Here’s what I’ve been wrestling with all week…Mark 10:35-45.

If James and John—the Sons of Thunder—showed up in our church today asking Jesus for the VIP thrones in His kingdom, what would we say?

We might high-five their ambition. “Guys, you’ve got vision! That’s the drive we need.” We’d probably hand them a leadership book and say, “Keep climbing—sacrifice a little now to go up later.” 

In business, politics, and even too many church circles, we celebrate the climbers. Success looks like ascending the ladder.

But Jesus doesn’t applaud them. Right after predicting His own suffering and death—for the third time—He responds, in essence: “You have no idea what you’re asking.”

This passage in Mark 10 turns my idea of leadership upside down. Here’s where I’ve landed this morning: Kingdom greatness doesn’t climb ladders. It descends—through service, sacrifice, and ultimately the cross.

The World’s Way

James and John approach Jesus: “Teacher, do for us whatever we ask… Grant us to sit, one at Your right hand and one at Your left, in Your glory.” Thrones. Honor. Prime seats.

These are the same disciples who once wanted to call down fire on a rejecting village (Luke 9:51-56). Ambitious? Yes. Evil? Not really—just blinded by the world’s definition of success. And the timing stings: this comes immediately after Jesus warns them again about His coming rejection, death, and resurrection.

Jesus doesn’t scold. He asks, “Are you able to drink the cup I drink, or be baptized with the baptism I’m baptized with?” The cup is suffering. The baptism is immersion in pain and death.

They boldly reply, “We are able.” Jesus affirms they will share in that suffering (James martyred, John exiled), but the seats aren’t His to grant.

The other disciples hear and get indignant—jealousy erupts. Sound familiar? We’ve all wrestled with “Who’s the greatest?” in our hearts, families, workplaces, or churches.

Jesus gathers them and contrasts the world’s model: “You know that those considered rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them… But it shall not be so among you. Whoever wishes to become great among you shall be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first shall be slave of all.”

In the world, leaders climb ladders. In the Kingdom, leaders carry crosses.

It’s one thing to wash feet. It’s another to carry a cross.

We read good leadership books—even Christian ones. John Maxwell’s Law #18 says a leader must give up to go up. Helpful principle. But for Jesus, sacrifice isn’t one law among many—it’s the only law. “Going up” isn’t the goal. Going down is.

The Jesus Way

Jesus doesn’t just teach this. He embodies it:

“For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give His life as a ransom for many.” (Mark 10:45)

The Son of Man—with all authority—didn’t come to be waited on. He came to serve. And the ultimate service? Laying down His life to ransom captives free. That’s the Suffering Servant of Isaiah 53.

Paul captures the full descent in Philippians 2:

Have the same mindset as Christ Jesus: Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant… he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death— even death on a cross! (Philippians 2:5-8)

The cross doesn’t just save us. It shapes us—how we live, serve, and lead.

A Little Confession

This passage has confronted me hard during Lent. For years in ministry, I climbed the ecclesiastical ladder. I started wanting to help people (that’s why I left law enforcement for pastoring—more room for grace). But I brought worldly expectations: success meant bigger churches, bigger roles, maybe even bishop.

The Church encouraged it—leadership seminars, conferences, principles adapted from the world. I rose to District Superintendent, then a large church. I eyed the next rung.

And yes, jealousy too—just like the disciples. Seeing others promoted to “big” churches, I wondered, “Why not me? Why hasn’t God blessed me that way?”

Lent is for repentance. Jesus never tires of leading us home. By grace, He’s reshaping that ambition in me—not perfectly, but continually.

What About You?

Everything rises or falls on Mark 10:45. Jesus didn’t climb a ladder—He descended to the cross so we could be set free. That ransom wasn’t for our comfort or status; it was so we could become like Him: servants who lead by laying down our lives.

So here’s the question: Will you lay down the ladder you’ve been climbing? Maybe it’s ambition for recognition in your family, workplace, church role, or your own heart. Will you pick up your cross instead—not dramatically, but in daily choices: to serve rather than be served, listen rather than demand, give rather than grasp?

The same John who chased thrones later wrote: “This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters” (1 John 3:16).

If God transformed him, He can transform us.

Here is the prayer I’ve been praying all week: “Lord, I lay down my ladder. I pick up my cross. Reshape me like You.”

Would you pray it with me? Share your thoughts in the comments—I’d love to hear and pray with you.

Until next time, keep looking up…

(If this stirred something, feel free to share it. Lent is a season for turning toward the cross together.)