Fifth Sunday after Pentecost
Luke 9:51-62
Sometimes I get tired of defending Jesus. Sometimes it feels like I spend a lot of time and energy in my work trying to explain and interpret some of the things that Jesus says and does. I accept that a piece of what I am supposed to do is challenge a simple Sunday School faith and educate people in a broader understanding of scripture by uncovering a unique historical context or explaining an idea lost in the words of translation. I mean that is what I am called to do. And so when the Pharisees come to Jesus and ask why his disciples eat without washing their hands I try to take that out of our understanding of 21 st century hygiene and draw attention to what the text is really trying to get at. When Jesus drops what seems to us as hard words of divorce and adultery I think it's important to understand that, for the time, those were really meant as words of protection and security for women. I could go on but you get the idea. Sometimes I get tired of defending Jesus.
The great contemporary preacher William Willimon in lecturing to other preachers has said, "Some of your homiletical failures are not your fault. Many of your failed sermons are due to Jesus. You have some tough material with which to work." Ain't that the truth? Today's lesson is a perfect example of Jesus tough material. Well not all of it but at least the second part of our gospel lesson.
The first part sounds like the Jesus we want to know. Jesus has set his face to Jerusalem. His ministry of teaching and healing around Galilee has been going well; it's been successful if we want to look at growth potential and marketing penetration. But now Jesus decides it's time to take on the big boys, the center of power, the religious establishment of Jerusalem. Whether Jesus knows his ultimate destiny or not is a matter of conjecture but even an outside observer knew that this journey would not be easy or without controversy. So Jesus sends his advance team down to a village of Samaria. Now the Samaritans did not accept Jerusalem as their worship center and when they refused to receive Jesus, probably because he was going on to Jerusalem the messengers encourage Jesus to zap that village like Elijah had zapped a village in the stories of the Hebrew scriptures. But Jesus doesn't zap anybody into submission and he rebukes his disciples. Now that's the Jesus we know. He doesn't bring people around by might or force; he doesn't give in to anger or animosity. Okay, but what happens here in the second part of our text?
In this part, three different people entertain the call to follow Jesus. By all appearances none of them end up following Jesus. We can only attribute that to what Jesus says to them; harsh words for which I have no defense. We'd like to think that there's some cultural context here that will explain Jesus demands or maybe some piece of mid-eastern custom that we are not privy to that will make these words seem more palatable, but no--there really is not.
Jesus discourages the first inquirer by making it clear there will be no security, no safety in following him. Followers will not necessarily be more comfortable or more prosperous, indeed chances are they will be less so. Jesus invites the second inquire but will not allow that family responsibilities should take precedence over the call he is issuing. "Let the dead bury the dead"--no sympathy or understanding there. Jesus does not even allow the third to use the common courtesy of saying good bye to family to delay following him. No excuses. Jesus just doesn't allow for any excuses. Now realize he is not raining down fire on any of these would be followers either. There's no punishment for not following; just the awkward personal recognition that there can be no delaying tactics, no if's ands or buts, no excuses.
I'm afraid if we, really bought in to these words we wouldn't have much of a church. We're pretty concerned about growing the membership and we're convinced that to do that we have to be appealing. We try to make our schedules convenient, our programs entertaining, our classes inspiring, and our worship uplifting because that after all is what attracts people.
It appears that Jesus is not in the same business. When Jesus says "follow me" it may not be safe, convenient or particularly to our liking. When we serve others it may not be personally fulfilling to us but then that's not the criteria Jesus would use.
Jesus is harsh in his words not to be mean but to be honest. He cares about us so much that he wants us to know how important it is to give ourselves in such a way that nothing is left over. He wants us to know how alive we can feel when we are walking with him. He wants us to know how it can breathe life into our weary souls to not be chopped up into little pieces between different priorities and commitments, but to be very clear about the one thing that is truly necessary and needful, that all our other priorities and commitments line up behind. He makes discipleship demanding for us because he wants us to know what it is like to get hold of our one true necessity.
Isn't that what makes the difference in lives like Nelson Mandela's, or Rosa Parks', or Martin Luther King Jr's or Martin Luther's or thousands of other lesser known Christians? They are clear about their first priority--following Christ.
There's an interesting conversation in Ann Tyler's novel Saint Maybe between the main character Ian Bedloe and his parents. Ian has become involved in a small congregation, the Church of the Second Chance. Under the guidance of the pastor there and with the help of the congregation Ian, who is only 19, takes on the task of raising his deceased brother's three small children. Ian's parents Doug and Bee are perplexed by the change in Ian's life and by Ian's intention to raise the children. Ian's parents begin the conversation, "Ian have you fallen into the hands of some kind of sect?" his father asked.
"No I haven't," Ian said. "I have merely discovered a religion that makes sense to me, the way Dober Street Presbyterian makes sense to you and Mom."
Dober Street didn't ask us to abandon our educations," his mother told him. "Of course, we have nothing against religion; we raised all of you children to be Christian. But our church never asked us to abandon our entire way of life."
"Well maybe it should have," Ian said.
His parents looked at each other. His mother said, "I don't believe this, I do not believe it. No matter how long I've been a mother it seems my children can still come up with something new and unexpected to do to me."
It seems that Ian had found his way into a congregation that was willing to speak the hard sayings of Jesus, and to call people to leave their way of life behind. I can't defend this. I can't explain it away. This is disturbing, it is unsettling. Maybe too it is the gospel.
Amen