Lost and Found

Luke 19: 1-10

            Remember when you lost it? The engagement ring…or the class ring. Maybe you lost something with which you had been entrusted. Remember that initial panic? Then the systematic search with no results. Finally the admission to someone what had happened and then more searching. Most of the time there is a happy ending. After all, lost usually just means misplaced. As you re-trace your steps, eventually that which was thought lost is retrieved. It was never really lost…just out of place.

           My wife is forever bringing me stuff from the lost and found basket at her work. She always waits until it’s time to either throw it out or take it home. You know the story: “one man’s trash…” I really appreciate all those forgetful people. They have enhanced my wardrobe.

          Sometimes today, and in Jesus’ day too, “lost” is the word used to connote the absence of purpose or direction or conviction. Sometimes ministers and evangelists talk about saving the “lost.”  By implication, I guess that means that those of us who are not “lost” must be “found.”

I’m not sure that on occasion, one can’t be a little bit of both. I know I have days when my belief in God may not be in question, but about everything else is. Does that make me lost? I guess it depends on one’s frame of reference.

          Today’s frame of reference involves a big wealthy city, a small wealthy man, a sycamore tree, and a Savior. The bit players are the Pharisees and other doubters. The scene moves from street to dinner table. These are the props and players. The story is salvation: where it is, what it is and what it isn’t.

          We think of a person as lost when he or she has wandered away from God. That’s fair enough, although I think we ought to expand the definition to include someone who has never really been introduced properly to God. Like rings and other lost things, we might say that when one is away from God, then he or she is misplaced. If that’s the case, then taking our rightful place with God would amount to being found.

           There are lots of misplaced people wandering around. The situation is more complicated than it first appears. Sometimes, those misplaced people, those lost people, are sitting right down front in church. We don’t have a list of those who are found and those who are not. If only we had some way to know who is and who isn’t. Then we could be more effective in our witness. Actually, Jesus had something to say about that. In fact, he had quite a lot to say about it. We can find some of that advice in the passage for today.

           The first ten verses of Luke 19 are a multi-colored palette of themes. There is the universal appeal of the gospel (vs.2-4), evidenced by the crowd that continues to follow Jesus. There is the ethical problem of wealth (v.2). We have seen this before in Jesus’ encounter with the rich young ruler. There is Jesus’ “call” of a person in social disfavor (v.7). The religious leaders called these people “sinners” and criticized Jesus for frequenting with them. There is the very real presence of urgency in the way that Jesus goes about injecting God’s presence into the scene (v.5, 9). There are also sub-themes of necessity, joy and outreach to the poor. All the themes and sub-themes work together to tell this story of the little man in the sycamore tree, the seeker. They tell a story of how he finds Jesus, but the real story is how Jesus finds him.

           Then there is Verse ten, considered by many to be the key verse of Luke’s gospel. Jesus states the reason for it all. It is often said that if you want your argument to be remembered, then you must observe the rules of primacy and regency. Put more simply, people will be more likely to remember the first and last things you said.  Let’s apply that to this passage. Jesus entered Jericho and was passing through. He came to seek and to save the lost.  Who was lost? Zacchaeus. Where was he? Lost in the crowd. Lost in his selfish life and pursuits. What did Jesus do? Seek him and save him. Why? To save someone. That’s the message of this passage, the message of Jesus. It is the message of salvation. Jesus says: “For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.”    

Jesus talks about money a lot in Luke’s gospel. He talks about it more than he talks about heaven and hell combined. The subject of money comes up once every seven verses in Luke. Eleven of his parables (39 total) contain some reference to money.  Remember the story of the rich young ruler? He had a lot of money and he just couldn’t deal with giving it up. Or the story of the Pharisee and the tax collector praying together? The Pharisee was rich with pride and the tax collector’s riches plagued him to ask forgiveness.  Now we have Zacchaeus, the chief tax collector. This is a guy at the top of the financial ladder. And yet, Jesus is about to hand him the keys to the kingdom. You see, it’s not about the money. It never was. It’s about our attitude with the money. Are we generous with what we have or do we horde and protect it as if it were our salvation and security? How we answer that question will have a lot to do with whether we meet Jesus. I’m afraid it applies equally at every financial level. Ask the widow who gave her last penny. The fact that she had little did not exempt her from her responsibility to give of that with which she had been blessed.

          The thing that most captures my attention here is that Jesus is doing the seeking. While Zacchaeus is curious and is bounding down the street to climb the sycamore tree to get a better look at the local hero, we have no reason to think it is more than curiosity. We might surmise that Zacchaeus is probably more than a little dissatisfied with the way his life is turning out. He has every material thing he could want and it’s boring. It isn’t all it was cracked up to be. He has all this money, but no one respects him. He’s probably having trouble buying friends.

          But look at what’s going on with Jesus! He comes to the tree and he looks up and calls Zacchaeus by name. By name! This is Jericho, the City of Palms. It had aqueducts, a winter palace for Herod, even a hippodrome. This was a flourishing city with a large population. These two men did not run in each other’s circles. And yet Jesus calls the man by name. Not only that, he tells Zacchaeus to hurry, that he must stay at Zacchaeus’ house today! Zacchaeus may have wanted to see Jesus but Jesus wanted to see Zacchaeus even more.

           This is a classic example of Reformed belief, which reminds us that God is sovereign and that we cannot even reach for God until he has first reached for us. Before we ever make a move, God draws us to him. He plants the seed in our hearts. He reaches out to us. He activates that seed and then we receive him joyfully just like Zacchaeus.  Jesus tells us in John 6 that “No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him.” Jesus has sought out and found Zacchaues. The lost is now found.

          The church leaders are grumbling. He doesn’t come to synagogue, they say. He is a tax collector, a sinner. Look at him. He makes a fool of himself, a grown man climbing a tree to see this Jesus. Everything is out of order. There are systems for this sort of thing. There are rules to be observed. No self respecting churchman would be caught in the house of a sinner! Jesus is a rule breaker, a regulation buster. He must be a fraud! And he most certainly can’t be successful this way!

          But Jesus was successful. He sought Zacchaeus and he saved him. Zacchaeus set new records for giving and doing penance for his past acts of selfishness. He went far beyond the requirements of the Jewish law.  Jesus called him a son of Abraham, not because he was Jewish, but because he was a believer and thus a spiritual descendent of Abraham.

It didn’t matter that Zacchaeus was a sinner. We’re all sinners. It didn’t matter to Jesus that Zacchaeus was not a churchman, that he was in a business known for cheating. It didn’t matter to Jesus what other people thought about his actions. It didn’t matter where or how they met. What mattered to Jesus was Zacchaeus. Jesus didn’t come to preserve institutions. He came to save people. What mattered to Jesus was that he had come to seek and save the lost. In that one afternoon, a man went from lost to found. Jesus sought him, Jesus found him. Jesus saved him.

Though the setting of this story is first century Palestine, it sounds all too familiar, doesn’t it. We sit in our pews and wonder why they aren’t full. And all the while, Jesus is walking around out there in the street. He still does that, you know. The history we read in Luke is most relevant when we realize that at some point we are the Zacchaeus’s, and that Jesus is looking for us, drawing us to his arms of grace. He seeks us, he finds us, he saves us.

I heard it said recently that the thing about grace is that it always finds us right where we are, but never leaves us where it found us. Doesn’t that make the hair stand up on the back of your neck! That’s Jesus. He’s calling your name. Hurry down from your perch wherever that might be, for he may be having lunch at your house today.

10/20/13

Fighting the Good Fight

2 Tim 6-8, 16-18

            He was only thirty nine years old when he was killed in a German concentration camp. Already famous in Christian circles for his profound writing, which included The Cost of Discipleship, Dietrich Bonhoeffer was in America when Nazi Germany declared war on Europe and Britain. He could have stayed in the United States, but he chose to return to Germany. Hitler had ordered the Jews expulsed from Germany and this meant that Jesus’ teachings would also be banned.  Indeed, Hitler ordered that the Church would become an agency of the state. Bonhoeffer returned to Germany where he worked underground to preserve the church. He helped to write the Barmen Declaration, one of the confessions of our church today. That declaration asserted that the Christian church could never become subject to the rule of any human government and that it answers only to Jesus Christ. Bonhoeffer lived his life…and ultimately gave it…for his belief in Christ and the church.

In the book of Numbers [28: 24], we find God instructing Moses on how and on what occasions to make public offerings. Such practices included drink offerings. These offerings were made daily as well as on special occasions. The drink offerings were wine and were used in conjunction with meat offerings. They were designed to remind God’s people that they owed their lives and livelihoods to him.

          In the book of Philippians [2: 17], we find the apostle Paul writing a very upbeat letter to his friends in the church there. He is most probably in Rome and under house arrest. He refers to himself in a sacrificial manner, saying that even if he may be poured out like a drink offering upon the sacrificial altar of their faith, he will do so gladly and rejoicing.

          The book of Second Timothy finds Paul much closer to the end of his life and he seems well aware of it. There is no more “even if” in his language. He is still in prison, but no longer under house arrest. He is in a prison cell and soon he will be martyred for the cause of Jesus. Now he says “I am already being poured out as a drink offering [4: 6]. Paul’s time has come.

Drink offerings offer us a vivid image of the meaning of sacrifice. In the time of Moses, they were used to sweeten the savory aroma of the best meat of bulls and rams brought to the altar to sacrifice to God. The first and best fruits were regularly offered to God as a sign of reverence and loyalty and trust. The best wine was poured over these sacrifices as a drink offering to complete the gift.

Paul uses this custom to describe his impending martyrdom. Twice in scripture, Paul refers to being “poured out.” The image is one of generosity, of a covering, of saturation. His offering is that of himself, poured out like so much more wine as an act of loyalty to God. It is not lost on us that the blood of Paul would remind us of the wine of an Old Testament drink offering. It is also not lost on us that Paul is not unhappy. Nor does he appear afraid. If anything, he seems almost eager for the next step.

Why did Dietrich Bonhoeffer return to Germany? Why did Paul continue to preach the gospel and get run out of city after city? Why do people intentionally put themselves in harm’s way? The answer is not complicated. We do so because we believe in the cause for which we sacrifice. We do so because we love. We do so because the reason for the sacrifice outweighs the sacrifice itself. Sometimes we do what we do as a pattern, like Bonhoeffer and the apostle Paul. Sometimes we do so out of reflex, like Mike Landsberry did last week in a Nevada middle school. He stepped into the path of a semiautomatic weapon wielded by a troubled teenager and it cost him his life. He was just another middle school math teacher until fate dealt him a choice. He could save himself…or he could stand in the gap. He chose honor. He chose sacrifice. He believed in the cause for which he made his sacrifice. He acted in love. Children’s lives were saved.

Psychiatrists tell us that people who lead the fullest lives seem to fear death least. Certainly the examples here would qualify in that respect. That includes Mike Landsberry, who had served two tours in Afghanistan as a Marine. Mike had no chance to think. He just acted out of reflex developed long before this particular event. He knew what he needed to do. He lived his life in such a way that when he was in a position to make a difference, he didn’t hesitate.

Paul has had plenty of time to contemplate and yet the result is the same.  He acts out his faith. In his advice to Timothy, he uses athletic metaphors to describe his fate. He has fought the good fight. He has finished the race. He has kept the faith, played by the rules, stood his post to the end. Paul’s life has been full. He has no regrets. He has lived the slogan he coined in Philippians: “to live is Christ; to die is gain.”

There is an old adage that says: to the victor go the spoils. Paul now claims his reward. He says that from here on there is reserved for him a crown of righteousness to be awarded to him by the Lord. Like the victorious athlete at the end of a contest, Paul looks forward to the crown, the trophy. Interestingly, Paul points toward a crown of righteousness as though he has not yet received it. Does that mean that Paul is not yet righteous? Does that mean that Paul is partially righteous; that in his death, he will cross over to full righteousness? It may even mean both. If we may compare Paul’s teachings on sanctification to this comment on righteousness, it would seem that in his earthly death, Paul will be elevated to a state of true righteousness that can only be achieved in his unity with God. Our earthly walk is a process of sanctification that is completed in our death and resurrection, for indeed, we will be resurrected. We have God’s promise on that.

In Paul’s final thoughts in this passage, he forgives those who have deserted him in much the same way that Christ forgives his persecutors while hanging from the Cross. Paul then gives credit to God for the numerous times that Paul has been rescued in order to bring the gospel to the Gentiles. Then Paul talks about his final rescue, where God will deliver him from every evil deed and bring him safely into his heavenly kingdom. It is a remarkable tribute. It is also a faith statement. Paul knows full well that his end is very close. He also knows that it will be painful. He fully expects to be executed and soon. And yet, Paul’s statements ring of optimism and faith of the highest order. Death holds no power over Paul.  On the contrary, he looks forward to his deliverance to God. He pays homage to God and gives God the glory for all that will happen. 

This is what we as Christians need to hear. This is what we as Christians need to be about. Like Paul and the heroes we have mentioned today, we need to fill our lives with all things good and righteous. We need to experience what it is to work for God, to commune with God. We need to train ourselves so that our reflexes will not betray us when we are tested. We need to remember that Paul’s life, while a great role model, is not unique. It is repeated daily by countless disciples of Christ all over God’s creation. The real question is whether you and I can be counted in that number.

Fill your life with the right things. Don’t wait for that moment when you might be asked to offer the ultimate sacrifice. Start now. Become an arm or a hand for your Savior. Extend yourself. Pour yourself out like a rich drink offering so that your love and your belief can be seen and heard by all those around you. 

The true fullness of God’s kingdom must wait for that day when we meet God in heaven, but the taste of it is here and now. Fight the good fight. Run the race. That crown of righteousness is for all who believe, so live…and live for Christ.

Let us pray.

10/27/13

What Will He Find?

Luke 18: 1-8

            Seventy six years. That’s a long time to wait. Seventy six years from birth to becoming a Nobel Peace Prize winner and the first democratically elected President of the government of South Africa. Along the way, Nelson Mandela spent twenty eight of those years in prison. He didn’t commit a crime as we understand crime. His crime was that he wanted to effect change. We could call him a civil rights activist and we would be right, as long as we understand that Mandela stood not for dominance by any particular ethnic group, but rather for freedom based upon fairness and equality, not race. Twenty eight years in prison is a rather strange way to train for political office. It’s an awfully long time not to lose heart.

          In a life that spanned seventy nine years, Mahatma Gandhi found his most effective witness in fasting. Imprisoned numerous times, this well educated man used peaceful civil disobedience as his most effective weapon against injustice, but in a lifetime of protests, he was still misunderstood by many and assassinated in 1948. He spent his life leading others to understand the consequences of commitment; that faith holds the hand of persistence or holds nothing at all.

In Luke 18, Jesus tells a parable about a widow seeking justice. It’s not the easiest thing in the Bible to understand, but it carries a valuable lesson. It is another of those “how much more” stories that Luke likes to tell about Jesus. Remember back in Luke 11 when Jesus directs us to ask, seek and knock? That too was a story of persistence, as the man knocked on his neighbor’s door until the neighbor finally gave in. Remember how we see sinful people giving good gifts to their children, and Jesus reminding us how much more our heavenly Father, who knows no sin, can do for us.  Luke employs the “how much more” device to illustrate how much more God can do than we humans can do, even in the best of our efforts.

A widow goes to court. More accurately, a widow goes before a magistrate. This is not a Jewish court or a Jewish judge. In Jewish civil court, there would have been three judges: one picked by the plaintiff, one picked by the defendant and one picked by the two judges. This was instead a civil proceeding before a civil authority. It was a one judge panel, probably a magistrate. The scenario that Luke describes here is one where money and power will buy you the justice you seek. If you don’t have one of these, you are out of court before you even start. Nevertheless, the widow keeps coming back. She won’t quit seeking justice. The very fact that she is a widow implies that she is powerless, but she won’t go away. Like the Mandelas and the Gandhis of our time, the widow is persistent. She doesn’t lose heart. The judge finally relents, not out of any sense of fairness, but rather because she is an inconvenience to him and he wants to be rid of her.

So how can this story have anything to do with Christian faith? The unrighteous judge finally renders justice just to get shed of the pesky widow. Even those who do no more than persist will ultimately have some reward. Is that the lesson? Only in the sense that God wants us to not lose heart. This is a lesson of both comparison and contrast. We compare our persistence to that of the widow. God wants us not to lose heart, to keep coming back just like the widow. We contrast the magistrate’s justice and attention to that of God. If a sorry unrighteous judge can eventually mete out justice, how much more can God do for those in his flock! We who believe should never lose heart in our God and Savior. He loves us and takes care of us.

The danger, of course, for the people of God is that too often we fail to remember whose rulebook we play by. God has no watch, no calendar, no orbit. God is not even BC or AD. God is! His name means “I Am.” There is no past, no future. God has only one tense: “I Am.” Our telescopes can now see outside our galaxy, the Milky Way. It has taken us thousands of years to build a telescope powerful enough to see that far, and that is only one galaxy. God is not of this galaxy. God is not from another galaxy. God is outside ALL the galaxies. He is out there. He is right here. God is not confined, not defined. He is both Lord of the cosmos and Shepherd of our souls. He is the great “I Am.” So when we try to describe time, we come up with words like “wait.” What does that mean to “I Am’? God must chuckle at our attempts to define and limit him who is by definition without limits. 

And Jesus says to his disciples that God’s people cry to him both day and night, that God will not delay, but rather give justice to them speedily. We are God’s people. Are you crying to him? Is he answering you? Do you think he is speedy? Do you think he is fair? Do you think he is just?

I cry to him. He answers me, too. I don’t doubt that he is speedy. I just don’t know how to define that in human terms. I know he is just. I know he is fair. I know what that means for me and so I thank him for sending his Son to even up my ledger. If it weren’t for that, I would want God’s justice postponed forever.  But because of Jesus, I can believe and not fear. I am saved.

But then, after promising us that God hears and God gives justice, Jesus asks this haunting question. For all that God has done, for all that God will do, what will the Son of Man find when he returns? When I return, says Jesus, What will I find? Will I find faith on earth? Later in the chapter, Jesus muses that people may find their own justification, that they may find and define their own brand of righteousness.

Jesus’ question still haunts us. He put that question not to just anyone, but to his disciples. He is asking the faithful. He is asking us. When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth? If he came today, he would find both faith and the lack of it. If he came today, he would find both righteousness and idolatry.

If Jesus comes today, where will he find you? Will you have persisted? Will you have kept the faith? Will he find you his faithful disciple or will he find you trusting in yourself? We are all sinners saved by grace. Not one of us is righteous. If Jesus comes today, where will he find you? Let each of us pray always and not lose heart. Let him find us waiting, worshipping, prepared for his coming. Let him find us all doing as the tax collector in the next parable of Luke 18, standing head bowed, saying ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’

Let us pray.

10/20/13

Strengthened By the Grace

2 Timothy 2: 1-15

In 1848, about twelve miles east of Rocky Creek, a preaching point took root. John Graham and some like minded friends built a little chapel in which to worship. Some thirty five years passed before a frame house was erected three miles east of that site and church services were held there.  Over the course of the next hundred or so years, the Rocky Creek church became part of three yoked congregations. McBee withdrew from that union in 1974 and in 2007, the downtown Jefferson church also became independent, leaving Rocky Creek Presbyterian on its own. Along the way, many men and women joined together to keep this church alive and moving along in God’s will. Each generation passed its toil, triumphs and tithes to the next, and the cemetery adjoining the church reflects that the church has survived, and even thrived, for a considerable time and a number of generations. Mothers and fathers have bequeathed not only their property and fortunes to their children, but have also entrusted to them the perpetuation of this church and its service to God. Their legacy became our responsibility.

Second Timothy is such a thoughtful epistle. It is one of the three Pastoral Letters of the New Testament, the others being First Timothy and Titus. Their title reflects their content; they are letters from the “Pastor” to his students…his closest disciples. Second Timothy is probably the last of the three, indeed the last letter that the great Apostle Paul wrote. It was almost certainly written while he was in prison. He wrote a very personal letter to his favorite, his “son” in the faith. He gave Timothy advice about what to do when Paul was no longer there to ask. His advice, while very personal, reaches out to us as though he might have been writing to us as well.

Be strengthened by the grace of Christ, says Paul. Entrust what you have heard from me to faithful men who will carry it to others. Share in suffering as a good Christian soldier must. Remember Jesus, for he brought salvation to those who believe. Remind them, charge them, and you: you do your best to present yourself before God as one approved, God’s worker.

Thank God for Timothy. He was Paul’s personal helper for many years of Paul’s ministry. He is given credit by Paul as a co-author of six of Paul’s letters. He is known as the Bishop of Ephesus and he is one of the great first century missionaries and disciples of Christ.  But Timothy should be remembered most of all for one simple thing. He didn’t drop the baton.

One of the most signal characteristics of Jesus’ ministry is that at the end of the day, he picked out a handful of devoted followers and entrusted them with his gospel. They didn’t let him down. Peter, James, John and company, later joined by Paul, spread the gospel fearlessly and relentlessly for the rest of their lives. They martyred themselves for our Savior and his message. Timothy, Silas, Titus, Stephen and many other unnamed disciples witnessed to the truth of Jesus’ message as taught to them by the apostles. They took the baton from their teachers and passed it forward.

I don’t know the history of this region very well, but it seems to me that the Sand hills of South Carolina are not the easiest place to carve out a living. Nevertheless, some very hardy and stubborn families tamed this area many years ago and found ways to make the land yield up its resources. Along the way, they started churches like this one. Like Paul to Timothy, they entrusted family and friends to carry on that work. No doubt they had their share of suffering, but they persevered.

The seeds that were planted over a hundred and fifty years ago continue to yield their harvest today.

Paul, speaking from a prison cell near the end of his life, encourages Timothy to be strengthened by the grace of Christ. He has heard the word from Paul and he has heard it in the presence of other Christians for whom he has respect. So the grace of Jesus strengthens Timothy… and those who come after… to receive the Word. But receiving the Word is not enough. Paul exhorts his disciple to entrust the Word to others, to faithful men who will pass it on. After we receive the Word, we have a duty to transmit it. We need to witness that which we believe. You can almost hear Jesus in the background, saying, go…teach…baptize! God’s legacy comes in many forms, but it is always very personal.

Where would Rocky Creek Presbyterian Church be today if faithful men and women of God had not toiled and labored to not only give it life, but keep it vital in its sustained ministry these many years? Where would the Christian Church be today but for the martyrs of the faith? The church is only as strong as those who support its work and carry that baton. The race is not won. When we fail to witness to our faith, the buildings and steeples that dot our landscape will become little more than monuments to a world that used to be, to a faith that should have been,  rather than to the sanctuaries of both saints and sinners of today.

As we celebrate another anniversary in the history of our church in this community, let us give pause to think of that which we properly enshrine. It is not the church building, though it is a wonderful place to gather and worship. It is not the fellowship hall, though that is a perfect spot to break bread with one another. As we celebrate homecoming, let us give thanks for lives well lived, for men and women who faithfully served our Lord and left an indelible witness for us to emulate. We have a great heritage at this church, but the legacy is one of witness born of sacrifice, hard work, faith and God’s grace. Any track coach will tell you that in a relay race, it takes two to pass the baton. Drop it and your race is over. You forfeit. The race to salvation is like that. We must follow in the footsteps of Paul and Timothy and so many more through the ages who have been “strengthened by the grace that is in Christ Jesus.”

Why do we teach? Why do we share in suffering? Why do we work and witness? We do so because we remember. We remember Jesus Christ. We endure not only for ourselves, but for the sake of those who will follow us. Paul passed the torch to Timothy. Timothy passed it to others. So it is with the Christian life. We teach and suffer and endure because we are part of a long line of keepers of the promise, the promise of salvation that lies in Christ Jesus.

Millstones and Mulberries

Luke 17-1-10

            Ever wish the Bible were longer? I certainly do. I feel that way especially when I read Luke and Acts. Luke is a great reporter, but sometimes I just wish I had more than the bare bones. Such is the nature of the first ten verses of Luke 17. There are four separate pieces of instruction here, each apparently independent of one another. Luke shoots them out to us rapid fire. Bang, bang! Do this. Do that. Beware this. Beware that. Then, just like that, Jesus is on to other things. Together, these instructions constitute what could be called Jesus’ expectations of his followers about faith and faithfulness. But it’s all meat with no garnishment. Pay attention or you’ll miss it. Beware, first of your example and last, of your pride. Learn how to forgive and find your faith in God’s power. Those are Jesus’ instructions.

          Ever been a teacher or a coach? Almost everyone here has. Even if you don’t know it, you are teaching. If you have children or grandchildren, you’re teaching. If you go through a grocery checkout line, you’re a teacher. If you’re a softball or baseball coach, you’re a teacher. Sometimes, you even get to teach the game, but often, that’s not what your students are learning. They’re watching to see if you will remain patient. They’re waiting for you to curse. They’re wondering if you know their name. They’re guessing who your favorites are. Everything you say, everything you express with your body language, teaches them who you are, whether you care and whether they care to learn from you.

          Jesus is on the way to Jerusalem and a date with the Cross. He knows it but his disciples don’t. I can almost see him walking up the road and as he walks, he starts teaching, not so much with long lessons, but with bullets. A coach says to a base runner: get a good lead. Jesus says just as cryptically to his disciples: don’t be the cause of someone’s sin! Don’t lead someone the wrong way. It would be better for you to hang a boulder on a chain around your neck and throw you overboard than it would to misguide a little one. Little ones are not just children. They are also those who are new and tender in the faith. Don’t lead them astray. Don’t be an offending brother.

          Jesus walks on up the road. He turns again and says: “Pay attention to yourselves.” Instruction number two. What if your brother offends you?  How far must you forgive as a Christian? If you were a Rabbi and forgave someone three times, it was said that you were a perfect man. What does Jesus say? Seven times, not three and if I read it correctly, Jesus is really saying to forgive as long as your brother repents. Forgive as much as it takes for as long as it takes, no matter how much that is.

          That woke the apostles up. They say to Jesus: “Increase our faith!” In other words, they don’t have that measure of faith. They don’t have a well of forgiveness that deep. And in this third instruction, Jesus answers not about how to find more faith, but rather how to understand what faith really is. His illustration is in the extreme. If you had enough faith as might be found in the smallest seed around, that would be enough to successfully root a mulberry tree in the ocean. Jesus is saying that it’s not the degree of faith that moves mountains; it’s the power of God that does it and faith is the key to unleashing that mighty power. A little faith goes a long way.

          Jesus resumes walking up the road. He’s probably walking “up” the road as opposed to “down” the road because the road from Galilee to Jerusalem is an ascent to higher ground. As he walks, he has one more lesson for his disciples. He warns them to beware of pride. He talks about servants who put in a good day’s work on the job, but who know better than to quit just because they have come in from the fields. There is always work to do. Jesus warns us not to sit on our assets. We can’t outwork God. We can’t earn God’s grace. The song doesn’t read “How Great I Art,” does it? 

Dean Smith, the hall of fame basketball coach at North Carolina for thirty six years, will be receiving the Presidential Medal of Freedom this year. You have to do more than be a great coach to receive such an honor. Smith coached young men to be better human beings and used the game of basketball as his venue. Once, when he was still an assistant coach and before the restaurants at Chapel Hill were integrated, Smith was asked to join his pastor and a black student at lunch in a local eatery. Smith accepted and the trio was seated without incident, though that was far from a foregone conclusion when he accepted his pastor’s invitation. Actions such as this have earned suggestions that Smith was a civil rights pioneer. Smith never would have any of it. His response when questioned along these lines was as pointed as that of Jesus in Luke 17. “You should never be proud of doing the right thing. You should just do it,” said Smith.

          Jesus warns us to be aware of seeking praise for that which we were bound to do in the first place. Why should we get puffed up over doing the job we were sent to do? When we serve God, are we not doing that which we are supposed to do? We are given the gift of being able to serve he who has made us. There is no room for pride in that equation.

When you step back and look at what Jesus asks of us as his disciples, these four apparently disconnected instructions are actually steps to discipleship. Beware of wrong teaching and tempting. Forgive until it hurts, then forgive some more. Unleash the faith you have and watch it grow. And beware of the power of pride or you will find yourself an unworthy servant in God’s army. Just a few nuggets from the Master on the way to the Cross. Imagine what else was on his mind that day! Imagine how many other things were running through his mind to tell his disciples while there was still time. But Jesus knew that they could absorb only so much at a time, and so he gave them just enough to chew on for a while. Have you ever noticed that he does that to you and me in our walk with him? He never gives us more than we can handle. We may sometimes feel overcome or overwhelmed, but when we think it through, it’s never a result of the demands of Christianity. Those demands, difficult as they sometimes are, release us rather than restrict us, to do God’s work. As Jesus’ disciples were to learn at Pentecost, the power of the Holy Spirit can release ordinary men and women to great things. That is still as true today as it was on the road to Jerusalem with Jesus.

          The next story in Luke will find Jesus encountering ten lepers on the border territory between Samaria and Galilee. This will be a new lesson for the disciples. Ten believe. Ten are cleansed, but only one is made whole and he is a Samaritan, a half breed. Jesus is planting the mulberry tree in the ocean, and it WILL grow.

          “The Apostles said to the Lord: Increase our faith.” And he said to them: you don’t need more faith. You need to use what God has already given you. He will do the rest.

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.