ed as a jarring, discontinuous presentation, inasmuch as it is a caution that the Passion is about to commence, as well as a prediction about its principal attributes and its principal authors, namely, the chief priests and scribes whose authority is so decisive in Jewish Jerusalem. Its logic resonates, however, if it is considered as a continuation of the theme of humility; here Jesus describes himself as the Son of man (Matt. 20.18), which positions him more or less equally with the laborers of the parable. For it turns out that the Son of man will humble himself before God, asking that "this cup pass from me," then immediately yielding to the imperative of the Redemption: "nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt" (Matt. 26.39). But that comes later. At Matt. 20, the point is that the foundation has been laid for Jesus' injunctions about humility and obligation to be absorbed by the disciples.
Into this rather solemn moment bestrides materfamilias Zebedee, doubtless proud that two of Jesus' closest followers, James and John are her sons. She wants them to "sit, the one on thy right hand, and the other on the left, in thy kingdom" (Matt. 20.21). What she and, presumably, her sons have absorbed about the kingdom of heaven is that it bestows grand benefit. On the theory, presumably, that if you don't ask you don't get, she wants to assure her boys pride of place with the Master. That theory has enabled her and her sons to overlook the just-articulated anticipation of Jesus' betrayal and death, possibly in anticipation of the glory associated with rising again (Matt. 20.19). The failure to see clearly and whole is challenged: "Ye know not what ye ask," Jesus says (Matt. 20.22). The parable, after all, has just explained that there is no percentage in a "gimme" out of what is already the ultimate reward, the kingdom of heaven. Further, the prospect of betrayal, mockery, scourging, and crucifixion is nothing if not a forecast of hum...