How's That Again, Jesus?
Sermon
LIKE A BREATH OF FRESH AIR
Sermons For Pentecost (First Third)
A misguided bird gets loose in the sanctuary and every eye in the congregation drifts toward the ceiling. Never mind that the choir is continuing to sing the anthem they have been working on for weeks just for this special occasion. The lost bird has totally interrupted the proceedings and besides, most would have to admit, its flight was much more entertaining. "I was so afraid that bird was going to land on your head -- but I'm sure the choir understands," is the comment heard from a number of people at the close of the service.
Two men meet on the street on Monday morning and in the course of their conversation, one asks if anything exciting happened in church the day before. "Oh, not much; same as usual, I suppose," the other replies. "Well, there was one moment. Somehow an old hound dog got into the church. Wandered right up to the altar, curled up, and went to sleep. Can't say much about the sermon, because that dog broke the place up! It was all over after that little event!"
Not only in the church, but in the course of the other days of our lives, most of us welcome those little disturbances which come our way. In most cases we rather enjoy them for they provide a break in the otherwise dull, routine grind of our day-to-day experience. Those distractions provide us an opportunity to sit back, smile and cover up the stresses for a few moments. There are even those few occasions when we actually seek them out with the hope that we can laugh long enough to forget about our larger responsibilities.
There is something about being disturbed that is almost pleasurable. The proliferation of amusement-theme parks has brought the possibilities of thrills and scares to a new level. Each park seems to be trying to outdo the other with rides that twist, turn upside down, and race along at high speeds. In the name of being entertained, we seek out such places to find an escape from our conventional and predictable ways of living.
One of the highlights of my experiences at camps during my growing up years was always the evening we built the huge campfire and told ghost stories. The flickering embers casting shadows into the trees which surrounded us provided the perfect setting for being "scared out of our wits," as we used to put it. There was nothing quite like being frightened, with disturbed spirits in and around us, only to turn and laugh about how we had acted. Of course, these days the motion picture industry, courtesy of special effects and those nearly demonic storylines, has turned our simple ghost stories into extremely terrifying experiences.
We welcome and pursue such disturbances -- up to a point. We even will tolerate and, for some deep unknown reason, like to be scared, -- but only for a fleeting, controlled moment. But when those intrusions begin to upset and force us to reevaluate our lives we cease to be amused and entertained. When more than a momentary thrill or scare is involved, the disruptions become serious matters. Life turns upside down, with no benefit of a seat belt, and it feels as if we tumble helplessly through time and space. Slivers of glass are found in jars of baby food. Poison appears in capsules. An alleged serial killer stalks the neighborhood. Suddenly the disturbances take on a new character. When our convictions are challenged, when our viewpoints are refocused, and when our beliefs come under decisive questioning, the grins disappear and the fun stops.
One of the least frightening, and perhaps most predictable, things in our lives is our concept of Jesus. For the most part our images of Jesus are inherited from our childhood Sunday school days. They tend to be quiet, pastoral images: holding a child, picking up lambs, walking peacefully through a grain field ripe for harvesting, sitting beside the road under the shade of a tree. About the only non-pastoral scene recorded for us involved a whip in the temple, but we quickly explain that one away and dismiss it as righteous indignation.
Certainly there are a few of his statements and teachings that bother us. We are not really all that comfortable praying for and loving our enemies, nor with turning the other cheek. Such lessons cause us to jump a bit and to catch our breath for a moment. But we balance those words with talk of loving our family, and tending to the needs of our neighbor, and we can, therefore, remain rather comfortable. Life can go on as usual, having enjoyed our momentary distraction.
Then all of a sudden it happens. From out of nowhere we are hit with a major interruption and knocked out of our seats. It is an encounter with a word from which we will not easily recover. There are many passages in the Bible I would just as soon not be there. I have a hunch if you thought for a few moments, you would come up with a few of your own. The text for this morning is one of those major disturbing, frightening passages. If you have not read it lately, then brace yourself for you may be in for quite a shock. Buckle your seat belt, for this one may throw you for a loop!
"Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I have come to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; and one's foes will be members of one's own household. Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it (Matthew 10:34-39, NRSV)."
On the surface, that would not be a good text to read if you were on a recruiting visit for the church and trying to attract new persons to the Christian faith. The church is, we think, to be in the business of good news, and this passage sounds like anything but good. Why would anyone want to cast their lot with a group that will destroy some of the most important relationships one can have? In contrast to such a passage, we have tried to make church membership seem attractive: why, it's easy to be a member; it's lots of fun down at this place; let's attract young people, entertain them, keep them happy, and thus add to our roll books; this place makes you feel good!
Here is a text that makes Jesus sound like a homewrecker and those who choose to follow him appear to be losers. Now that bothers me; it disturbs me to the point of wanting to rid myself of a passage such as this. But here it is and it will not go away. So what is it that Jesus is trying to tell us? I believe I hear him saying at least two things.
The first is this: loyalty to Christ will upset the normal routine. We cannot go on with business as usual, we cannot be content with the status quo as we have known and experienced it once we have responded in faith to the grace of God in Christ Jesus. If we are to remain loyal to Christ, even our family relationships may be altered, and conflict may result among those who are special to us.
This text reminds us that our faith in Christ is not just one among many other things we do in this life. Too many people think to themselves: "Let's see, as I grow up there are a few things I must do: get an education, find a job, discover the right mate for life, have children, join the club, play all the business games, join a church, and save for retirement." The mistaken belief that such thoughts generate is that joining the church and claiming faith is simply part of the maturing process. "Just add Jesus" seems to be the slogan many modern churchgoers live by. We can go on pretty much as we have been, doing what we want to do, and "just add Jesus."
But if I hear Jesus correctly, for the person who chooses to believe in and then be loyal to Christ, their relationships with others will take on a different character, a new quality which may, in turn, bring them into conflict with the accepted ways the world suggests we relate. The call to follow Christ is a radical call that challenges us to take stock of our priorities, and of what we consider important in our living. Inevitably this will create tensions and struggles as we strive to be faithful and, at the same time, survive in the world. Perhaps one of the grave injustices we Westernized Christians have done to the gospel, and to such a call as this, is to water it down in order to make it more palatable. In so doing, we have lost this radical notion of living in another world, with another world view that brings us into conflict with the norms and standards of this world. How was it the Apostle Paul put it in Romans? "Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind."
That word of Paul brings us to the other disturbing notion which Jesus emphasizes in this text -- that of being a loser. The world celebrates winners; the crown goes to the victor; the winner takes all. Yet here is the word about losing ourselves and no one wants to be lost, to be a loser, to come in second, to be the also-ran! I definitely do not, for losing goes against my grain. And, as I am often reminded by those who check the statistics, a part of my responsibility as an ordained clergy-person is to help those who are lost get found!
Here is, without a doubt, one of the great paradoxes of the Bible. In order to be found, we first must be lost; to be first, we must be last; to be great, we must be servant. It is a call, I believe, to lose our "selves" in the divine "self" of God.
We have a tendency to get absorbed in the latest fads and the latest gimmicks which appear on the market. I know persons who get so caught up in sports, in jogging, in the latest "never fail" diet, or in the most recent fashion craze, that their lives lose meaning if they are not involved in or do not own what is called for. This is not to suggest that these things are necessarily evil, only that when we become obsessed with them that we lose our identity apart from them, then we have, in essence, "lost" our lives.
Another way to look at this is to realize that we have become a very "addictive" society, to use a word that is so generally overused that we have lost sight of its meaning. To believe that our lives are worthless without a certain possession and go all out, sparing no expenses until we have it; to mistakenly conclude that life is not worth living unless we look like, or resemble the newest hot sensational personality; to live only from one fix to the next whether it is food or drug, exercise or transportation vehicle is to miss life itself. Such addictions are visible signs of the basic self-centered nature that so dominates our living, deciding and value-making.
Here Jesus calls us to throw that self to the wind and wrap ourselves, instead, in the grace of God's divine self. We lost that which does not make for life, that which is, finally, destructive both of our lives and of others, and discover that our true life is found in the love of God. Two centuries ago, Charles Wesley captured the heart of this in what has become one of the great hymns of the church. The final stanza of "Love Divine, All Loves Excelling" calls us to get lost:
Finish, then, thy new creation
Pure and spotless let us be.
Let us see thy great salvation
Perfectly restored in thee:
Changed from glory into glory,
Till in heaven we take our place;
Till we cast our crowns before thee,
Lost in wonder, love and praise.
Like this text from Matthew, Wesley challenges us to lose ourselves in God, to lose ourselves in the wonder of a new relationship that brings with it a new creation of life, by the grace of God.
In our kind of world, these are rather harsh words from the one who advocated love and lived by grace. That our relationships with those who are closest to us may take on new character, and that we must lose some things we have come to count on are not our idea of what life is all about. Such disturbing comments shake us. Perhaps they will shake us out of our easygoing complacent expressions of the faith to the point where we begin to take seriously the call to radical discipleship. It may mean a drastic change in our patterns of living, and that may bother us. But such conversion will also bring the assurance that we are living as faithful followers of the One who called us to walk with him to Calvary and beyond.
Two men meet on the street on Monday morning and in the course of their conversation, one asks if anything exciting happened in church the day before. "Oh, not much; same as usual, I suppose," the other replies. "Well, there was one moment. Somehow an old hound dog got into the church. Wandered right up to the altar, curled up, and went to sleep. Can't say much about the sermon, because that dog broke the place up! It was all over after that little event!"
Not only in the church, but in the course of the other days of our lives, most of us welcome those little disturbances which come our way. In most cases we rather enjoy them for they provide a break in the otherwise dull, routine grind of our day-to-day experience. Those distractions provide us an opportunity to sit back, smile and cover up the stresses for a few moments. There are even those few occasions when we actually seek them out with the hope that we can laugh long enough to forget about our larger responsibilities.
There is something about being disturbed that is almost pleasurable. The proliferation of amusement-theme parks has brought the possibilities of thrills and scares to a new level. Each park seems to be trying to outdo the other with rides that twist, turn upside down, and race along at high speeds. In the name of being entertained, we seek out such places to find an escape from our conventional and predictable ways of living.
One of the highlights of my experiences at camps during my growing up years was always the evening we built the huge campfire and told ghost stories. The flickering embers casting shadows into the trees which surrounded us provided the perfect setting for being "scared out of our wits," as we used to put it. There was nothing quite like being frightened, with disturbed spirits in and around us, only to turn and laugh about how we had acted. Of course, these days the motion picture industry, courtesy of special effects and those nearly demonic storylines, has turned our simple ghost stories into extremely terrifying experiences.
We welcome and pursue such disturbances -- up to a point. We even will tolerate and, for some deep unknown reason, like to be scared, -- but only for a fleeting, controlled moment. But when those intrusions begin to upset and force us to reevaluate our lives we cease to be amused and entertained. When more than a momentary thrill or scare is involved, the disruptions become serious matters. Life turns upside down, with no benefit of a seat belt, and it feels as if we tumble helplessly through time and space. Slivers of glass are found in jars of baby food. Poison appears in capsules. An alleged serial killer stalks the neighborhood. Suddenly the disturbances take on a new character. When our convictions are challenged, when our viewpoints are refocused, and when our beliefs come under decisive questioning, the grins disappear and the fun stops.
One of the least frightening, and perhaps most predictable, things in our lives is our concept of Jesus. For the most part our images of Jesus are inherited from our childhood Sunday school days. They tend to be quiet, pastoral images: holding a child, picking up lambs, walking peacefully through a grain field ripe for harvesting, sitting beside the road under the shade of a tree. About the only non-pastoral scene recorded for us involved a whip in the temple, but we quickly explain that one away and dismiss it as righteous indignation.
Certainly there are a few of his statements and teachings that bother us. We are not really all that comfortable praying for and loving our enemies, nor with turning the other cheek. Such lessons cause us to jump a bit and to catch our breath for a moment. But we balance those words with talk of loving our family, and tending to the needs of our neighbor, and we can, therefore, remain rather comfortable. Life can go on as usual, having enjoyed our momentary distraction.
Then all of a sudden it happens. From out of nowhere we are hit with a major interruption and knocked out of our seats. It is an encounter with a word from which we will not easily recover. There are many passages in the Bible I would just as soon not be there. I have a hunch if you thought for a few moments, you would come up with a few of your own. The text for this morning is one of those major disturbing, frightening passages. If you have not read it lately, then brace yourself for you may be in for quite a shock. Buckle your seat belt, for this one may throw you for a loop!
"Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I have come to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; and one's foes will be members of one's own household. Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it (Matthew 10:34-39, NRSV)."
On the surface, that would not be a good text to read if you were on a recruiting visit for the church and trying to attract new persons to the Christian faith. The church is, we think, to be in the business of good news, and this passage sounds like anything but good. Why would anyone want to cast their lot with a group that will destroy some of the most important relationships one can have? In contrast to such a passage, we have tried to make church membership seem attractive: why, it's easy to be a member; it's lots of fun down at this place; let's attract young people, entertain them, keep them happy, and thus add to our roll books; this place makes you feel good!
Here is a text that makes Jesus sound like a homewrecker and those who choose to follow him appear to be losers. Now that bothers me; it disturbs me to the point of wanting to rid myself of a passage such as this. But here it is and it will not go away. So what is it that Jesus is trying to tell us? I believe I hear him saying at least two things.
The first is this: loyalty to Christ will upset the normal routine. We cannot go on with business as usual, we cannot be content with the status quo as we have known and experienced it once we have responded in faith to the grace of God in Christ Jesus. If we are to remain loyal to Christ, even our family relationships may be altered, and conflict may result among those who are special to us.
This text reminds us that our faith in Christ is not just one among many other things we do in this life. Too many people think to themselves: "Let's see, as I grow up there are a few things I must do: get an education, find a job, discover the right mate for life, have children, join the club, play all the business games, join a church, and save for retirement." The mistaken belief that such thoughts generate is that joining the church and claiming faith is simply part of the maturing process. "Just add Jesus" seems to be the slogan many modern churchgoers live by. We can go on pretty much as we have been, doing what we want to do, and "just add Jesus."
But if I hear Jesus correctly, for the person who chooses to believe in and then be loyal to Christ, their relationships with others will take on a different character, a new quality which may, in turn, bring them into conflict with the accepted ways the world suggests we relate. The call to follow Christ is a radical call that challenges us to take stock of our priorities, and of what we consider important in our living. Inevitably this will create tensions and struggles as we strive to be faithful and, at the same time, survive in the world. Perhaps one of the grave injustices we Westernized Christians have done to the gospel, and to such a call as this, is to water it down in order to make it more palatable. In so doing, we have lost this radical notion of living in another world, with another world view that brings us into conflict with the norms and standards of this world. How was it the Apostle Paul put it in Romans? "Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind."
That word of Paul brings us to the other disturbing notion which Jesus emphasizes in this text -- that of being a loser. The world celebrates winners; the crown goes to the victor; the winner takes all. Yet here is the word about losing ourselves and no one wants to be lost, to be a loser, to come in second, to be the also-ran! I definitely do not, for losing goes against my grain. And, as I am often reminded by those who check the statistics, a part of my responsibility as an ordained clergy-person is to help those who are lost get found!
Here is, without a doubt, one of the great paradoxes of the Bible. In order to be found, we first must be lost; to be first, we must be last; to be great, we must be servant. It is a call, I believe, to lose our "selves" in the divine "self" of God.
We have a tendency to get absorbed in the latest fads and the latest gimmicks which appear on the market. I know persons who get so caught up in sports, in jogging, in the latest "never fail" diet, or in the most recent fashion craze, that their lives lose meaning if they are not involved in or do not own what is called for. This is not to suggest that these things are necessarily evil, only that when we become obsessed with them that we lose our identity apart from them, then we have, in essence, "lost" our lives.
Another way to look at this is to realize that we have become a very "addictive" society, to use a word that is so generally overused that we have lost sight of its meaning. To believe that our lives are worthless without a certain possession and go all out, sparing no expenses until we have it; to mistakenly conclude that life is not worth living unless we look like, or resemble the newest hot sensational personality; to live only from one fix to the next whether it is food or drug, exercise or transportation vehicle is to miss life itself. Such addictions are visible signs of the basic self-centered nature that so dominates our living, deciding and value-making.
Here Jesus calls us to throw that self to the wind and wrap ourselves, instead, in the grace of God's divine self. We lost that which does not make for life, that which is, finally, destructive both of our lives and of others, and discover that our true life is found in the love of God. Two centuries ago, Charles Wesley captured the heart of this in what has become one of the great hymns of the church. The final stanza of "Love Divine, All Loves Excelling" calls us to get lost:
Finish, then, thy new creation
Pure and spotless let us be.
Let us see thy great salvation
Perfectly restored in thee:
Changed from glory into glory,
Till in heaven we take our place;
Till we cast our crowns before thee,
Lost in wonder, love and praise.
Like this text from Matthew, Wesley challenges us to lose ourselves in God, to lose ourselves in the wonder of a new relationship that brings with it a new creation of life, by the grace of God.
In our kind of world, these are rather harsh words from the one who advocated love and lived by grace. That our relationships with those who are closest to us may take on new character, and that we must lose some things we have come to count on are not our idea of what life is all about. Such disturbing comments shake us. Perhaps they will shake us out of our easygoing complacent expressions of the faith to the point where we begin to take seriously the call to radical discipleship. It may mean a drastic change in our patterns of living, and that may bother us. But such conversion will also bring the assurance that we are living as faithful followers of the One who called us to walk with him to Calvary and beyond.
