Me First

I watched them run to the elevator.
They were running so fast that they actually ran right into the elevator door.
Each was juggling into position.
Each had a hand ready to push the button.

It’s my turn, the older one said with authority.
No, it’s mine, the younger one said in his best whining voice.
I wanted to see who won this battle.
I stepped back and observed.

From a few feet away, a mom pushing a stroller was approaching.
The little toddler was happily drinking some juice.
The little juice-drinking toddler was joyfully kicking his feet on the foot rest.
The two older ones were ready for an arbitrator; their mom would do just fine.

They waited at the elevator door though not as patiently as they should.
They each gently shoved the other away from the button.
Their mom quietly approached.
Mom, it’s my turn, the older one said playing the trump card of age once again.

Neither one of you will have a turn since neither one of you know how to behave.
The mother got down and looked her toddler in the eye.
Would you like to push the button for Mommy?
In his excitement, the juice was tossed to the floor so his little hands were ready.

She wheeled him over to the elevator button so that he could push it.
The button lit up and the little ding sound indicated the elevator door would open.
The other two stopped shoving and whining.
They had lost that battle and they knew it.

I followed them into the elevator.
The mom and I exchanged knowing looks.
She knew that I knew what just transpired.
Discipline, training, life lessons all took place near the elevator door.

She would have ridden to her floor in silence, respecting the elevator code of behavior.
Her oldest son spoke first.
That wasn’t fair; it was my turn.
Before the younger one could even chime in his complaint, she spoke.

What wasn’t fair was the way you were acting.
We were in a public place; you were very inconsiderate with your tone and your actions.
That kind of behavior does not get rewarded.
The toddler went back to drinking his juice and kicking his footrest.

She continued.
I am sure you both will remember not to act that way again.
When we come back downstairs, I am sure that you will both behave properly.
One of you can push the outside button and the other will push the inside button.

She looked over their heads at me and smiled.
I wanted so desperately to give her the thumbs up sign.
For her children’s sake, I did not.
I just smiled that Mom-to-Mom smile that spoke volumes.

The elevator reached her floor and she walked off.
The older children were on either side of the stroller.
The toddler was still drinking his juice and kicking his feet.
Lesson learned.

I remember those days.
With five children, I almost needed a spreadsheet to remember who did what.
With five children, I didn’t need a spreadsheet because they always reminded me.
Most times they were correct, often the me first mentality reared its ugly head.

Who pushes the elevator button going up?
Who pushes the elevator button going down?
Whose gets to push the shopping cart?
Who gets to go first?

All mothers have witnessed the competition; the jockeying into position.
The, making sure I get my fair share, way of thinking.
The, I can do it better, faster, and more efficiently than you, syndrome.
That behavior is not learned; it is innate, it is part of our sin nature.

Jesus’ disciples were not immune.

Then James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came to Him. “Teacher,” they said, “we want you to do for us whatever we ask.” “What do you want Me to do for you?” He asked. They replied, “Let one of us sit at Your right and the other at Your left in Your glory.” “You don’t know what you are asking,” Jesus said. “Can you drink the cup I drink or be baptized with the baptism I am baptized with?” “We can,” they answered. Jesus said to them, “You will drink the cup I drink and be baptized with the baptism I am baptized with, but to sit at My right or left is not for Me to grant. These places belong to those for whom they have been prepared.” When the ten heard about this, they became indignant with James and John. Jesus called the together and said, “You know that those who are regarded as rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their high officials exercise authority over them. Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be a slave of all. For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life as a ransom for many. (Mark 10:35-45)

James and John were jockeying into position.
They wanted to sit on either side of Jesus when He reigned in glory.
They assumed Jesus would be an earthly king seated on His throne.
They wanted the thrones right next to His when He would overthrow the Romans.

Can you see them rushing ahead of the other ten disciples?
Can you see them trying to be first?
Can you hear the tone of their voice?
Me first! My turn!

Little did they know that the places on either side of Jesus were crosses.
Little did they know about the cup they would eventually drink.
Every one of the disciples, except John, died a martyr’s death.
They died as they lived – for Jesus.

Jesus calmly set them straight.
They couldn’t possibly know all they were asking.
But Jesus knew.
He responded in the grace-filled tone of a Servant-King who never put Himself first.