July 1, 2007 – Fifth Sunday after Pentecost
Luke 9:51-62
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Grace and peace to you from God the Creator and the Lord Jesus. Amen.
Years ago, shortly after Pastor Susan and I arrived at Advent to begin our ministry here, I singlehandedly masterminded the greatest disaster in Advent’s brief history. We came here, fresh-faced from seminary, to this place that was brimming with possibilities, and I thought, “Let’s increase worship attendance even more, and we’ll do it with something called ‘Bring A Friend Sunday.’” The idea was simple: We would encourage every member to invite a friend to come to worship with them on a particular Sunday; the sanctuary would be packed to overflowing, we’d have wonderful worship, our membership rolls would grow by leaps and bounds.
So about six weeks before the big day we sent out letters encouraging members to invite a friend or two to worship, and we followed that letter up a couple of weeks later with reminder postcards. Our Fellowship Ministry got busy, and we were ready with more cookies and date bars than you can imagine.
Finally the big day came, Pastor Susan and I walked into the back of the sanctuary to begin the first service, and – the place was almost deserted. It was the lowest attendance in the history of the congregation! Susan and I looked at each other: What had happened? Well, what happened of course was that people were shy about asking their friends to come to church, and rather than show up and be embarrassed because they hadn’t brought someone, they didn’t show up at all.
A few days later I was commiserating about this with some older and wiser colleagues. They listened to my story, shook their heads, and said: You can’t do it that way! You can’t confront people like that! Look at the bigger, more successful churches around here, see how they do it. They identify what people need, and then they meet those needs. You’ve got to be accommodating; you can’t be pushy.
Wise insight into our culture, and into the culture of the church.
But how do you square that wise counsel with the in-your-face commitment Jesus talks about in today’s Gospel lesson?
This Gospel lesson is surely not a favorite among religion shoppers, folks who cruise the religion aisles in search of a comforting product that will fit into their lifestyle and meet their needs. Jesus won’t fit into that shopping cart, not today. Today he’s crystal clear about what it means to be his follower, and what it takes. He was crystal clear then; he’s just as clear today, with us.
Actually in this lesson Jesus is taking a sharp turn with his ministry. Up to now, he’s been preaching and teaching in the relative safety of Galilee, his hometown region, a melting pot of cultures and ideologies. Few people, if any, there would have been offended by Jesus proclaiming that the Kingdom of God was a reality in which the poor were actually blessed by God, that those who mourn and those who were hungry would actually find joy and be satisfied; and that it was the wealthy and the proud who were headed for trouble. Safe message to preach in Galilee.
But now he takes that same message to Jerusalem, the very heart of Jewish culture and religion, the seat of power that claimed exclusive understanding of God. Jesus’ message would be a direct threat to Jerusalem’s understanding of God and to its power. Now, a life-and-death confrontation is inevitable.
As Jesus heads to that confrontation, he encounters three people who at least appear eager to join him. The first one certainly talks a good game: “I will follow you wherever you go.” The second wants to follow, but he has to take care of a family obligation: his father has just died, and surely the Fourth Commandment, Honor Thy Father and Thy Mother, requires him to tend to his father’s burial. The third also has a family obligation to take care of, this time to the living: He just wants a little time to say goodbye to his family.
But Jesus is clear about the cost of discipleship. Following me, he says, will cost you your earthly security, because following me brings with it a kind of radical homelessness. Now, your home is the Kingdom of God, not any of the kingdoms of the world. And your loyalty to that Kingdom redefines and rearranges all human relationships and all human obligations. That’s what the Apostle Paul would write about later, in his letter to the Philippians, when he said that for all of the baptized, their true homeland was in heaven, and because it is, all of our earthly relationships are re-prioritized accordingly.
That’s what we see happening back in our First Lesson, from the Hebrew Bible, when Elisha changes his mind and accepts the role that God has set out for him. He leaves his past behind in order to accept the new life that God has planned for him.
In this Gospel lesson, Jesus issues some radical, provocative demands. The extreme nature of those demands lies in the fact that Jesus is claiming priority over the best of our relationships. The best, not the worst. Notice that he does not say to choose him over the devil. That’s easy. He says to choose him over the family; to choose the best over the good.
And this is where the Christian life becomes disturbingly clear for us, personally. If this is what it takes to follow Jesus, how in the world can we get there from here, assuming we even want to?
Well, look at the original disciples. For them, faithfulness didn’t happen overnight; it took time. Time, and their active involvement in the process of following Jesus, of not confining God to just the Sabbath but allowing God to infiltrate and oversee all the aspects of their lives: their work, their personal relationships, their attitudes about other races, other nations, their response to the poor. Jesus wants us to allow him the same access into our lives.
The life I have for you, Jesus says, is full and rich beyond measure. That’s what Paul wrote about in his letter to the Galatians, our Second Lesson, when he said that a life that is committed to God naturally produces love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, self-control, all the fruits of the Spirit. And it’s with those fruits of the Spirit that we in turn bless and love our families and our communities. That’s the life I have for you, Jesus says, and if that’s the life you want, then follow me, and follow me closely.
Following Jesus that closely is not simply a matter of intellectual assent. The old saying applies here: It’s easier to act your way into a new way of thinking than it is to think your way into a new way of acting. Ted Williams would never have become the greatest hitter in the history of baseball if he had just sat and thought about it. In fact, Williams was often called “a natural-born hitter.” That title showed up in newspaper columns and news stories, until Williams finally told an interviewer: “Look, there’s no such thing as a natural-born hitter. I became a good hitter because I paid the price of constant practice.”
And so it is with us. We become who we practice being; we grow into that which we profess. That’s not new wisdom; it’s as old as Proverbs 22, “Train up children in the way they should go, and when they are old they will not depart from it.” The wonderful thing about that proverb is that it isn’t confined simply to children; it applies to people of any age. It is never too late, and we are never too old, to develop our faith.
That’s the wisdom and the motivation, by the way, behind the staffing proposal you’ll be considering next Sunday morning, a proposal designed to introduce and cultivate a lifestyle of commitment to God, of putting God first. Three new positions: One devoted to faith life from infancy to preschool, because research is showing us that faith formation begins in infancy – not later, but in infancy. A second position dedicated to continuing faith development through the elementary school years. And a third, full-time position, devoted to shepherding our people through the junior high and senior high years, forming solid relationships with God and with each other. Pastor Susan and I would be able to devote more time to faith development among adults. The entire proposal is designed to produce a lifestyle of putting God first.
This is a strong, active approach. And be sure to underline the word “active.” God’s invitation must be matched by our active response. Garrison Keillor had it right when he said that you can become a Christian by sitting in church about as easily as you can become a car by sleeping in a garage. It just doesn’t work: God’s invitation must be matched by our active response. And, yes, by our sacrifice. All of us – all of us and each one of us – will be asked to increase our financial commitment to the ministry of this church. We won’t be shy about that, nor should we be; the life-giving commitment Jesus invites us into is total.
I close with a story. During the Vietnam War, now-Sen. John McCain was a prisoner of war for several years. He writes this about one particular incident during his captivity:
“In the final years of our imprisonment, our captors moved us from small cells with one or two prisoners to large rooms with as many as 30-40 men. We preferred this situation for the companionship and strength we could draw from one another. In addition to moving us to new quarters, our guards let us receive packages and letters from home. Many of us heard from our families for the first time in years.
“In our cell was a Navy officer, Lt. Commander Mike Christian. Over a period of time he managed to gather bits and pieces of red and white cloth from some of the packages. Using a piece of bamboo as a needle, Mike sewed a U.S. flag on the inside of his blue prison shirt. Every night in our cell, Mike would put his shirt on the wall and we would say the pledge of allegiance. I know that the pledge of allegiance may not be the most important aspect of our day now, but I can tell you that at the time, it was the most important aspect of our lives.
“This had been going on for some time when one night the guards came in as we were reciting the pledge. They ripped the flag from the wall and dragged Mike out. He was beaten for several hours and thrown back into the cell.
“Later that night, as we were settling down to sleep on the concrete slabs that were our beds, I noticed Mike, still bloody and swollen from his terrible beating, gathering bits and pieces of cloth together. He was sewing a new American flag.”
Just as life in captivity as an American was terribly difficult, so even more our life as Christians calls for our courage, our persistence and our commitment. Let us give them gladly, even with gratitude, as our response to the One who showed ultimate commitment to us, so that we might have abundant life, both now and in the world to come. Amen.
