Truth or Consequence

Truth or Consequence

Micah 6:6-8

Luke 16:19-31

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Not many make the cover of Time magazine, and only a few ever see the initials C.E.O. engraved above their names. A handful may make it to the White House, but most of us live common ordinary everyday lives.  Our jobs are defined by routine.

For the most part, we don’t believe we’re anything special, so we sometimes assume what we do and how we live, in the greater scheme of things, are pretty insignificant.  It doesn’t really matter.  Today’s scripture demonstrates that what we do does matter to God.  In fact, it has a consequence that can be eternal.

Lord, we live in fearful times where events beyond our control influence our calendars and balance sheets.  In uncertain days fear often forms our future and we retrench and pull back.  You have said, “Perfect love casts out all fear.”<!--[if !supportFootnotes]-->[1]<!--[endif]-->  Surround us with your perfect love that our fears may not control us, but that we might overcome them; through Jesus Christ we pray.  Amen.

The story reads like the beginning of Dickens’ Christmas Carol when Jacob Marley came back from the grave, as a ghost wrapped in chains forged by his life of greed, to warn his business partner, Ebenezer Scrooge that he better change his wicked ways before it is too late.  Dickens creates the ghosts of Christmas’, past, present, and future to lead Scrooge to repentance.  It works, of course, and Scrooge hardened heart is softened and he redeems his profligate life by rescuing Tiny Tim and paying for his operation. It has a happy ending, which is why it is revisited every Christmas season.

But, what ever happened to Jacob Marley?  The last we see of him, he flies out of Scrooge’s window to forever wander the nether world as a spirit bound by chains forged from his own sin.  For him it was too late.  He lived and died grasping for more so ended up with nothing but regret for a life misspent.  That is where this story echoes Jesus’ parable.

“"There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and who feasted sumptuously every day.”<!--[if !supportFootnotes]-->[2]<!--[endif]-->  How he got that way Jesus did not say, but there’s no indication it was through ill-gotten gain.  Jesus does not tell us he was a crook or a drug lord.  He may have just been frugal and hardworking and lucky so wealth followed.  What matters in this story is not how he got rich, but rather what he does with what he has.

One of the things he clearly does not do is care for, or even pay the slightest attention to a beggar named Lazarus who was plopped unceremoniously outside of his security gate.   Lazarus is his polar opposite.  He is “homeless, poor, hungry, and covered with sores”. It got so bad even the dogs “would come and lick from his sores.”

Now, Lazarus was not holding a sign, “Down with the Rich” or pleading for socialist reform.  All he wanted was table scraps, but there is no indication he got any from the rich man. He does not respond to this need in any obvious way.  So, we don’t know if he thought Lazarus to be lazy.  We don’t know if he thought Lazarus should just pull himself up by his bootstraps.  We don’t know if he thought Lazarus was just getting what he deserved.  The text doesn’t say.

            Because of the absence of any reaction, I’m inclined to think that Lazarus did not even rise to the level of meriting his pity or disdain.  I don’t think he even saw him.  Lazarus didn’t register on his radar screen.  He was not a person whom you like or dislike.  Lazarus was to him more an object than a person with hopes and dreams, thoughts and feelings. He was like a mud puddle that you step over without thinking.

            The reason I say that is because of the scene that followed.  The rich man died.  Lazarus died.  Lazarus went to heaven.  The rich man did not, and this he did not foresee.  His financial plan went well into his retirement years, but not beyond. He had prepared for the golden years, but not for those that are eternal. He never considered that the investment of his time, talent, or treasure in this life might have everlasting returns.  He didn’t think his attitudes and actions in this life would matter in the next, would make a difference.  His vision began and ended with his birth and death.

            But, now he is in the beyond and he doesn’t like it. There are no horns or pitchforks in this picture, no cartoon characters. Hell is described in Jesus’ parable as a torment, and although there is mention of flames and a parched tongue, the real agony seems to lie in his awareness that he no longer occupies the top rung of the ladder, but has now fallen to the bottom. 

Hell is hell because of great chasm that blocks him from being where he wants to be.  His frustration is that he is no longer in control.  He has no choice.  While he was alive there was hope, a chance for repentance and so redemption.  He could choose to live differently. But, now he’s stuck.    In this endgame there is only a void – an emptiness created because God is absent from this condition.

He immediately appeals to a higher court for relief, but finds this judgment final. So, he lowers his sights and demands Lazarus be sent to bring him at the very least a cup of cold water.

            Note, even after God’s judgment, which was pretty clear about who was deserving of heaven and hell, the rich man still tries to command.  He treats Lazarus as a servant who exists only to perform a function. Even now, he still doesn’t get it.  He is still oblivious as to why he is where he is and Lazarus is where Lazarus is.

            His narrow vision broadens out a bit, but only a bit.  When he understands that there is a chasm between heaven and hell, and that he is stuck where he is; he demands that Lazarus go back and warn his brothers, who are still alive, but only his brothers.  Evidently, as far as he is concerned the rest of the world can to hell, but he does have a soft spot for his family. He’d like them to escape his fate. 

When the rich man asks Abraham to send Lazarus to warn his brothers; Abraham shrugs his shoulders and throws up his hands and says, “It won’t do any good.”

            He knows this because Moses and the prophets have been singing this same song from day one.  He knows this because Isaiah prophesied that a suffering servant would bear our grief and carry our sorrows that he would be wounded for our transgressions, and bruised for our iniquities, and still people didn’t see.<!--[if !supportFootnotes]-->[3]<!--[endif]-->  He knew this because Job had seen vision and said, “I know that my redeemer lives, and I shall see God”, and still people did not believe.<!--[if !supportFootnotes]-->[4]<!--[endif]-->  Abraham knew that some people will have “eyes to see and ears to hear and some will not.”<!--[if !supportFootnotes]-->[5]<!--[endif]-->   Some lift their eyes to the horizon and others just stare at their feet.  Some harden their hearts and like it that way, but some don’t.  They do want to change, but can’t.

            It is hard because the experiences of your life have shaped and formed that view. You used to be more generous, more compassionate, but too many times you’ve discovered that someone who looked like Lazarus was just running a con.  You tried to help, but later found out the hard luck story was a lie and so you felt used and betrayed.  Next time, you tell yourself you’ll be more careful.  If you’re burned again, then the temptation is strong to just give up.  Better to be safe than sorry.  You just can’t tell yourself you haven’t seen what you’ve clearly seen.

            I saw an example I was traveling with a group from the church I served at that time.  We were in Rome right outside the Coliseum and came across a bent-over woman covered from head to toe with a ratty black shawl, leaning feebly on a cane, and holding out a beggar’s cup.  She looked like a character from a Dickens novel.  I thought her pitiful appearance was too perfect, but some of were reaching for some money when one of the women in our group noticed the beggar was carrying a brand new Gucci handbag that would have cost several hundred dollars.  So, we put our money back and our guard up.  Those who are really destitute don’t pay two hundred dollars for a purse.

            Looking at life through rose-colored glasses may be foolish, but shutting yourself off like Ebenezer Scrooge can also have dire consequence. So, what can you do?  What if you want to change, but can’t.  What softens hardened hearts?  Where does repentance come from?

            It comes from the recognition that sometimes you are more like Lazarus than the rich man.  We are all subject to life’s hard knocks no matter how big our investment portfolio is.   Even though most of our lives most of the time more resemble the rich man than Lazarus, there are moments when we feel just as downtrodden as that beggar, times when we also have no control over our fate.

            All it takes is a doctor’s dire diagnosis, or a pink slip included with your check, or a note on the mantle telling you your marriage is over.  All it takes in an unexplainable depression or a bottle you just can’t seem to put down.  Then you understand that you are not the “captain of your ship and the master of your fate.”  Then you better empathize with those who are clawing for some scraps to sustain their lives.  Then you understand some do not have the ability to pull themselves up by their bootstraps, and not everyone is running a con.

            Repentance comes from the recognition that you are not doing as well as you thought you were.  You are not as righteous or right, not as caring or compassionate, not as close to God.  This revelation, more often than not, follows some kind of personal challenge calls unto question the beliefs you once valued.

Comedian Richard Pryor got that wake-up call when he was critically burned in an accident in 1980. Appearing later on the "Johnny Carson Show," he said that when you are really hurting, money isn't important.  He said, “When I was running down the street and my clothes were on fire, all that I could think to do was to call on God. I didn't call out for the Bank of America once."<!--[if !supportFootnotes]-->[6]<!--[endif]-->

When Jesus said, “it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God”, even Peter who was never the sharpest knife in the drawer observed, “Who then can be saved?”<!--[if !supportFootnotes]-->[7]<!--[endif]--> 

He knew that everyone’s bottom line has meaning only in relationship to others.  There will always be people who have more than you do and there will always be people who have less.  Trying to figure out how much you can own and still get into heaven and how much you have to give away will befuddle even the best accountant.

            Clearly, it’s not the numbers that matter, but the attitude.  It is not the size of the portfolio that has value; it is the size of the heart.  It is not even the magnitude of a gift given to God that is important; it is the significance of the sacrifice.<!--[if !supportFootnotes]-->[8]<!--[endif]--> 

            I believe judgment fell upon rich man not because of his wealth, but because he did not lift his eyes above his own concerns.  I believe judgment fell upon him because he was blind to the opportunity for service that lay right outside his gate.  I believe judgment fell upon this rich man because he was unwilling to invest in a future unclouded by fear.

            That’s the key.  It is fear that drives us inward and clenches our fists and builds up walls. But, the Bible says, “Perfect loves casts out all fear.  For fear has to do with punishment, and the one who fears is not perfected in love.  We love because he first loved us.”<!--[if !supportFootnotes]-->[9]<!--[endif]-->

            Jesus Christ demonstrated that love and compassion through his life and death for anyone and everyone who has ever faced the same doubt that racked his soul at Gethsemane, or the sheer physical pain he suffered under the Good Friday lash, or the isolation he experienced on the cross when he cried out, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?”<!--[if !supportFootnotes]-->[10]<!--[endif]-->

            His perfect love casts out all fear.  It is our love for God more than our fear of hell that will bring us into the presence of his glory – and that’s what heaven is all about.

            What you do in this life does matter.  It makes a difference.  God remembers even small acts of kindness.  As long as there is life there is hope that hard hearts can be softened and the chains of greed and self-interest are broken.  So, pay attention to your checkbook and calendar and ask yourself, “Is there anything here for God?”  “Is there anything here for others?”  If not, ask yourself, “Why not?

            Let us pray:

            Long ago, the prophet asked, “What does the Lord require?”  Your answer was clear; “do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly.”<!--[if !supportFootnotes]-->[11]<!--[endif]-->  Grant us the vision and the will and the ability to live like that.  Help us see justice, kindness and humility in our attitudes and actions so that “whatever we do in word or deed, we do in the name of Jesus Christ.”<!--[if !supportFootnotes]-->[12]<!--[endif]-->  Amen.

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<!--[if !supportFootnotes]-->[1]<!--[endif]--> 1 John 4:18

<!--[if !supportFootnotes]-->[2]<!--[endif]--> Luke 16:19

<!--[if !supportFootnotes]-->[3]<!--[endif]--> Isaiah 53

<!--[if !supportFootnotes]-->[4]<!--[endif]--> Job 19:25

<!--[if !supportFootnotes]-->[5]<!--[endif]--> Mark 8:18

<!--[if !supportFootnotes]-->[6]<!--[endif]-->Graystone, Peter:  Ready Salted (Scripture Union, 1998), p. 114

<!--[if !supportFootnotes]-->[7]<!--[endif]--> Matthew 19:24

<!--[if !supportFootnotes]-->[8]<!--[endif]--> Luke 21:2

<!--[if !supportFootnotes]-->[9]<!--[endif]--> 1 John 4:18-19

<!--[if !supportFootnotes]-->[10]<!--[endif]--> Mark 14:34,66  Mark 15:33

<!--[if !supportFootnotes]-->[11]<!--[endif]--> Micah 6:8

<!--[if !supportFootnotes]-->[12]<!--[endif]--> Colossians 3:17

Lost and Found 

Luke 15:1-10

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            I don’t know if this has happened to you, but it has been happening to me with increasing frequency.  I turn on the T.V. and look for my far-away glasses so that I can see the game, but they are not in the case I carry them in, or I look for my close-up glasses to read the paper and they are not where they are supposed to be either.  That will send me on a grand search throughout the house to find what I need to see.  Sometimes that search becomes very frustrating because they are not to be found in their usual hiding places, but I need them so I keep looking, frantically searching until I find them in the strangest places…in the storage shed next to the lawnmower or in the basement on top of the water-heater.  Now, I know that I did not put them there, so they must have crawled up there all by themselves.   

            When I finally find them I rejoice and promise myself that I will always keep them in their cases and the cases on the counter where I put my other important stuff, but I know it’s going to happen again. 

            Today’s scripture is about losing and finding and rejoicing when you do.  Before we turn to God’s Word, let us turn to him in prayer: 

God of hope, remind us again and again that where there is life, there is hope.  Return those who have drifted far from you, and use us as your instruments of grace to that end.  Let our lives reflect the hope that comes from knowing you are still Lord.  Amen.

It was a complaint Jesus heard often.  “This man receives sinners and eats with them.”[1] 

 Of all the problems the Pharisees had with Jesus, and the list was long, this one, “He eats with tax-collectors and sinners” seemed to have bothered them the most.

 Why would they care?  Why would it matter to them who Jesus broke bread with?

            Meals were big back then - almost sacred.  More than food was shared.  Affirmation and acceptance were also offered.  Breaking bread was a symbol of community.  So you thought long and hard about which dinner invitations you accepted because you would be identified and linked with that crowd.  Like High School cliques that divide the popular from the rest, these small towns had their own pecking order.    

             For the Pharisees, the criteria for judgment followed tradition and God’s Commandments, as they understood them. In fact, some think the word Pharisee means, “separated”; because they withdrew from those they thought a bad influence.  Their biggest fear was that one bad apple might spoil the whole barrel so their solution, to mix my metaphors, was to circle the wagons. 

Since some of their neighbors worshipped gods that seemed so much different than their own, or they didn’t worship at all and ignored the commandments of God; they thought it best to just avoid them so they don’t pollute or dilute the faith community.  Better to keep these sinners at bay.

            This notion of building walls is tempting.  They make us feel secure.  They insure that our kind-of-people are protected from other kinds-of- people.  Parents monitor their children’s friendships with the hope of keeping them away from those they see as a bad influence. Homeowner associations create covenants to protect property values.  And even churches erect invisible barriers that let some people know they are not really welcome. Birds of a feather do flock together.

            Jesus understood this, but he did not share this view. His desire is not to shut sinners out.  It is to save them.  It is not to send them to hell; it is to usher them into heaven.  Jesus said, “I did not come into the world to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved.”[2]   Jesus said, “I have come to seek and save the lost.”[3]   As long as there is life, there is hope.  Jesus will not give up.  He will not give up! 

            If it means he has to sift through the rubble of people’s lives – that’s what he’ll do.  If it means he has to go into dangerous places – that’s where he will go.  If it means he must give up his life – give it up he did

            He began with a question:  “Which of you, having a hundred sheep, if he has lost one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness, and go after the one that is lost, until he finds it?”[4]  Clearly, Jesus thinks the answer is an obvious, “Of course you go and find the lost lamb”, but I’m not so sure everyone in his audience would agree.  Would you?  Would you leave the ninety-nine to wolves and coyotes and God-knows-what-else to go traipsing after the one who wasn’t paying any attention to where he was going, who was just wandering from one tuft of grass to the next?

            Some might conclude it would be better to just cut your losses in order to protect the rest. That was the cost of doing business. That was the Pharisee view. Sometimes you have to make tough decisions and if that means you give up on the tax collectors and sinners to protect those who are following the rules and trying to live a good life – then that’s what you do.

 

            But, Jesus’ Good Shepherd doesn’t do that.  He goes.  He leaves the ninety-nine and goes looking for the one.  When he finds it, what does he do?  He picks it up and drapes it across his shoulder.  Where does he go?  Does he go back to the rest of the flock?  No.  The Bible says, “He goes home.”  He carries the lamb home.  There is no further mention of the ninety-nine.  As far as we know, they are still grazing somewhere in the wilderness waiting for the shepherd to return.

            Jesus has divided the flock in two parts: the one and the ninety-nine. So, the question naturally arises, whom do these two groups represent?  Some say the ninety-nine are the scribes and Pharisees and everyone else who thinks they’re doing pretty well in life, or at least better than the guy next door.  The ninety-nine are like the older brother in the parable of the Prodigal Son that immediately follows.  He’s the one who did the chores and followed his father’s list of things to do.  The ninety-nine are the good sheep, the ones who never strayed.

The lost lamb then is the wayward son who squandered his inheritance of loose living, the one who left the Father. He’d fit right in with the tax collectors and sinners. They probably hung out at the same bar.

In this traditional understanding, Jesus just reversed the Pharisee judgment.  Instead of preserving the righteous and abandoning the sinner, it would appear Jesus seeks the sinner and leaves the self-righteous to themselves.  Jesus just came down on the other side of the fence.  But, we need to be careful with these parables.  They may look simple, but they are not simplistic.

One preacher has a different slant. Robert Capon said, “I think the real meaning of the one and the ninety-nine is that the one lost sheep represents the whole human race as it really is. And the ninety-nine who never get lost represents the whole human race as we think we are.”[5]  In other words we are both the one and the ninety-nine.

His view is that all of us have at one time or another been lost, but didn’t know it. Most of the time we think we’re doing pretty well.  We have all the bases covered.  We would never admit to being perfect, but we really don’t think we’re all that bad.  There’s others around us who look like us and act like us.  We’re in the middle of the flock just grazing on the hillside. We think we know where we are.

Page through the scriptures though and it appears God may not agree.  Paul put it this way:  “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.”[6]  “There is none who is righteous, not even one; there is no one who has understanding, there is no one who seeks God.”[7]  The Bible says, “We are all like sheep who have gone astray.”[8] That’s the way God sees us, but it’s not the way Christ leaves us.

God does not wait for us to ascend to heaven, or find ourselves, or straighten out our lives before he swings open the gate.  God left heaven in the form of a babe born in Bethlehem in order to come and find us.  This searching, seeking, and finding God is seen throughout the scriptures and especially in the life of Jesus Christ. 

 Many people have wandered from God.  They had no intention of doing so. They were baptized and raised in the church.  They went through the confirmation class; stood up before God and everybody and declared Jesus is Lord!  When they said this, they meant it.  If you ask them, they will say they believe it still. 

Somewhere along the way they wandered away from God.  There was nothing deliberate about it.  There was no intentional moment when they said, “I no longer believe in God.”  They just meandered from one sand castle to the next.  They were distracted by so many things that just flutter in the wind. Their attention was drawn to this and that and the other. After a while they drift far away from God – but don’t even know it. 

Until something happens – something cataclysmic shakes their foundations. Psalm 11 captured such a moment. “Someone wicked has bent the bow and let an arrow fly out of the dark.  The foundations (of great buildings) are shaken.”[9]  The thunder of a collapsing world shakes us out of our daydream. Then we see that much of what we invest our lives in are just sandcastles, here today and gone tomorrow. Then you may open your eyes and pray, “I need God! Come, Lord Jesus come.”[10]

 God is faithful and will answer a prayer like that. Jesus is eager to clear away the rubble that sometimes collapses around us.  He is willing to meet you where you are, even if, and especially if you are in a dangerous place.  He breaks bread with you every time we celebrate his Holy Supper because he believes as long as there is life there is hope. 

            In a moment we’re going to sing an old favorite which all of you know, but you may not know, as Paul Harvey used to say, “the rest of the story.”

John Newton was born in London July 24, 1725, the son of a commander of a merchant ship which sailed the Mediterranean. When John was eleven, he went to sea with his father.  After his father died he began service on a slave ship, which took him to the coast of Sierra Leone. He then became the servant of a slave trader and was brutally abused. Early in 1748 he was rescued by a sea captain who had known John's father. John Newton ultimately became captain of his own ship, one which plied the slave trade.

Although he had had some early religious instruction from his mother, who had died when he was a child, he had long since given up any religious convictions. However, on a homeward voyage, while he was attempting to steer the ship through a violent storm, he experienced what he was to refer to later as his "great deliverance." He recorded in his journal that when all seemed lost and the ship would surely sink, he exclaimed, "Lord, have mercy upon us." Later in his cabin he reflected on what he had said and began to believe that God had addressed him through the storm and that grace had begun to work for him.

For the rest of his life he observed the anniversary of May 10, 1748 as the day of his conversion, a day of humiliation in which he subjected his will to a higher power.  He wrote, through many a danger, toil, and snare I have already come; tis grace hath brought me safe thus far and grace will lead me home.

He left the sea and became a pastor. His church became so crowded during services that it had to be enlarged, but he will be forever remembered as the one who wrote these words:

Amazing grace! (how sweet the sound)
That sav'd a wretch like me!
I once was lost, but now am found,
Was blind, but now I see.

Lord, we know you hear the prayer of each one who cries out to you.  Let each one who calls upon the name of Jesus hear your answer in the “still small voice” spoken through the heart, see your answer in love stretched upon a cross, and feel your answer through the power of the Holy Spirit.  This we pray in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

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[1] Luke 15:2

[2] John 3:17

[3] Luke 19:10

[4] Luke 15:4

[5] Capon, Robert Farrar:  The Lost Sheep and the Lost Coin”.  December 29, 1996.

[6] Romans 3:21

[7] Romans 3:10

[8] 1 Peter 2:25

[9] Psalm 11:2-3

[10] Revelation 22:20

Sticker Shock

Luke 14:25-33

September 8, 2013

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          Maybe you’ve heard of poetic license?  When I graduated from seminary they gave me a preaching license, which entitles me to add a little oomph, a little pizzazz in the telling of stories.  (Maybe you’ve noticed.”  I’m not allowed to change the essential elements. I have to tell the truth, but I can choose words that will help you remember, and I can raise my inflection and maybe wave my arms or even pound the pulpit so you won’t forget. 

          When Jesus preached to the great congregation in the fourteenth chapter of Luke, I imagine there was a lot of discussion and maybe even arguments that bounced around the dinner table that night.  “Did you hear what he said?  We can’t follow him unless we hate, (that’s what he said) hate our own fathers and mothers, wives and children? What kind of family values is that?  Just before that, he said we’re supposed to love the poor, the lame, the blind, and the maimed.  We’re supposed to love strangers we find suspicious, but hate those people who are closest to us? This is all upside down.  That’s it.  Next week we’re looking for a different church! ”   

          That is pretty much what happened, because the crowds did begin to thin to the point that when Jesus finally gave his life upon the cross there was hardly anyone left.  Judas betrayed him, Peter denied him, and the rest just sank into the shadows. 

          It took a resurrection to bring them out into the light of day.  It took the outpouring of the Holy Spirit to send them into the marketplace with a message.  But, before the altar call is made, the preacher must remember to tell them to count the cost.  And if he has to use the radical hyperbole, “hate your own fathers and mothers”, so be it.  Salvation is too serious a matter to enter in lightly.  We all must work that out with “fear and trembling.”[1] 

          Let us pray: 

          Lord, so often we wonder, “is life supposed to be this hard?”  Faith, we assume, should make it easier, but it often seems more challenging.  Strengthen so that we may bear the crosses that weigh us down.  Grant your comfort when we feel along, your power when we feel weak, your guidance when we are confused, and your open arms when we are afraid.  Through Jesus and in Jesus we pray.  Amen.         

          For some people faith is wiggling their toes in the wading pool.  For others it is diving in the deep end.  When you say, “Jesus is Lord” you are giving up the freedom to do whatever you want whenever you want.  You are saying whatever Jesus wants, whenever he wants.  When you say, “Jesus is Lord” your life view is supposed to change.  You move from a me-first universe to a God-first universe, and these two look very different. 

          This was the one essential truth Jesus laid down.  It is the truth he wants you to pick up.  In the God-first universe faith cannot be lukewarm.[2]  There is a narrow way to follow.[3] 

          That is what Jesus is driving at with this “hate your mother and father” language.  He knows, respects and follows the fifth commandment to “honor your mother and father”.[4]  When he became a carpenter, it was out of respect for Joseph. The relationship between Jesus and Mary always shows him as being a dutiful son.[5]  Suspended from the cross his dying love for his mother was shown in the concern for her well-being.[6]  He made sure that she would be taken care of in his absence.  He tells John, “take care of her.” 

          Jesus love for her is without question, so what was he saying?  What did he mean?  I think the next verse answers that question.  “Whoever does not bear his own cross, cannot follow me?”   

          There comes a time when a decision for God must override the desire to preserve our own happiness and even our own lives.  When Jesus struggled with the idea of his own death in the Garden of Gethsemane, he prayed the prayer we all pray.  “Lord, there has to be another way.  This is too challenging.”  Life is not supposed to be this hard.  Let this cup pass from my lips.[7] 

          This is a prayer we can all understand.  In fact, it probably is the model for most of our prayers.  When we really add them up, most of the time we are really asking things that benefit ourselves, that will make us happy, and make life easier.  A lot of them spring from a me-first view of the universe. 

          Even our prayers that appear to be offered for others are often for us.  We pray for the welfare of those who are close to us because their presence fulfills our lives.  We want them to be well and happy because we cannot imagine our lives without them.  We cannot imagine letting them go, so we hold on as tightly as we can.  All the people that are important to us, and all the things that we value we desperately cling to. 

          To each and every one of us Jesus whispers, it is better to understand that all the people we hold dear and every thing we value is better preserved in the hands of God than they are in our own.  To each and every one of us Jesus whispers, the things that matter which we hold tightly in our fists eventually seep out.  Everyone that God holds in his hands is cared for forever. 

          This requires, as the old slogan goes, that we let go and let God.  That we finish our prayers as Jesus finally did, Not mine, but thy will be done.[8]  All of us know this is easier said than done. 

          I think most of us have the faith of a toddler just learning to walk.  Do you remember when your child took his first steps?  He climbed up the side of the sofa as if he were ascending a great mountain, and then held onto the coffee table for balance.  He walked along that table grinning from ear to ear, happy just to be off of his knees.  Then came that moment of reckoning when the coffee table ends and those first steps of faith begin.   

          You hold your hands out, just a few feet away from that table.  You call out to your little boy, “Come to Daddy!  You can do it!”  Your son looked at you with eyes filled with trust, but also clouded with fear.  He loves you.  He believes in you.  He knows that you would never leave him or forsake him.[9] 

          But, the table is so secure, and it feels safe in the palm of his hand.  The few feet between you and he look like a chasm.  He’s not sure what will happen if he lets go of the table.  He may fall. 

          There you are with open arms, “Come to Daddy!  You can do it.” 

          I think that’s where most of us are.  God is right in front of us.  We believe in God.  We have faith in God, but our trust is clouded by fear.  We don’t know what will happen if we let go of the things that make us feel safe.  We don’t know what will happen if we let go of the people that make us secure.  If we lose these things, or if we lose these people, we’re not sure what will happen?  We may fall! 

          Jesus knows how hard this is.  He does not take our fear lightly.  That’s why he says we must count the cost.  He points to an everyday example, one with which we are very familiar.  If you’re going to begin a construction project he said, you better do you homework.  You need to form a committee and study this.  You should to do a financial analysis, create a budget, get bids and pray you don’t run into bedrock where you don’t expect bedrock to be. 

          If you don’t do these things, Jesus said, you may get your project half way built and then run out of money.  What could be more embarrassing?  Everyone who passes by will make fun.  Believe me, this scripture has been on my mind every day of our building project?  We’ve done our homework, formed our committee, created a budget and prayed.  We’ve counted the cost, we’ve run the numbers a hundred times, but in construction costs are never carved in granite.  I continue to pray. 

          That, Jesus, said is what discipleship is about. It is about counting the cost and prayer. It is not always easy and sometimes it can be very hard.  That’s why he said, “if you do not renounce all things you cannot be my disciple?”[10] 

          Jesus evidently had not read the latest in church growth theory.  Popular among many churches today is the idea that the key to success is found in selling a no-muss, no-fuss faith.  One observer put it this way: 

          “Some churches, preachers and TV programs present the gospel as though they were selling a used car. No money down!  Attractive terms! Low, low, low, monthly payments!  They make it sound as easy as possible, as though no real commitment were required.”[11]

 

       In fact, I heard one preacher describe a tour he took of a large church in the Midwest that focused on attracting young twenty-something professionals.  As he walked around the facility he noticed there was not a single cross placed anywhere on the outside or inside of the building.  There was no cross on the steeple, or in the sanctuary.  

          He asked the Pastor of this Christian church why this important Christian symbol was not displayed.  He was told that the church had commissioned a professional market survey of their targeted audience and subsequently learned that the cross did not test well in that group.  They thought it demanded too much.  So, they told the architect to leave it off.  No crosses for this church.[12] 

          What these folks miss I think is the power of the cross.  There is nothing half-way about it.  The power is found in making a decision, of renouncing one way of life in order to embrace another.  People who have found the power to overcome addictions, for example, understand how important is the decision to renounce the bottle in order to begin the process of healing and recovery. 

          In fact, the first three steps of A.A.’s Twelve Step program could have provided the outline for this message.  That is to acknowledge first, that we all our powerless, and second that God has the power to restore, and finally we begin to touch that power as we let go of those things that gave us a sense of security. 

          In other words, we have to let go of the coffee table and walk into the waiting arms of our heavenly father.   We have to be willing to make the same vow with God that we made to our husbands and wives, and that is to forsake all others.   

          This is the first commandment, “no other gods”, which leads us to a God –first universe.[13]   Jesus was not looking for tag-alongs, for fair weather Christians. He was looking for total commitment, because he knew that middle-of-the-road theology could be dangerous.  

A little religion may be enough to make you feel guilty or inadequate, but not provide the cleansing power of forgiveness.  A little religion may lead you to self-righteousness and make you judgmental of others, but strand you far short of God’s grace.  A little religion may be just enough to inoculate you against the real thing. 

Although the view seems fine from the top of the fence, some time or another we have to get down on one side or another.   There comes a time when you have to stop wiggling your toes in the pool; when you have to get all the way in or just walk away.

That time may be right now, but I’m not going to ask you to raise your hand or come down the aisle and say “Jesus is my Lord.”  I want you to think about this, consider this, pray over this and count the cost.  Jesus said, “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.”[14]  I’d like you to really think about this, and ask yourself, am I really ready to leave my me-first universe and move to a God-first universe?  Am I ready to let go of the coffee table and trust God enough to take those first uncertain steps? 

I believe God is waiting for you with open arms, but you have to decide.  And when you do, we’ll be here to hear your profession of faith and to guide you in those first steps.  We’ll be here to help you carry your cross. 

Let us pray: 

          O Father, the first rule of Jesus’ life was to do your will.  Let this be the first rule of our lives.  Help us to follow it faithfully, so that in doing what you wish, we will glorify you.  Amen

 

 

         

 

         

 

         

 

         

 

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[1] Philippians 2:12

[2] Revelation 3:16

[3] Matthew 7:14

[4] Exodus 20:12

[5] John 2:1-11

[6] John 19:26

[7] Matthew 26:38

[8] Matthew 26:42

[9] Hebrews 13:5

[10] Luke 14:33

[11] The Gospel of Luke, The New Interpreter’s Bible, Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1995, pg 293.

[12] Robert Tewell, Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church

[13] Exodus 20:3

[14] Luke 9:62