Let us begin with stories about following. How the fire started
was never determined for certain—All the children knew was that they awoke
to a room filled with smoke—there were flames in the stairway—the
heat was so intense that it drove them back into the corner of the room furthest
from the door.—The darkness and swirling smoke made it difficult to even
know where the windows were.—Through the smoke the red of flames leapt
in and out of focus—the flashing lights of emergency vehicles outside created
a strobing in the room that transformed the familiar into the alien.—The
children screamed and shrieked in fear—then choked and coughed as walls
of billowing smoke churned toward them.—Suddenly the mass of smoke grew
darker and loomed toward them twisting and turning until it seemed to take shape.—A
huge dark form wheezed and hissed lumbered towards them—unfolding itself
until the shape of arms could be seen dripping with water—steam hissing
off the helmet and oxygen backpack.—Great arms opened and swooped up the
youngest child and then a deep voice boomed forth above the roar of the flames—
“Follow me—Stay low and follow me” the fireman yelled and the
huddled children began to crawl towards his legs—protected against the
flames by the shower of water being hosed upon him.
It had started out as a simple game of chase—they took turns being “it”—running among the trees—jumping small ravines and ducking behind the low bushes. It had been great fun and the time passed so quickly—But as they played their way deeper and deeper into the woods—the daylight began to wane—there came the realization that it was getting dark—the sun was down and the remaining light was fading fast. The chase had taken them far from the forest paths—there was no clear trail back. They weren’t even sure which way was out. What had been fun and carefree suddenly became sinister and threatening—a chill touched them as they realized that home might lie in any direction—and so might lost. They began to argue about which way to go. It was then through the gathering dusk that they saw a light coming towards them—In a few minutes they could see a human form holding the flashlight—Then came the words—“You look lost—Follow me and I’ll lead you back to the camp area—Follow me.”
Explosions—Gun fire—the young lieutenant knew this was not good. The company was pinned down in a shallow valley—mortars were beginning to ring their position—it wouldn’t be long before the enemy had range on them. The sound of bullets—the roar of more mortars—the lieutenant looked over his shoulder at the youngest member of his squad—head down and dirt clumps falling like rain. He pushed down with his arms and rose against the smoke of battle. His voice rang out—“Marines! Follow me!” And with almost drilled precision the men charged out of the valley and up the slope. Follow me.
In smoke and flame—lost in the woods—in the midst of battle—no one asks why or even where—the voice cries out, “Follow me” and those who are called respond. But consider this story—As Jesus was walking along, he saw a man called Matthew sitting at the tax booth, and he said to him, “Follow me.” And he got up and followed him. That’s all we are told—Jesus says “follow me” and Matthew got up and followed. I walk into my son’s bedroom and say “Come with me for a minute.” The reply is predictable, “Why?”—Of course, if some one asks me to follow them I usually do the same thing. Follow me—the natural response is to ask why unless the answer is so obvious and self evident that there is no question. Jesus says “follow” and Matthew follows. There are many and various explanations given to Matthew’s no-questions-asked response—some suggest Matthew had had previous encounters with Jesus’ teachings or maybe he had even witnessed a few of His miracles. Others suggest that Matthew might have been at a critical point in his life and he was open to the possibility of taking a new direction following this new rabbi. Of course it could be that the reason there was no hesitation was that following was so obviously the right thing to do that there was no question. Not that there were no questions about following Jesus.
Our lesson tells us that immediately after inviting Matthew to follow him—as Jesus sat at dinner with tax collectors and sinners the questions began. To have time to ask the questions—to analyze the situation—assess the implications—this is more often the business of historians and courts—Not every moment in life affords this opportunity. To have the luxury to ask the questions is a gift that few of us recognize—It is the opportunity to reflect on God’s Word—to explore the many meanings of that Word for our lives—to weigh the value of various actions and decisions. It is the stuff of which institutional religion is made—assemblies and gatherings like that of our Metro Chicago Synod meeting this past Friday and Saturday at Carthage College in Kenosha, Wisconsin—one of our 22 Lutheran Colleges. Here was a gathering of over 500 delegates from the metro Chicago area—including two from our congregation—gathered to consider the ministry priorities and needs of our greater church—A gathering of people who all yearn to follow but first they have a few questions—some financial—some moral—some spiritual and some very personal. So the religious community came to Jesus with their questions—a point of order concerning sin—who to include and who to exclude So our synod assembly gathered but first there were a few questions—issues of sexual preference and economic justice, capital punishment and ministry to the homeless—we had points to clarify before we followed too far too quickly.
When it is a matter of life and death there is no time to hesitate—no time to doubt or seek the best solution. To a certain degree that was true of the assembled church too—on resolutions concerning hunger there was no debate—it should be stopped—on the issue of the homeless there was immediate consensus—it should not exist—and even on the subject of the Middle East we all agreed there should be peace—these were the quick and easy responses of steps following in the right direction. But there were also questions—questions of how and what and even why. We are blessed with moments in our lives that allow for reflection, assessment and analysis. The questioning is not bad. God provides moments to explore the questions “why” and “how” that cannot be easily probed during times of trial and challenge. In the quiet time of a Sunday morning—while taking a summer break—engaged in a course of extended study—during such times the urgency can be shifted aside and questions probed— possible answers can be explored and found. But in the midst of a critical moment the response of faith may demand confidence first in God rather than in our ability to find an explanation.
Our Gospel lesson goes on—Even while the meal was yet being served and the discussion of faith questions being explored—a local religious leader kneels before Jesus with the most incredible request—My daughter has just died; but come and lay your hand on her, and she will live. You can almost hear those gathered saying, “What did he just say? Did he say dead? How—What—Why does this man even bother Jesus?” Yesterday at the Metro Chicago Synod Assembly a representative from the National church made reference to a book by Peter Block that provides a brilliant perspective to our lessons for today and our life of faith. The book is entitled, “The Answer to How is Yes”. Faith does not wait for the analysis—Faith is the yes that can be analyzed later. And Jesus got up and followed the man—and the disciples follow Jesus—The Answer to How is Yes—But the story gets even more interesting because as Jesus is following the man a woman who doesn’t even have the nerve to address him reaches out and touches the hem of his robe in the hope of being healed—Now how did she expect that to work? But faith doesn’t ask how or why—Faith only believes that the answer is yes. The woman is healed—Jesus follows the religious leader and the little girl is raised from the dead—Maybe the reason Matthew followed Jesus was so obvious that he didn’t need to ask why or how—He only said yes. Follow me.
I received another invitation to join the AARP this week—For those of you too young to know—that’s the American Association of Retired Persons—you have to be at least 50 to be a member. I used to think of the AARP as an organization for grandparents and maybe for my aging parents and socially active aunt—But this time, as I skimmed the material—I found myself for a few fleeting moments thinking about my own retirement—a retirement still well over a decade off. Retirement—a time to settle back and enjoy life—at least that is my hope—a time of limited demands and fewer expectations I have no doubt that that is what Abram has thinking in our Old Testament lesson for today—Abram at age 75 was ready to settle in when God said—Follow me. Follow me to a new land and we will begin something great—a new nation of people with a new covenant of land and blessings. It would have been so easy to ask why or how and delay the whole venture through study and analysis. But some times the answer is simply “yes” and trust in God. So Abram set out from his place in Haran—So Matthew left his tax tables and followed Jesus.
As a congregation, we are on the brink of a great new mission adventure—The building program being proposed has already been hit by a lot of questions—the why’s and how’s—important to many members of the congregation and its committees—questions from the bankers and accountants, lawyers, insurance and others. Planning is important and good—and answering the questions is important—but there is also that voice that is saying “Follow me.” Follow me Follow me and a parent brings their child to a crowded Sunday school—follow me and a bell choir member keeps another Wednesday evening clear for rehearsal—follow me and one of our young adults sign up to work at Habitat building a home. Follow me and we rise from the pews and gather as one at God’s table of grace—Follow me and it is Monday morning—now what?
We know Abram had his doubts after following God’s call
to leave Haran—Certainly the disciples were not without their questions
following Jesus—but to so many of the questions of why and how the answer
was simply “yes”—In past centuries we have asked “How will
the church survive in the face of changing culture and secularization?”
The answer is that yes it did survive—and even thrived. We have asked,
“What will happen to our familiar congregation with all the cultural, social,
economic and ethnic diversity?”—and the answer came as yes, we are
called to follow as disciples to all people regardless of race or color, sex
or sexual preference, age or intellect, wealth or position. Follow me. Jesus
comes to our world—a world aflame with conflicts and war—a world seeking
the just and good but often struggling to find spiritual direction Jesus comes
to us in the midst of our battles against the terrors of this world with the
call—Follow me. Follow me. Jesus comes to us in the midst of the burning
issues of our lives—Jesus comes to us while we struggle to keep our lives
on course or while we strive to find a new direction—Jesus comes to us
as we battles to do the good against the evil that tempts us. A voice calls
out from the midst of the smoke and fire—Follow me. To the lost and confused
a voice calls—Follow me In the midst of the battles of daily life we hear
it clear—Follow me. On a sunny Sunday morning in the quiet of worship there
comes a voice—Follow me. Sometimes the answer to how is simply “yes”.
Amen.