DISCIPLESHIP DUES

Luke 14: 25-33

            If you’re a builder, you generally quote a project in one of two ways. Either you bill for time and materials, meaning that you charge for the labor and materials used plus a percentage of that cost to cover your time, or you charge a fixed, or “turnkey,” price. Time and materials is safer. Your time is covered through a percentage of the project cost. Turnkey takes more knowledge. You had better cost your labor and materials accurately or your profit might disappear in inaccurate estimates.

Whether you’re a CEO or a gunnery sergeant or a school teacher, you spend time in logistics. You have to properly allocate resources, both human and material, if you want to be around at the finish line. The apostle Paul made many references to runners and races and sports competitions. He would be the first to caution that a distance runner must measure the cost of a long distance race on his endurance. A race run too fast in the beginning leaves nothing for the finish. So ultimately, success is directly connected to a realistic estimate of the ultimate cost, both materially and personally, of the job to be done.

          Once an estimate is completed and once we are satisfied that it is realistic, then is the time for decisions.  Whether we call it a materials list or an estimate or a cost takeoff or just a “to do” list, we use that information to help us make our decision. Sometimes, the information makes us realize that the cost is just too much to pay for the limited return that is foreseen. Sometimes, such information forces us to recognize that it is only an estimate, that there still remain many unknowns that cannot be accurately forecast. Sometimes, no matter what the information reveals, the project is just so important, so life-changing, that it requires intense and even risky decisions on our part.  In these instances, a conscious advance commitment must be made.

          Jesus’ ministry attracted large crowds. Not all the people following him were disciples. Many followed him to see what miracle he would do next. Rumors abounded that he might be Messiah. Was he the Promised One? Would he lead the revolt against Israel’s oppressors? Were the Jews about to become prominent again, a player on the world stage? These were the kinds of questions that caused many to continue to follow Jesus.

Of course, Jesus had already named his Apostles. There were probably quite a few more faithful followers whom we might call his disciples. But the crowds, and there were large crowds…that was a different story.

In today’s passage, Jesus has just explained the importance of humility and unselfishness through his parable of the great banquet. Now he warns those who think they would follow him that there is a cost to such discipleship.

It is the Near Eastern method of description to over exaggerate. Jesus speaks in the customs of his time when he describes the severe cost of discipleship by calling upon true disciples to leave their own fathers, mothers, wives and children for his sake. He is not being literal, although in the case of differing belief systems, it may well come to that. Rather, Jesus is saying that the decision to follow him will affect all relationships one has. He is saying that to follow him means very literally to put him first, to make him our first priority.

It takes some real growth and some Godly discernment to make such a move. We are raised to take care of our own. We look after our families. We feed and clothe and nurse our loved ones. This is God’s way, isn’t it? Yes, it is. So when Jesus tells the crowds that discipleship comes at a cost, he looks for a comparison that will get their attention. Comparison to family, the strongest relationship with which they can relate, makes that cost comparison. It is high. When Jesus uses this comparison, the average guy in that crowd can begin to see that the cost estimate for discipleship is very high and that the decision involves a conscious advance commitment.

Jesus goes on to give a couple more examples. He talks about the builder costing a tower before he starts to build. To fail to do so accurately will both leave the tower incomplete and the builder subject to the ridicule of his neighbors. And then there is the king who has the foresight to scout his enemy’s strength before he commits an inferior force to a battle it cannot win. Each must weigh the cost in order to make a decision about commitment.

Having explained how it works, Jesus then levels the crowd. What does it take to follow Jesus? In the Army, it’s usually a three to six year commitment. In a full time job, it’s about forty hours a week. Even in marriage, there is a time and place for being alone, for being able to pursue one’s own hobbies and talents. But what about discipleship? Well, says Jesus, “any one of you who does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple.”

Does this mean that we have to give up everything? All our possessions? That may be appropriate in some cases, but I think that it’s more likely that Jesus meant for us to become stewards of our possessions, willing to apply them for use in God’s kingdom rather than hoarding them like the rich farmer did in building more barns in which to house his crops. Wealth is a wonderful advantage when used to advance God’s kingdom. That takes stewardship and planning in order to be a good disciple.

As you know, it wasn’t all that long before those big crowds began to peel away. The cost of discipleship was, and still is, high. It was just too much for many who listened, only to turn away and go back home. Jesus said, “bear your own cross and come after me or you cannot be my disciple.”

Thank God that some stayed. Thank God that Jesus’ invitation was accepted by his Apostles and other disciples. Thank God that throughout the ages, people have heard this call, weighed the cost and committed in advance to whatever the road to the cross may take.

In this so-called Post-Christian age, we daily confront a watered down approach to our faith. We are told we must be inclusionary. We are reminded that God’s grace can accommodate us all. We are encouraged to feel good as we welcome people of all faiths into a country where personal freedom is our watchword and the rights of the minority are protected regardless of the extent to which they may infringe upon those of the majority. We are, more and more, a country of individuals bound together by a bundle of rights which permit our diversity, but ignore our core values.

Jesus would be a rebel were he walking the streets of America today. I have no doubt he would be heard because he is the Son of God and even a nation full of individuals would still be attracted to a rebel with a cause and with such a unique pedigree.  I think he would largely ignore what goes on or doesn’t go on at the White House and in the halls of Congress, but I’m afraid he would have a hard time with the church. After all, it is his bride. He is its Head. It says so right in our Book of Order, our Church Constitution.  What he would mostly find, I’m afraid, is a group of mostly well-meaning folks who are not at all prepared to renounce all that they have in order to follow him.

At seminary this weekend, I heard a story of a minister who recently left a church to which he had been called. He left because his church leaders wouldn’t back him up over an issue. The issue was whether to allow two church members to continue to be members when they were living together out of wedlock.  In this particular church, members were required to take vows at the time they joined the church to try to live in accordance with the ordinances of the Christian religion. The ordinances of the Christian religion do not condone living together out of wedlock.

Bear in mind that we are not talking here about attending church. Attending church is for everyone from seeker to saint. But once one is ready for membership in the body of Christ, there are commitments to be made. To join the church requires a Profession of Faith and with that comes discipleship. There will be dues to be paid for that discipleship.

          The minister counseled the members and encouraged them to marry if they wished to commit to each other and remain members of the church. The couple left the church. Throughout the process, the minister continued to receive the cold shoulder and was never supported by the church leadership.

That minister paid a heavy price for the discipleship he brought to that congregation. He put discipleship before popularity. He articulated the Bible’s teachings instead of diluting them for the sake of membership. He paid his discipleship dues, but did the church?

How would I handle the same issue, or other issues like it, in this church? How would the leadership of this church respond to me if I chose to follow the clear teachings of the Scriptures instead of modern convention? How would this church respond as a congregation?

What is our duty as members? The Westminster Confession of Faith, one of the confessions which comprise Part Two of our Church Constitution, says this:

All believers are, therefore, under obligation to

sustain the ordinances of the Christian religion where

they are already established, and to contribute by their prayers, gifts, and personal efforts to the extension of the Kingdom of Christ throughout the whole earth.

(WCoF, 6.056)

The cost of discipleship can be heavy. Indeed, it can cost you your job, your friends, even your life. The real cost of discipleship is everything you have, every day you live. Salvation is free, but it’s not cheap. Jesus calls upon us to take up the cross. To do so, we must come to him in faith. Faith involves risk. We will not know all the answers up front, but we do know the outcome.

Yes, discipleship dues are demanding, sometimes in the extreme.  But non-discipleship also comes with a cost. It, too, is heavy. It is separation from our Creator God for eternity.  Think about it. When compared to the alternative, God’s grace is still the best buy on earth!

           

Let us pray.        

9/15/13

A Heavenly Seating Chart

Luke 14: 1-14

            There is an idiom used to describe going from a bad situation to a worse one. We know it as jumping from the frying pan into the fire. We think of it as another Southernism, but actually it is hundreds of years older. An Italian fella named Abstemius wrote a collection of 100 fables in the fifteenth century. One of them was called The Mountain in Labour. In the fable some fish are thrown into a frying pan of boiling fat. One of them urges the others to save their lives by jumping out, so they do…right into a bed of burning coals.

           I suspect that’s about the way Jesus felt when he showed up for supper at the house of a Pharisee on the Sabbath. It was one thing to deal with all these religious rule-givers in the Temple and in the streets, but to come into the home of one of these lawyers? And on the Sabbath to boot! That’s going from bad to worse.

          Unlike those poor old fish, Jesus knew exactly what he was doing. He knew why he had been invited. He knew he was being watched. But then, Jesus was always being watched, wasn’t he. Jesus lived a very public life in his years of ministry. The times he is found alone in Scripture, he is usually engaged in prayer.

          A man at the Pharisee’s house has dropsy. This is suspicious. Why is a man with dropsy at the house of a Pharisee at the supper hour? His presence is suspicious enough that some scholars think he was planted there, designed to trick Jesus into “working” on the Sabbath. The Pharisees had more rules than Old Mother Hubbard had children. William Barclay gives us an example: Cooking food on the Sabbath was work, so it had to be prepared the previous day. Keeping the food hot was tricky, for most methods involved work. It could be put into “clothes, amidst fruits, pigeons’ feathers and flax tow,” but it could not be put into “oil dregs, manure, salt, chalk or sand.” There is much more, but you get the idea. No wonder Jesus got fed up with their rule making.

          It is into this atmosphere that Jesus asks the question. “Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath, or not?” He got no answer, of course. He healed the guy and sent him on his way. Then Jesus gave us that famous saying that we all have used to explain ourselves. To paraphrase him, if your ox is in the ditch on the Sabbath, aren’t you going to pull him out? The Pharisees remained silent.

          Healing on the Sabbath was a major issue between Jesus and the religious leaders. It occurs seven different times in the Gospels, four in Luke. Here is Jesus in the house of a Pharisee, a ruling Pharisee no less, and the issue comes up again. What should this teach us? Is it about working on the Sabbath? Is it about keeping the Fourth Commandment? Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy. It certainly could be. It probably is. But I think it is about something much more fundamental as well. Rules had been made hundreds of years before. Don’t murder, don’t steal, don’t covet, don’t be disloyal to your marriage vows and your spouse. Do love, obey and honor God. Do honor your parents. The rules were made to show us the difference between right and wrong, to keep us on the playing field and not let us run out of bounds.

          Over time, religious leaders had distorted the original intent of some simple rules. When Jesus came, he threatened that way of life. He had every intention of doing just that. The rules had become the reason. Rules are never meant to be reasons. They don’t know how. They bring order, but even order can be too much of a good thing. What Jesus brought was the reason. Isn’t it a shame that the religious leaders of the day couldn’t see the reason!

          If you step back a bit and just take a look at Chapter 14 of Luke’s gospel, it’s not hard to see that it is a lesson on discipleship. Discipleship is a simple idea. Follow in the footsteps of another. In this case it’s Jesus. Follow Jesus. To do so means to release all those selfish ambitions and desires. To do so means to be obedient. To do so means to replace pride with love.

          In this passage, Jesus takes direct aim at those who call themselves leaders and use that leadership to show off or climb the social ladder. If you’re going to impress the Son of God, you can start by going to the end of the line. He doesn’t like religious snobs. Honor for Jesus starts with humility. The way to the front lies at the back. G.K. Chesterton describes humility this way: “All men are ordinary men; the extraordinary men are those who know it.” The message is profound. “When your host comes…” says Jesus. “When your host comes…”  Luke does not call him God in deference to the Jewish custom of not using God’s name, but there is no doubt about the identity of the host to whom Jesus refers. Jesus is not talking about Pharisees or religious rulers or judges or even emperors and kings. Jesus is talking about his Father and our Father. When God comes, says Jesus, let him be pleased at your humility and your love. It will be its own reward.

          Then Luke tells us another story about Jesus. If you want to follow Jesus, you have to get upside down and inside out. Jesus doesn’t do business with the world the way the world wants to do business. Jesus tells a parable of a great banquet. Think big. Think about a family reunion or a wedding rehearsal dinner. Who do you invite? Family of course, and friends. You invite some folks who will invite you to something later. You hire the best to entertain the best way for those who are your best. Right? Wrong, says Jesus. Want a blessing? Don’t worry about who will return the favor. Think big, but think the way Jesus does. If you have a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame and the blind. Invite the invisible among us, the ones who can do you no good whatsoever in the here and now. In the world to come, in the resurrection of the just, as Jesus puts it, there you will be repaid. In other words, invite and entertain with generosity and an eye to those who need your generosity. Forget what it does for you and think of what it might do for someone else.

In Pharisaic religion, these disenfranchised people were excluded from full participation in religious life. Not so with Jesus. Jesus was all about accepting the unacceptable, eating with the unknown, loving the unloved among us. You can’t read this passage without eventually noticing that the attitude of the religious leaders was no better than that of pagans. Both were forms of religious snobbery and both were part of Jesus’ message that observing the Sabbath is a love act and not a ritual.

          My wife, Cindy, who sometimes acts as my sermon barometer, asks if this means that we can’t get together with friends and loved ones. I don’t think that was what Jesus meant. I think that he was reminding selfish people of their selfishness. I think he was reiterating the great commandment. He wants us to love our neighbor and to do so unselfishly. He wants us to know no strangers. He want us to do what he would do, to act with the welfare of the other person foremost rather than to invite someone for the purpose of social climbing and self-interest. In the world of Jesus, family gets extended by acts of love that forever bring more of us into the fold.

          Is there a message here for me and you? Of course. I am persuaded that there is not a single passage in the Bible that does not carry a message. Sometime that message remains veiled to us until the right time comes along. Sometimes it screams at us to change, to come, to see the light that is always there.

In this passage, Jesus speaks to you and me. He speaks to the Pharisee in me, the rule maker in you, the immature snobbery that all of us carry like a parasite. He speaks to the church, that body of people who represent him and carry his message until he returns. We are his church, but sometimes our selfishness and stubbornness surfaces over ritual, such as a change in the worship service. Sometimes it shows up in the form of some prejudice toward our neighbor. Sometimes it just smolders in our bellies as we become pregnant with self pride. It would be nice to puff up and make fun of those silly Pharisees, but it would not be accurate, not unless we include ourselves in that number as well.

          How do you practice the Sabbath? Do you keep it holy? Who will you invite to your banquet? How will you seat your guests? Does your seating chart include someone whom Jesus would have you invite? When Jesus comes, will he find you his humble servant? Practicing discipleship is humbling and never-ending. And it always starts at the end of the line.