Sticker Shock
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
[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
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