He purifies it. St. John Chrysostom (c. 349-407) notes that the Lord leads James and John away from grasping at thrones toward sharing His sufferings, because dignity in the Kingdom is inseparable from the Cross (Homilies on Matthew). This is why He speaks of places “prepared by my Father” (v. 23). St. Jerome (c. 347-420) explains that this points not to any deficiency in the Son, but to the Father’s wise disposition of glory and the disciple’s conformity to Christ. In other words, honors are gifts given according to love’s likeness to Jesus, not prizes seized by ambition. Likeness’ here means love conformed by grace to Jesus’ humility and self-gift, shown in choosing the Father’s will, serving before being seen, and bearing hardships in love for others (cf. 2 Cor. 11:23-28; 2 Tim. 2:10; Col. 1:24)..
When the ten grow indignant (v. 24), Jesus exposes a deeper illness: rivalry. He gathers them and reverses the world’s script. “The rulers of the Gentiles lord it over” (v. 25) is the old pattern—status, control, and display. “It shall not be so among you” (v. 26) is the new pattern—authority as service. Here Jesus names greatness as diakonia (service for another’s good) and “first place” as doulos (the self-gift of one who belongs wholly to God for others) (vv. 26-27). These are not pious labels; they describe His own life. He is the King who serves. He is the Master who kneels to wash feet (cf. Jn. 13:12-15). In His Body, leadership is measured by how much one lifts burdens, not by how much one is lifted up.
Everything converges in His final word: He gives His life “as a ransom for many” (v. 28). “Ransom” is the price of release; Jesus offers His life in our place to free us from the bondage of sin and death. The language echoes the Suffering Servant (Is. 53:10-12) and stands with Mk. 10:45 and 1 Tim. 2:5-6. The “many” is the great multitude of humanity—indeed all—who can receive the gift. In the logic of the Gospel, then, the path to honor is the path He walked: service, suffering, and love. This is the path the faithful are called to follow—not self-chosen pain, but the daily cross He entrusts to us, carried in love for God and neighbor (cf. Lk. 9:23; 1 Pet. 2:21).
James and John did, in fact, drink the cup. James was martyred by Herod (Acts 12:2). John suffered long fidelity, bearing witness into old age and exile (Rev. 1:9). Their stories answer the Lord’s question with lives, not slogans. They teach us that “the cup” is not extraordinary heroics for a few but daily faithfulness for all: forgiving when wronged, choosing the low place at home, listening before speaking, giving time when it is inconvenient, persevering in prayer when consolation fades, and bearing trials with trust. Hidden acts of love form the hands that will one day hold the crown.
For today’s disciples—parents and pastors, co-workers and catechists—the call is concrete. In the parish, honor follows the quiet volunteer who shows up, not the one who seeks to be seen. In families, the “first” is the one who serves the rest. In work, Christian leadership is stewardship, not domination: using authority to make others flourish. Ambition is not evil, but grace must convert it from self-advancement into zeal for others’ good. As St. Augustine (354-430) loved to say, true greatness is to be made small in love so that Christ may be great in us.
If we keep the title in view—the cup before the crown—this passage becomes a steadying compass. Jesus is not lowering our hopes; He is raising them. He promises real honor, but it comes along the narrow way He Himself walked. We become most like Him when we pour ourselves out for those He loves. And because He has already poured Himself out for us, no act of service is wasted, no suffering offered in love is lost. In His hands, the cup becomes the way home.
To those who faithfully read but seldom gather for worship: your presence matters more than you think. Simply showing up is a quiet work of love—your prayer, your “amen,” even your listening strengthens others and helps someone find courage to return to God (cf. Heb. 10:24-25). If it has been a while, begin again this Sunday. Come as you are; the Lord meets the willing and does the heavy lifting. This small step is a real way of drinking the cup with Him.
Lord Jesus, free my heart from rivalry and the hunger for praise. Give me a servant’s heart, ready to drink whatever share of Your cup love requires today. Stir in me a holy desire to gather with Your people for their sake as well as mine. Let my simple presence—my “amen,” my listening, my prayer—strengthen someone else and help a weary soul return to You. Teach me to carry the daily cross You entrust to me, in love for God and neighbor. Make me small in love so that You may be great in me, until the cup becomes the crown You have promised.
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Sources and References
- The Holy Bible, New American Bible, Revised Edition. Washington, DC: United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, 2011.
- Aquinas, Thomas, compiler. Catena Aurea: Commentary on the Four Gospels, Collected out of the Works of the Fathers. Vol. I: St. Matthew. London: Baronius Press, 2009. (Nihil obstat and imprimatur.)
- Chrysostom, John (c. 349-407). Homilies on the Gospel of Matthew, cited via the Catena Aurea.
- Jerome (c. 347-420). Commentary on Matthew, cited via the Catena Aurea.
- Augustine (354-430). Sermons on humility and charity, cited via patristic collections and the Catena Aurea.
- Orchard, Bernard, et al., eds. A Catholic Commentary on Holy Scripture. London: Thomas Nelson & Sons, 1953. (Nihil obstat and imprimatur.)
- Faculty of the University of Navarre. The Navarre Bible: New Testament, Expanded Edition. Dublin: Four Courts Press / London: Scepter, 2008. (Nihil obstat and imprimatur.)
- Chiu, José Enrique Aguilar, et al., eds. The Paulist Biblical Commentary. Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 2018. (On Mt. 20:20-28: servant leadership; “ransom” saying and Isaian background.)
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