Sunday, September 4, 2022

Sermon: Cost of discipleship (Sept. 4, 2022)

 Full service can be viewed HERE. Sermon begins at 33 min.

Pentecost 13C
September 4, 2022
Luke 14:25-33

INTRODUCTION

I want to give you a bit of context for our first reading today. As you may recall, the Israelites spent 40 years wandering in the wilderness in search of the Promised Land. The part that we hear today is the end of that, as they are about to enter. Moses knows he is about to die, and is giving them some last instructions before entering this land, which is already occupied – by people who do not worship the God of Israel. This is the climax of Moses’ speech, and, contextual as it is, these words are still so valuable for us today!

For the Philemon text, I encourage you to read the little contextual blurb in the bulletin, which will make this short letter (we’ll hear the whole thing!) more meaningful.

And the Gospel… oof. It’s a doozie. Keep in mind, that this is still the part of Jesus’ life where he is traveling to Jerusalem to what he knows will be his death. Many are following him, and he will lay out for them what it means to be a disciple. Warning: it ain’t easy! But I’ll try to unpack that a bit in the sermon. Here we go – let’s listen!

[READ]


Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

I admit, when I sat down on Monday to see what the Gospel was this week, I said aloud, “Oh no…” Nope, I do not like preaching on this Gospel lesson. And who would? It’s cringy all the way through – hating our family members, taking up our cross, giving away all our possessions? Come on, Jesus! Be realistic! This is no way to gain followers!

Interpreters have taken two approaches to this difficult teaching. The one you have probably heard in sermons (and I have probably preached) is to interpret Jesus’ words not literally, but as a hyperbolic way of saying that we must give up our attachment to family and possessions, these things that we often consider to be of utmost importance in our lives. This approach points out that while these things are not bad in themselves, we must not let them hinder us from living out the Gospel. Makes sense, yeah?

The other approach is to say that Jesus did mean these things literally, but they are only aimed at a subset of Christians – for example, monastics, with their vow of poverty, chastity and obedience, or even people like Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Dorothy Day, or Desmond Tutu. While the good news of salvation is for all people, the role of disciple is reserved for only a few, and the rest of us are more like, “friends of disciples,” who support disciples where and how we can, and are inspired by them, and even follow their example intermittently in some areas of our lives.

I feel better about both of these approaches to this text… except not really, because I know the reason I feel better is that I have been let off the hook for the difficult life Jesus calls us to. And while I very much like when God’s grace lets me off the hook for things like, say, my captivity to sin… I also know that a faith that takes that good news, says, “Thank you very much,” and then basically buries it in a hole without letting it change me or how I live my life – is really no faith at all. 

So, where is the path that takes Jesus’ words seriously, but still allows us to maintain the healthy family relationships that bring us joy, and secure lives and homes that allow us to thrive?

Since I have preached on that first approach before, let’s approach this question from the perspective of the second one, the idea that there are “disciples” – who are called to a more austere life – and there are “friends of disciples,” who still live and work among society as a whole. Before we go on, let me make sure we are clear. First, we are accustomed to using the word “disciple” in reference to any devout person of faith. But in this context, I’ll be using the word “disciple” for a very specific kind of disciple – the kind who literally gives up everything to follow Jesus.

Second, I want to make clear that one of these, “disciple” or “friend of disciple,” is not necessarily better or more than the other. Both are needed, and both are valid roles to which Jesus calls people. In fact, if you look through the Gospel of Luke, you will find that he only explicitly invites 14 people to follow him: the 12 disciples (each of whom, Luke tells us, “left everything and followed him,” which we see is expected for the gig), and then two others. One is the rich man who went away grieving because he could not bear to give away all his possessions. The other is the guy who said, “Ok, but first let me bury my father.” Jesus then gives him a different call, to “go and proclaim the kingdom.” And that shift is significant – the man is not prepared at that time for the costly call of discipleship, but that doesn’t mean he is not still called to a life of active faith, to proclaiming the gospel. And this is okay! In fact, if you look at all the healing stories in Luke, Jesus never invites someone who was healed, whose life has been transformed by the gospel, to follow him. No, he says, “Your faith has saved you,” or, “Go in peace,” or, “Go and tell others what God has done for you.” You see – he tells them to go and tell, not to follow! Now, some of them do follow him as a part of a crowd, but Jesus doesn’t actually invite them to do so. What’s that about?

Well, keeping all that in mind, let’s return to today’s difficult text. This large crowd is following him. They see there is something very special, even transformative about this man, and they say, “This is pretty great! I’d like to be a disciple.” But Jesus of course knows what that entails – after all, he is at this point on his way to Jerusalem to be killed, and he is also well aware that his teachings are upsetting the Jewish and Roman authorities. A disciple of his, he knows, could be killed. Hence, they must have no attachments, and have to be willing to give up everything. That sort of call is not for everyone. And indeed, if everyone did do that, I’m not so sure we would have a church today, because if no one had any familial ties or places to stay or things to eat, if no one stuck around to care for one another – how could they survive? 

So, as he is hearing people talking about being his disciple, he wants to make very clear what that actually means: “If you want to be my disciple,” he says, “you’ve got to be willing to give up everything – family, home, and things, even your life.” Because if someone comes into this role half-heartedly, and doesn’t first count the cost, and can’t do it, it will look bad for that person, for Jesus, and for the whole movement. If this isn’t the call for you, he is saying, then don’t worry – the good news is still for you, and, there are other ways you can serve the kingdom. 

I met a woman on a plane once, Maxine, who was on her way to Ann Arbor, MI to become a nun. She was young, beautiful, and successful, and she could hardly wait to give it all up and start her life in the convent, so deeply did she feel God calling her to this ministry of word and prayer. As she described what her life would be, I shook my head in wonder. “I don’t think I could do it,” I said. And she said, “Well that’s because God hasn’t called you to this ministry. God has called you to the ministry of word and sacrament, and the ministry of marriage, and of motherhood.” 

It was a clarifying moment for me in my own sense of vocation. Our black and white brains might hear a text like today and think, “Well I can’t do what Jesus asks here, so I guess I can’t be a disciple.” But that does not mean that we take the good news, then go about our lives as if nothing has changed. Jesus does not call us all to the life of a monastic, nor to a life like Dietrich Bonhoeffer or Oscar Romero or Dorothy Day or Mother Teresa. Jesus does call us all to a life of transforming and transformative faith, in which we are always open to and heeding the ways that God is using us to bring about the kingdom, or bring about life for those around us, in whatever situation or ministry to which we have been uniquely called. Sometimes that means working to be less attached to things like our possessions or money or even our families, not letting them hinder our faith. Sometimes it looks like taking up a figurative cross and doing a hard thing for the sake of the gospel. Sometimes it simply means being a good friend to someone in need. A life of devout faith can look different for different people. But whether or not we are called to the sort of discipleship that Jesus describes here, we are all called to something, and we are all recipients of the good news of Jesus Christ, which promises to transform us and bring us to life.

Let us pray… Transforming God, you call us to a life of faith, a life that can be as difficult as it is transformative and life-giving. Keep us attuned to how you plan to use us, and encourage us to leave behind all that would keep us from your kingdom goal. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.


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