Hope

This sermon was heard at The Federated Church on Sunday September 25, 2016, the Twenty-Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Jeremiah 32:1-15
Psalm 91:1-6, 14-16
1 Timothy 6:6-19
Luke 16:19-31

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen

I might have told you before, and shared this with the Lunch and Liturgy participants on Tuesday, that when I look at the Sunday scripture, I look at several translations. As I said last week, all translation is interpretation. When I look at the Old Testament scriptures, I look at the Jewish Publication Society translation alongside the English language versions I use for the New Testament. I do this because I want to see how Jews translate and interpret their own scriptures and compare it to the versions used by Christians.

I find this version interesting not just because of its wording, but because of its rhythm. There’s a lilt to the way it can be read, but Hebrew is that way to someone who speaks the language well, which I don’t. But in the English, I hope you agreed.

There are a few people in this narrative you need to know, the first of course being Jeremiah. Jeremiah prophesied from the thirteenth year of King Josiah until the end of the reign of King Zedekiah. The biblical books of Kings, Jeremiah, and Lamentations are all ascribed to Jeremiah, via the hand of his scribe Baruch the son of Neriah. It was Jeremiah’s lot in life to be known as “the weeping prophet,” it was Baruch’s to record these histories and prophecies, to document the weeping. It is important to know Baruch because without him we would not know Jeremiah.

Then there is Zedekiah, the king of Judah mentioned in this narrative. Jeremiah prophesied over the reigns of five kings of Judah, Zedekiah being the last because, well, we read that prophecy today. A prophecy which came to be. As Zedekiah’s reign ended, not only did the prophesied destruction occur, Solomon’s Temple was destroyed as Jerusalem was taken.

In short, Zedekiah imprisoned Jeremiah because every time Zedekiah asked Jeremiah to prophesy, praying he would prophesy deliverance, Jeremiah would say, “Well Zed, The Lord is going to deliver you and all Jerusalem to the King of Babylon and not you’re not going to escape. In fact, you’re going to be his prisoner until the Lord decides to remember you. Fight all you want; it won’t matter.”

Jeremiah was under arrest in the court of the guard. He could wander as he wanted on their grounds and the public areas of the guardhouse, but he was not free. He was constantly being watched. He would be allowed visitors, certainly Baruch came to bring food and wine and hear and take Jeremiah’s prophecies, but he was in a fancy jail. Prophecy the reason for his confinement.

So, how’s that for a beginning. The Weeping Prophet is in jail for giving the king the Word of HaShem, the Word of the Lord. He’s wasting away. He knows that the city will fall sooner or later. He knows one day, one day soon or years away, the guard will leave only to fight the last valiant, futile battle to save Jerusalem, save Judah, and save Zedekiah; and he has a vision from the Lord. Hanamel, the son of Jeremiah’s Uncle Shallum will come to offer to sell the family field in Anathoth.

Hanamel will come to Jeremiah because he has the primary right to redeem the purchase of this land. At the time in Israel and Judah, the tribal lands had to be kept within the families, you couldn’t just put land on the market for sale. Then not only did the land have to stay in the family, there was a hierarchy of who the land had to be offered. In this case, Jeremiah had the first right of refusal.

Sure enough, Hanamel comes to Jeremiah and asks him to purchase the plot. Realizing this is the way of HaShem, Jeremiah agrees. He weighs out the seventeen shekels of silver and the deeds are prepared. One deed is prepared as a public record, the other to be sealed and put into an earthen pot, a jar of clay. This is the safety deposit box of the day. This cool dry storage will ensure the safety of the document. Baruch takes the silver and the documents to the Elders at the city gate, because Jeremiah can’t go, he’s in jail. These Elders are the official witnesses of all major transactions.

Together they make the deal.

The deal though is not complete until Jeremiah makes an important prophecy. Baruch delivers the word of the Lord from Jeremiah saying, “For thus saith HaShem of hosts, the G-d of Israel: Houses and fields and vineyards shall yet again be bought in this land.”

Jeremiah is in prison. The city will be sacked. The temple will be destroyed. The king will be taken to Babylon. Everybody worth anything will be taken too. Judah and Israel will be left to the aged and the infirm. Jeremiah will be taken to Egypt, but before all of this happens and before all of this ends, there is light at the end of the tunnel. Judah has a future. People will return. The nation will rise again. Things will be better.

How do we know this? Jeremiah prophesies “houses, fields, and vineyards will be bought in this land again.” The people will return. There will be life. Families will return and thrive. There will be crops and there will be vines. There will be bread and there will be wine. The people will return and there will be a need for records in earthen jars, so they must be kept.

In the midst of siege, battle, prison, prophesy, fear, despair, and a king who will be the last of the Kings of Judah, there is hope. There is hope because the weeping prophet says there is. Jeremiah proclaims a future in the land for the people. Thus saith HaShem of hosts.

Because there is hope, Paul tells us through Timothy, “pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance and gentleness. Fight the good fight of the faith. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called when you made your good confession in the presence of many witnesses.” Promises made in the waters of our baptism.

We aren’t called to be trapped by harmful desires. Righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance and gentleness are the marks of life well lived. What we consider wealth is uncertain, so Paul warns the rich not to be haughty, not to flaunt their wealth. Paul instead bids we become “rich in good deeds, to be generous and willing to share.” So that for the coming age, an age that may not be unlike Jeremiah’s, we will have a firm foundation so that we may take hold of the life that is truly life.

What is life that is truly life? I like this story from Luke’s gospel, not only for its wonderful lesson about “life that is truly life,” but for its implicit irony. You see, Luke’s gospel was written sometime between 75-85 AD. So when Jesus tells the story of the rich man and Lazarus and the rich man cries out to Father Abraham…

“Then I beg you, father, send Lazarus to my family, for I have five brothers. Let him warn them, so that they will not also come to this place of torment.

“Abraham replied, ‘They have Moses and the Prophets; let them listen to them.’

“‘No, father Abraham,’ he said, ‘but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.’

“He said to him, ‘If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.’”

The irony of this is that by the time of the recording and telling of this tale, Jesus has died and risen. I like that, not the community patting itself on the back which is haughty, but the humor of Father Abraham saying “they will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead” after Jesus has been risen from the dead.

The main lesson though, the flashy life of the rich man is nothing in the realm of true life. For all of the abuse the world laid at the feet of Lazarus, his life was true and he receives his reward.

The hope that comes from this story is that there is hope. There is repentance. Our Lord does not turn his back on those he loves and the Lord loves us all. Yes, there are consequences for our actions. Zedekiah found that. Jerusalem found that. The entire nation found that. The rich man in the parable finds that there may be no hope for his brothers. I refuse to believe there is no hope, repentance may yet come, but if they continue as their brother did there is not.

Paul was a Pharisee and a citizen of Rome was one of those rich men. He met the man who died and rose to live again. He found the difference between the good life he led and the true life he could have, and he took it.

What does “true life” mean to us? As this part of the body of Christ what do we need to do to pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance and gentleness? I thank God for what we do. Meals on Wheels, the Food Banks, the Ministerial Alliance, Positive Pathways, Denominational Support, because those are good missions, that’s good outreach.

I thank God for what we do in Christian Education, teaching and learning and growing in God is important. Good examples like Jeremiah, Baruch and Timothy and bad examples like Zedekiah show us where God delights and where God does not.

But there is more. There is so much more. The Lord does not want us to be anxious. Anxiety doesn’t even sniff at that list of qualities that defines true life, things like righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance and gentleness. So let us pray. Let us seek. Let us plan. Let us go forward. Above all let us hope because that is true life where HaShem finds delight.

Dishonest? Unrighteous? Shrewd?

This sermon was heard at The Federated Church in Waterford, Oklahoma on Sunday September 18, 2016, the Twenty-Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time.

Jeremiah 8:18-9:1
Psalm 79:1-9
1 Timothy 2:1-7
Luke 16:1-13

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.

As you recall, last week I mentioned that there are some Sundays pastors don’t look forward to preaching. Welcome to one of those Sundays. It seems logical that the parables are ready made for sermons, Jesus tells a story, the pastor explains the story, we have coffee after church and go to lunch. Unfortunately, parables aren’t that easy. Give me an Old Testament narrative for that sort of sermon any day.

The parables are often filled with strange twists and turns that betray simple retelling. On top of twists, there are cultural variables we don’t understand. So if the pastor tries a simple retelling, it’s possible to skate across the surface of the parable glazing over important points. Skating across the text reminds me of the line from an old song, “If you should go skating on the thin ice of hot life, don’t be surprised if a crack in the ice appears under your feet.”

Jesus teaches his disciples, out loud, “The master commended the dishonest manager because he had acted shrewdly. For the people of this world are more shrewd in dealing with their own kind than are the people of the light. I tell you, use worldly wealth to gain friends for yourselves, so that when it is gone, you will be welcomed into eternal dwellings.” If you aren’t confused, you aren’t paying attention. I’ve preached this passage several times and it never ceases confusing me. With this paragraph is Jesus commending dishonesty? It seems so out of character. What’s going on here?

Let’s look at the parable again. There was a manager who was being wasteful with a Rich Man’s possessions. This isn’t refuted by the manager; he squandered the rich man’s possessions. So the rich man pulls the manager aside and says, “‘What is this I hear about you? Give an account of your management, because you cannot be manager any longer.”

“The manager said to himself, ‘What shall I do now? My master is taking away my job. I’m not strong enough to dig, and I’m ashamed to beg—I know what I’ll do so that, when I lose my job here, people will welcome me into their houses.’”

First, the rich man did something silly. To put this in modern terms, he fires his manager, then demands he go back to his office and put his books together so he can report on whether he was wasteful or worse. These days you’re met at your desk by security and the forensic accountant and you might get to leave with the photograph of your wife and kids; but not until security makes sure you haven’t written any computer codes on the back of your pictures.

Second, let’s give this manager some credit, he’s self-aware. Too proud to beg, too weak to dig, he needs a new job and he’s sure he’s not going to get a letter of recommendation. So what does he do, he plots to endear himself to the people who may give him his next job, people who need managers, the people who owe his master money. So he gets in contact with them and plays “Let’s make a deal.”

This is where I got the cover for today’s bulletin: The boss yells “You’re fired” and the manager responds “Okay, mind if I take care of a couple things first?”

He calls in the first debtor and asks, “‘How much do you owe my master?” Let’s pause here. There’s one guy in charge of knowing how much Olive Oil Guy owes his master and he doesn’t seem to know. If there were three or four people in the books that’s one thing but there aren’t. It’s just the manager and he doesn’t know, he should be fired for that alone.

Then again, he could be shrewdly offering Olive Oil Guy a chance to set his own terms. He may know good and well the master is owed nine hundred gallons and hoped Olive Oil Guy would take his own discount? “How much do you owe? Wink-wink.” “Ah, four hundred and fifty gallons? Wink-wink?” but this little conspiracy doesn’t play out.

Alas the manager was clueless or Olive Oil Guy was honest; so the manager says, “Take your bill, sit down quickly, and make it four hundred and fifty.” This continued with the man who owed his master wheat who got a 20% discount instead of a 50% discount.

When the rich man caught wind of what happened and scripture gives us this gem, “The master commended the dishonest manager because he had acted shrewdly.” This is where knowledge of the languages hurts more than it helps. The word our bibles translates as “master” is very common in the Greek New Testament, usually it’s translated as “Lord.” Imagine how dizzy that made the disciples, this is the Lord? I’m dizzy? How are you doing?

John Dominic Crossan quotes other bible scholars when working this text saying this man wasn’t stealing from his boss, he was stealing from himself. This is what made him dishonest and shrewd rather than a felon. Let me explain this in a modern setting which may make more sense.

Let’s say a big boss has someone in sales working on commission. The boss gets the quarterly reports and notices that somebody has been very naughty. Office supplies have gone missing and somebody has traded up their office chair for something nicer, a Cadillac Escalade (Boy, those “Push it in, pull it in, drag it in” trade-in sales are great, aren’t they!).

Knowing who has mismanaged corporate assets, the boss calls this shrewd employee in and as a good reformed Christian believes in grace; so the boss tells the employee to get their stuff in order and get out. Too proud to beg, too weak to dig what does the employee do? Go to the clients and give them discounts. But if there is any more theft from the boss, grace will turn to disgrace and a place on the Police Report in the paper. So the employee gives discounts from their commissions hoping for a quick job offer.

Yes, it’s a kickback. Yes, this is illegal in America, but this isn’t America. This isn’t even real; this is a parable. So Crossan and these scholars aren’t looking at the grand action of the parable like theft like I have for years. He’s seen as being shrewd; though shewed isn’t a particularly complementary word.

The Greek word used here gets a workout from the translators. Some use dishonest, others use shrewd, others unrighteous. You will hear me say this time again, all translation is interpretation. The word used depends on the intent and the theological slant of the translation committee.

Dishonest? He’s not telling anybody where their discount is coming from. The master will know. Do the debtors? The parable doesn’t say, but they might. But who would hire a crook? The parable tells us the manager was wasteful, but is that the same as dishonest? He doesn’t lie to the boss, he just discounts everybody’s debt without telling the boss. Not good, but not dictionary dishonest.

Shrewd? Yes, he is being shrewd. He’s taking his share and he’s using it to try to secure his future without telling anybody what he’s doing. Unfortunately, there’s too much melodramatic baggage with “shrewd” to suit my taste. I imagine the manager twirling a handlebar mustache while not doing his job and pursuing a soft landing. It works, but it’s not quite right.

Unrighteous? That’s the word I prefer. While dishonest and shewed can work, I prefer unrighteous because there’s a theological basis to it. Job is righteous. This guy, not so much because his actions served his lifestyle. He did whatever he had to so he could keep living not like a rich man, but in a rich man’s house. He didn’t want to do the work to be a master, a Lord, he wanted to be his slave, as long as he was a comfortable slave.

We read in 1Timothy our Lord sent his Son so that we may come to the knowledge of truth, the truth of the righteousness of Christ. Seeking righteousness in the love of cash, status, comfort—especially comfort in slavery, will never get us where we want to be, where we need to be, where God wants us to be. We cannot love these things equally. As I said last week, we must love Christ above everything if we are to love at all.

In 1987, Oliver Stone made “Wall Street” starring Michael Douglas and Charlie Sheen. This is the movie where Douglas made the famous “Greed, for the lack of a better word, is good” speech. Since the movie came out Douglas has lamented that speech. Not the quality of the words or even the acting, but its interpretation by now two generations of business school yuppies who think that wealth is all that matters. He tells them that they don’t get it. They forget that Sheen’s character goes to jail. Douglas’ character is yet to be dealt with by the Securities and Exchange Commission.

Greed is not good. It’s not dishonest. It’s not shrewd. It is unrighteous. We need to spend our time and commit our energies to the one who is righteous instead. Amen

The Missing

This sermon was heard at The Federated Church in Weatherford, Oklahoma on Sunday September 11, 2016, the Twenty-Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time.

Jeremiah 4:11-12, 22-28
Psalm 14
1Timothy 1:12-17
Luke 15:1-10

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.

There are certain Sundays pastors look forward to preaching, and certain Sundays we don’t. They vary from pastor to pastor of course. As for me, I believe this is the first time I have ever preached on September 11th. It’s not that I’ve avoided it in the past, and I might be wrong. If I did the sermon wasn’t memorable. This year is different for some reason.

Fifteen years ago I was sitting in a seminary classroom learning the Hebrew alphabet. At 9:30ish there was a commotion in the hall, but I thought nothing of it. Some classes let out at that time. It was louder than usual, and Prof. Rev. Dr. Kathryn Roberts did not take interruptions lightly, she took them personally. So I focused on the board instead of the distraction.

I went down to Financial Aid after class. That was when I first found out about what had happened in New York City. None of the computers at the seminary were powerful enough or fast enough to process video, except for the server room of course. So Financial Aid Director Glenna Balch and I listened on the radio. I told her this must have been what listening to “War of the Worlds” felt like, except this was really happening. Then I rushed back to our apartment where I found Marie in shock.

In New York City people started putting up signs almost immediately. There were flyers with people’s pictures everywhere asking “Have you seen…?” followed by somebody’s name. Pictures from people hoping, begging that someone might have seen someone else. Had a piece of news. Maybe a friend of a friend or something.

First responders, police, firemen, EMT’s, nurses, all sorts of people came out of the woodwork to make things better. They became helpers. Some became heroes. Some became fallen heroes. Some were looking for loved ones. Everybody was looking because it was the right thing to do.

The last missing person, Michelle Guzman McMillan became a survivor when she was pulled from the rubble at about 12:30 pm on September 12. That was more than 27 hours after the North Tower fell. Her office was in that tower on the 64th floor.

But I don’t have to tell a Sooner about any of this. A little over six years earlier, Oklahoma City had its own disaster at the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building. On April 19, 1995, a Ryder truck loaded up with fertilizer and diesel was dropped off and detonated in front of the Murrah building blowing the front third off of the building killing 168 people, 19 of whom were children under the age of six and wounding 800 more.

At 9:03 am, the first of over 1,800 911 calls were received by the OKC Emergency Medical Services Authority, but by that time, EMSA ambulances, police, and firefighters were already headed to the scene, because they heard the blast. People who had witnessed or heard the blast arrived to assist the victims and emergency workers soon after. Within 23 minutes of the bombing, the State Emergency Operations Center was set up, with representatives from the state departments of public safety, human services, military, health, and education. Assisting the them were agencies like the National Weather Service, the Air Force, the Civil Air Patrol, and the American Red Cross to find the lost, tend the wounded and recover the dead. Immediate assistance also came from 465 members of the Oklahoma National Guard, who arrived within the hour to provide security, and from members of the Department of Civil Emergency Management because heroes need heroes too.

The summer of 2002, the summer after 9/11, Marie and I stopped at the Oklahoma City National Memorial traveling from Austin to Kansas City. I’m getting choked up, forgive me. Two things left me raw, emotionally raw from the visit. The first was the 168 chairs on the lawn, each one bearing the name of one of the victims ripped from this life. Of course there was a special punch in the stomach for the 19 child sized chairs. The other was the chain link fence that still bore the flyers with people’s pictures everywhere asking “Have you seen…?” followed by somebody’s name. Pictures from people hoping, begging that someone might have seen someone else. Had a piece of news. Maybe a friend of a friend or something.

Brandy Ligon was the last person to go from missing to found from the Murrah building bombing. She was fifteen at the time. She was in the nursery and could hear children crying after the bombing. Of course she heard children stop crying too. She was saved thirteen hours after being listed among the lost.

This is the week when we read that a shepherd will leave the 99 to find the one lost sheep to return it to the flock. This is the week when we read that a woman will sweep her house until she has blisters on her fingers if it means finding a tenth of her wealth. Both then will call everyone they know to celebrate because what was missing, is now found.

Most pastors at this point in the sermon take apart the parable to make sense of it. I have preached this passage before and that’s what I did, but not this year. The usual lesson we take from this is that we are called to seek the lost to make life whole again.

But after considering 9/11 and 4/19, it hardly makes me think we will ever really feel whole again, not this side of glory.

This year I stopped reading the passage after verse two, “Now the tax collectors and sinners were all gathering around to hear Jesus. But the Pharisees and the teachers of the law muttered, ‘This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.’”
So why did I stop here?

These readings are about the missing, the lost. These two short parables preface the Parable of the Prodigal Son in Luke’s gospel, a story of a wayward son, but even more so, the story of a Father who longs for his son’s return.

These parables, the two we read today and the parable of the Prodigal, are about the missing which is found. So instead of saying we are called to seek the lost, which is surely true, let me say this instead, in Christ, we are never missing.

In Christ we are never missing.

So often, the Pharisees of this world look at those they call “sinners,” and call them the lost. They have left the fold. They are weak. They are soiled. They are unclean. They are broken. They allow themselves to be used. They point and ask “Where is God?” and the answer is found right here. God in Christ is right there, at the table, breaking bread with them.

I often talk about of our baptismal identity because baptism is the sacramental symbol that shows how Christ joins us. Being celebrated once, unless we make a real effort to remember our baptism, its importance wanes, and I want us to stem that tide, so I remind us to remember our baptism.

Today we look at the other sacrament we celebrate, the Lord’s Supper. Jesus feeds his disciples, his children, the missing and the lost of this world because we are all missing and lost. The Apostle Paul knew this, maybe a bit melodramatically he shares this with Timothy. For all of the good that Paul has done and for the status he holds, he knows that he has done horrible things and is a man of sin, not grace. Paul also knows and shares that salvation comes through grace alone, the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ. He writes, “The grace of our Lord was poured out on me abundantly, along with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus.”

This grace comes not because of who Paul is or anything he did, but because of who Jesus is and what he does. Who is Jesus and what does he do? He is Immanuel, God with us, who comes and he sits with sinners, breaks bread and shares a meal. Through the Lord’s Supper, a meal only he can invite us to take and eat, we continue to share this meal.

In a few minutes, we will hear from Ashlyn Dillon who will tell us about her African mission trip last summer. This was not her first trip, and maybe not her last. The recurring theme I hear from missionaries is that when they return, their faith is stronger. I’m sure there are many reasons this could be, but I have a guess… I bet they sat down, shared a meal together, and discovered that in Jesus Christ, they weren’t among the missing anymore.

Amen.

God's Little Instruction Book

This sermon was heard at the Federated Church on Sunday September 4, 2016, the Twenty-Third Sunday in Ordinary Time.

Jeremiah 18:1-11
Psalm 139:
Philemon 1-21
Luke 14:25-33

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, oh Lord, our rock and my redeemer. Amen.

Over the last few weeks we have been on the road with Luke as Jesus travels from Galilee to Jerusalem. In this time Jesus has been welcomed and rejected. We have been with Jesus as he has taught and healed in the synagogue and in homes. He has welcomed the outcast and rebuked the powerful. We have seen humility and hypocrisy. We have joined Jesus for meetings with Pharisees, publicans, and prostitutes. We have heard him speak of love, grace, and forgiveness. We have seen Jesus in action and we have heard him teach with authority. So by this time it is no wonder large crowds were travelling with him.

Because of the way Jesus turned and spoke to the crowd I make these two assumptions: First, that there were true believers in the crowd, those who believed they were ready, come what may, when they reached Jerusalem. But secondly, I am just as sure that there were people who followed because it was a great crowd.

Sensing the time was right; Jesus turns to the mass of followers and announces what it takes to complete the journey, what it takes to be his disciple. He tells the crowd that to be his disciple they must hate their families and their own lives. He ends by telling the crowd that to follow him they must give up everything. I can only imagine this must have put quite a damper on the festivities.

When I started seminary, one of the supplementary textbooks for Introduction to the Old Testament was Michael Joseph Brown’s, “What They Didn’t Tell You, A Survivor’s Guide to Biblical Studies.” This book offers twenty-eight “rules of thumb” for seminarians. Some of the information was useful, some wasn’t. But one of the rules has stuck with me like a stone in my shoe. Rule ten says, “The Bible means what it says, and says what it means. Except when it doesn’t.” Luke’s discourse on hating family is the essence of this rule.

The original language of the text is an idiom, an expression unique to the culture. Fortunately for us, the parallel in Matthew’s gospel expresses what Jesus said in a way we can better understand. Matthew’s gospel records Jesus saying “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me.” While it is probable that Jesus said what was recorded in Luke’s gospel, its meaning is better rendered in English the way it is written in Matthew’s.

Either way, Jesus calls for a radical realignment of priorities. What has been acceptable in the past isn’t anymore. Anyone who is not ready to make the sacrifice Jesus demands follows at their own peril. The law isn’t changing, but its interpretation in Christ is new and different.

This is an example of scripture meaning what it says, except when it doesn’t. We aren’t supposed to hate, loathe, and despise our families and our lives. To follow Christ, we must love the Lord our God more than we love our families and our lives. In their place, Jesus put discipleship above all other obligations. Inherently we knew that Jesus did not abolish the law to honor thy father and thy mother; but it is difficult to understand that from this passage’s English translation.

The final verse in this reading was difficult for many in the crowd to hear then and it is now too. Jesus tells the crowd none of them can become his disciple if they do not give up all their possessions. Jesus doesn’t offer any wiggle room here; this is not an expression. Just as we are called to put Jesus above all human relationships we are called to part from all things for the sake of discipleship. This reading points to a renunciation of all possessions as a part of the radical realignment of our lives. To be a disciple of Jesus, we must put Him above everything.

Jesus goes on in this lesson to warn us about what will happen should we fail. If we cannot bear the cost of discipleship, we stand to be mocked just as the builder is ridiculed when unable to finish building a tower. Just like a warrior who doesn’t bring enough firepower to win a battle.

But I skipped something, and this sentence is the hinge pin between the two parts. “Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.” We are told we have to put Jesus above all else. And we are warned about the results of following without being fully engaged. But what does it mean to carry our cross?

Theories abound. Some New Testament language scholars see bearing the cross as the metaphorical beginning of discipleship. We do in our lives as Jesus does on his journey. Others compare this to taking on a yoke, its mantle representing the patibulum, the horizontal piece of the crucifix. Others attribute this phrase to a popular expression which was originally a curse applied to the zealots and later to Jesus’ followers, “Ah, take up your cross.” Perhaps it was some sort of rallying cry having militaristic characteristics. “Take up your cross!” But there is one theory I find quite interesting.

In ancient Israel, the Greek letter “Tau”, our letter “T” was worn by some as a cultic mark, a sign of protection and possession. After the crucifixion, the Tau was related to the historical cross of Jesus as a seal of possession in Christ. While scholars do not think that this was in the mind of Jesus, perhaps it was in the mind of those who wrote this gospel. Now, don’t worry, this is not a call for all of us to go and get tattoos. The Tau is a sign, a symbol. Symbols communicate action; they do not perform the action. We have another symbol to communicate this action.

We carry the cross in the waters of our baptism. As some took the Tau as a symbol, we accept the water as the sign that we rise and die and rise again with Christ. As Jesus called the followers to take up the cross daily, we are called to remember our baptism. In our baptism we accept Jesus’ call to faithfulness, rebirth, and covenant into the body of Christ.

Several years ago, on a rainy Easter Sunday in Austin, Texas, the Reverend Doctor Ellen Babinsky began the service of the Lord’s Day by saying that it was damp and that in our baptism we are called to live wet. The morning was rainy and sloppy. We were never promised that living wet would be tidy; on the contrary, living wet is frequently sloppy.

In 1993, Honor Books published “God’s Little Instruction Book, Inspirational Wisdom on How to Live a Happy and Fulfilled Life.” What the book does is couple little insights with scripture. I’ll admit some of them bother me. For example, “There is a name for people who are not excited about their work—unemployed.” This isn’t a pastoral thing to say.

Another is “the best way to forget your own problems is to help [solve someone else’s].” While this is not inappropriate under many circumstances, this advice can be a disaster for problem solvers with mental health issues. This “inspirational wisdom” could make matters worse for both.

When the authors remind us “If at first you don’t succeed, try reading the instructions,” I just hope the instructions don’t contain an idiom translated from Ancient Greek. This is the problem with clichés. These guides to a “happy and fulfilled life” are so glossy that when forced to bear the weight of the cross they crumble like sand castles. The way of the discipleship is more precious than simple sayings.

One of my favorite movies is Rob Reiner’s “The Princess Bride.” If you have never seen it, then after church get supper to-go from Lucille’s or Benchwarmer Brown’s or Taco Mayo or Micky-D’s or your favorite restaurant and pull it up on Netflix. You’ve deprived yourself and your children too long.

The image from the cover of the bulletin has two characters from the movie, Mandy Patinkin as Inigo Montoya, and Wallace Shawn as Vizzini. Vizzini has been hired to kidnap the Princess Buttercup and has hired a swordsman, Inigo, and a brute played by the late professional wrestler Andre the Giant to assist him. Vizzini as the brains of the operation has laid out a diabolical plot, but he is being followed by a Man in Black who seems intent to thwart their plans.


Every time the Man in Black gets closer, Vizzini gets more flustered. Every time Vizzini gets flustered, he cries out, “Inconceivable!” Finally, after the fifth time Vizzini cries out “Inconceivable” Inigo says “You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.” As for our reading, Jesus says we have to hate our families, but as we now know, that does not mean what we think it means.

As for me, I believe that the bible is always right; but I know I get things wrong. There are things we don’t understand. Great is the mystery of faith. What we must understand is that we are called to live in community, in the assembled body of Christ, living wet, and bearing our crosses.

Fortunately, we have the perfect role model for this relationship. We have the example of Jesus who as a person teaches us how to relate to one another with humility, love, grace, and forgiveness. We have the example of Christ the Lord who models the perfect relationship; existing as one in three in an eternal dance of being in community. When we live wet, when we bear our cross in Christ, then we can follow and be his disciple. Amen.