The Rev. Richard W. Budd, Ph.D., Rector
The Church of the Good Shepherd, Richmond, VA
Sixth Sunday of Pentecost, 6-26-05, Proper 8, Year A
 
Isaiah 2:10-17; 89:1-4,15-18; Romans 6:3-11; Matthew 10:34-42
 
And What About You . . . ?

There are many things we can do with this morning’s Gospel:  follow the emerging trend to simply ignore aspects of Scripture that seem unpleasant, -reinterpret it to be more consistent with our own personal image of Jesus, or-we can attempt to understand it in its own context, the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

We live in a conflicted age. What divides us seems more evident than what unites us. We take sides easily. We pour scorn on those who don’t share our views. If this is so of our social and political life—from parking lots to video games, where, after all, hurling insults are part of the landscape—it would follow, culturally, to give that sort of spin to this morning’s reading as well.

At the same time, the Gospel today does seem to say that Jesus is a divisive person—and we find that an odd way to look at him as well. Our vision of Jesus is often misted in sentimentality. We think of him drawing people to him, loving everyone unconditionally, and wandering around with a gentle smile on his face saying gentle things. We think this way about him not because this is the picture given in the Gospels, but because it’s a picture we need. “Gentle Jesus meek and mild” is more the product of our childhood than of the Gospel or of our experience of him in our lives.

     Jesus collided with many segments of first century Palestine. The Gospel today has him owning up to that reality. He says that he comes not to bring peace but a sword. He describes the conflict that he brings to families and households. But it is imperative to note that Jesus doesn’t say that this is his desire nor does he advocate divisiveness as a way of life. He simply faces reality.  Following Jesus has consequences—that is, being a believer and a follower in its fullest sense. Jesus simply regards truth as more important than temporary harmony in the family and in the community—only the Kingdom of God is ultimate.

And, what about you?

Secondly, Jesus does no violence to natural affection—it is clear throughout the Gospels that he honors it—that love is the preferred way of life among us here on the planet. But he does demand that he—in the name of the Father—comes first—with no rivals—and he speaks a truth that echoes back 4000 years recorded in Deuteronomy (32; 33) that nothing human shall take precedence over Almighty God.

He suggests that following him means the possibility of losing one’s life: Jesus said, whoever does not take up his cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.

Cross-bearing is an integral part of the Christian life.

     But we find it so easy to spiritualize all this; to attend to the demands our faith on some intellectual plane inside of our own heads. The thought that we are called to bodily give our lives over to follow Jesus seems rather fanatical!  Surely there is no need for our being a Christian to divide us from family, friends, habits, work, or political opinions?  After all, faith is a personal thing isn’t it?; it is often seen as rude and anti-social to openly discuss our faith around others.  Indeed, as a Society we render that task to acceptable icons like Billy Graham or priests or other ministers (who always seem to be the ones called on to say grace at public and even private events).

But Jesus didn’t say that we are to be the agents of division. He said that division will happen as a consequence of being his followers—and that is that! In today’s Gospel he goes on to say that one of the marks of a Cross-bearer, a life-loser, is in fact the capacity to welcome others. Jesus lists a few of those to be welcomed. They are “Prophets,” “righteous people,” disciples, and “little ones.” 

Jesus begins by saying that those who welcome his disciples welcome him. That is something for us to remember. Baptism inducts us all into the company of disciples. Hospitality towards other Christians isn’t to be based on whether we like their opinions but on their status. Another Christian is another Christian.  That’s worth remembering next time you get into a quarrel at a “church” meeting or accuse someone of not being a “real” Christian!  I’ve been there more times that I can count—and I will be there again.  But in spite of it, I will continue to give over not only my cloak, but my tunic as well when it is needed. Jesus is talking about a culture of love, his love: a habit learned through living a selfless life, a life-giving life, a life lived in Jesus.  You see—it is easier thought than actually accomplished.

And, what about you?

Jesus tells us to be kind to righteous people. That word “righteous” is rather frightening. It is easily confused with “self-righteous” folk who approve of their own behavior and judge others. That’s not what righteous means. A righteous person is someone who walks with God. We might prefer the word “holy,” or just plain “good.”

Unfortunately good people can be equally hard to take. Unlike self-righteous people, they don’t press their goodness, or flaunt their holiness. But they do seem odd. They make us feel small or even fraudulent, unless we have allowed ourselves to become weak in our need and strong in our trust of God. If that has happened, we have joined the ranks of the righteous.

      This is surely a timely message when we see around us so many conflicts, conflicts marked by the ways of the world rather than by the hospitality of discipleship. Following Jesus is not all about fighting for a cause. God doesn’t need our help and what God wants will finally be done on earth as it is in heaven. Following Jesus means walking into a holy, gentle, self-forgetting lifestyle lived in community. It means a costly learning to be like Jesus. One of the signs that we are doing this is our willingness to open our arms to others, and to take the risk of being abused in the process.

Yet risking being used, and indeed of losing everything, means following the path Jesus trod. Doing so makes us vulnerable.  It might mean giving up treasured earthly dreams and ambitions; it might mean sacrificing some of the precious treasure we have laid up for ourselves here on earth; it may mean a serious change in family values—or what it is a family currently values.

Which would you rather do - go to church on Sunday morning or play golf? Which would you rather you child do - attend a swim meet on Sunday morning or go to church? Which would you rather buy - steaks for dinner tonight or cans of beef for the food bank? Where would you rather be - coffee hour or Bible study? How easy is it for the world to intrude into your spiritual life? These aren't difficult questions to answer. The practicing of the answer is the hard part.

Let’s do something.  Make a list—forget the chaff and baubles of life—but make a serious list of the things nearest and dearest your heart.  Certainly the list will be headed by the people in your life—but then it will also be populated with things.  Homes, cars, jobs, titles, investment portfolios, golf clubs, things, and more things.

Now, what is there on your list that you wouldn’t give up for Jesus?

Don’t answer blithely, or from your intellectualized faith—but from the center of your life, from the core of your being.  Imagine that your life literally depends upon your answer.

In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.  Amen