No one’s favourite scripture

Does anyone here have a favourite scripture verse or passage? Something you memorized as a child perhaps or a text a friend wrote in a book that was given to you as a gift? Maybe there is a message that you turn to in times of joy or sorrow or one that haunts you as you struggle in your journey of faith. One thing is likely true – no matter why a text is your favourite – today’s reading from Luke’s gospel doesn’t make anyone’s “top 10”! It is a tough one to find hope or promise in.

Jesus turns to the crowd following him one day and makes it clear that anyone who wants to continue on this path needs to consider the cost – anyone intent on following Jesus must ask, "How much will I have to give up to be a disciple?” It costs time and talent and treasure to be a follower of Jesus. Discipleship is expensive so think twice before you decide to follow Jesus. The words recorded here pronounce a hard and challenging message that we would prefer to soften in any way possible. Surely, he can’t really mean it the way it sounds.

Large crowds are traveling with Jesus – going along with him – and the cost of discipleship is at the forefront. In this passage Jesus is not discouraging people from following him – he is discouraging them from following him without counting the cost.

The people in the crowd don’t really know where Jesus is leading them. Sure, they know they are headed towards Jerusalem. They know Passover is drawing near – they have eaten their fill of leftovers, seen miracles, and witnessed religious leaders put in their place. Yet, they have no idea where Jesus is ultimately headed. They are on the road to Jerusalem – a symbol of religious power and authority – but Jesus is leading them to the cross – a symbol of forsaking self for God. So, despite the thousands flooding through towns and trampling over fields, Jesus turns to warn them…

“None of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions.”

“Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple.”

Discipleship will quite likely cost more than expected – perhaps they will be surprised by the burden of following Jesus. Most of us will not be asked to give our freedom – our homes – our security – or our lives for the sake of the gospel. However, what about the other costs – the giving up of self that we are so reluctant to do? The giving up of a lot of our self-control, which is no easy thing, so God might rule in us. The giving up of hatreds and resentments against those who have injured or slighted us? The giving up of meaningful amounts of cash money to God's work – money we might like to spend for our own pleasure and comfort? And for you in this congregation, it is now giving up the security of a called minister of 22 years – venturing into a time of discernment as you imagine the future to which God is calling you.

Today’s reading from the Gospel of Luke contains a collection of sayings about the cost of following Jesus – about being prepared to sacrifice everything – letting go of all possessions and attachments to focus on the abundant life of peace, love and justice-seeking God calls us to. To truly follow and embrace the life Jesus offers the first requirement according to these sayings is to hate – to hate mom and dad, spouse and kids, your whole family and yourself into the bargain. Is there anything Jesus could have said which would be harder to hear?

Hate in this context is not the emotionally laden word we experience but it is still a powerful expression meaning to turn away from, to detach oneself from. Hate – like love – is not so much about emotions as it is about actions. To hate is to not love. It is to turn away from – to detach oneself from. It is a strong word – especially for one’s stance toward family. It means even being willing to live without these loved ones – not being so attached to them that their well-being, or even our own survival, is our priority.

Jesus uses this hyperbole to impress upon his listeners – to impress upon us – the significance of discipleship. He uses it precisely because it makes us wince – because it challenges our personal security and identity. In the network of many loyalties in which all of us live, the claim of Christ and the gospel not only takes precedence but redefines the other relationships – involving some detaching, some turning away. Our love of God is greater than our love of mother and father – more than our love of spouse and children – more than love for brothers and sisters – greater even than love of our own lives. Jesus warns us that our love and commitment to him – our discipleship – is so earth shattering and costly that by contrast our relationships with family will look like neglect – even hate!

It’s a provocative statement that has lost little of its offensive power over time – and the next sentence is supposed to be offensive too, though it has lost much of its power from our perspective. Today we see crosses mostly as pieces of jewelry – as decorations for churches – as part of the logo of an organization – as a symbol of respectability and privilege. But that's not what the cross represented in the first-century Roman Empire.

When Jesus preached this message and Rome ruled Israel there was only one image of the cross – crucifixion was regular and widespread. It was the worst form of torture that imperial Rome could invent. To walk the main road that led into Jerusalem would be to see at times, thousands of crosses lining the way – each with either a fresh victim of empire nailed or tied to a cross, or a decaying and rotting corpse causing a great stench to hang over the roadway. The cross was a symbol of enslavement, subservience, and the utter powerlessness of the people.

Unless we have seen with our own eyes and smelled with our own nose the horrors of such things in places like Vietnam, Rwanda, Serbia, Afghanistan, Iraq, Gaza and Ukraine we can't really grasp what it must have been like. Nor can we grasp the absolutely insanity that the words of Jesus must have conjured up for his prospective disciples when he told them that to be truly his they must “carry the cross” and follow him.

Think about the hands of the potter we heard about in the reading from Jeremiah, the hands that shape the clay – and when he sees that the pot is spoiled, he pounds and reshapes it into a new and better form – until it is pleasing and useful to him. We can assume that is not a comfortable process for the clay – but the results, hopefully, are worth it. There is a difference between simply loving God – loving Jesus – and being his disciple. Jesus’ disciple is one who fights for justice – stands up for peace – speaks out for worthy causes – one who takes up the cross and follows him.

Jesus uses graphic images to remind us that God wants more than our eagerness to receive. He uses words about hating all those we should love to shock us, and he uses words about taking up the cross to horrify us. He wants to wake us up to what is at stake – to prepare us for the taxing life of discipleship – to help us realize that for Christ’s followers there is more to loving God than feeling thankful, more than simply waiting for God show up and make everything okay. God's intention is to shape us into those who are Christ-like, to form and transform people to become a blessing to others. God’s hope is that we will enter into union with Christ – costly discipleship – that we will be true followers of Jesus – vessels able to receive divine love – vessels able to hold that love and then to pour it out in the world.

The two brief parables that follow Jesus’ sayings about discipleship appear to recommend a very practical approach to Christian commitment. Both stories reinforce the message that prudent action is key – that at the very least one will try to avoid disaster. In the first scenario, if a peasant building a watchtower to ensure that no animal or human predator threatens the fields must abandon the project when it is half completed due to a lack of funds, he or she will be a laughingstock. Similarly, in the context of international politics, it is only common sense that a ruler contemplating a war will consider the possibility of success. If his or her army is vastly outnumbered, the wise ruler pursues a diplomatic path. The hope is that one will recognize the cost before beginning a venture and will therefore choose one’s course prudently and realistically.

In the same fashion, we must go into the venture of discipleship – set out on the journey with Jesus – aware that it may lead us in unexpected directions – prepared to pay the price that following may entail. Followers of Jesus are required to let go and focus attention on their discipleship. Are we ready for that? Can we relinquish our hold on everything that gives shape and substance to our lives – everything in which we find security? Can we understand the costly discontinuity between life and business as usual and the life of discipleship? Do we even want to hear it? Are we prepared to give up anything – let alone everything – because God wants to renew and remake us?

Years ago, when I told my parents that I planned to go to seminary and study for ordained ministry, my mother said that the whole process – the study, the upsetting of family, the moving and the personal commitment would all be hard on my marriage. I remember thinking that it was a very negative thing to say. Considering today’s reading though, I am wondering… was she just warning me – just making sure I was prepared – helping me to see the cost of discipleship? The call to study for ministry was difficult at times, it put a strain on our marriage – on our whole family at times. It required letting go – still requires letting go – in ways that I struggle with. It was not easy to leave my husband on Monday knowing I wouldn’t see him again for several weeks. It was hard to hear the dog bark and poke at me with his muzzle when he saw me take the suitcases to the car. I wanted to hug my son and new daughter-in-law for a long time and hope to see both my sons at Thanksgiving. I know that discipleship would be impossible without God – without the promise that no matter the demands of discipleship, divine presence continually knits me together.

There is no cheap grace – we need to count the cost of discipleship and be willing to sacrifice our own comfort to follow the way of the cross. Perhaps this passage of scripture is nobody’s favourite precisely because it demands that we count the cost of discipleship and commit to following Jesus all the way – something that is only possible by God’s grace which we receive with open hands, and to open those hands we must let go of all that would frustrate the reception of God’s abundance. Care for one another and for the earth – peace, love and justice seeking – can’t occur from a place of complacency. We need to be willing to sacrifice. God requires a changed lifestyle. The abundance God promises will be found when we let go of ownership and place our lives fully in divine hands. This is a difficult word for all of us to hear. God is the potter – we are the clay. Amen