Yikes. So, we need to hate our families to follow Jesus? That’s a tough pill to swallow. Tell me to lose all of my possessions. Tell me to let go of all that is important to me. But PLEASE don’t tell me to hate my family! That is a tough command!
Let’s look at this closely. “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.” These startling words are followed by two somewhat obscure examples of very ill-prepared people starting but not finishing projects. And then the last sentence: “So therefore, none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions.”
All week, as I worked on this sermon, I kept thinking about Bryan, Katie and Donna. They spent last weekend at an Iona retreat, starting the three-year journey toward priesthood. I wonder if they were instructed to first hate their families. Hope not! I’m eager to follow them and support them on this journey. I hope that all of us will look at these next couple of years as a time to work together on renewing and strengthening our faith.
A different translation of this passage says that whoever does not hate father and mother…etc., even life itself, is not able to be my disciple. So rather than ‘cannot be my disciple, it’s ‘is not able to be my disciple’. Somehow, this feels like if you just try harder, just lessen your hold on your attachments, you may be able to start down the road to discipleship. So: step one on the road to discipleship starts with distancing oneself from all that is held dear and putting Jesus first. Without that, you won’t be able to truly follow our Lord.
This got me thinking about Buddhism. Long ago, one of our bishops described himself as a “Buddha-palien” so I know it’s ok to bring Buddha into our church. In Buddhism, the primary cause of suffering stems from clinging to impermanent people, objects, ideas, and experiences. The path to enlightenment involves letting go of these attachments.
I spent a lot of time studying Buddhism, especially during the years that my late husband was dying. Death and dying are great teachers about impermanence. The biggest lesson was simple: Let go. Clinging and grasping just led to misery and failure.
As I grew in my faith over the years, I learned step two of this great lesson: Let God. Let Go, Let God. If I ever decide to get a tattoo, (which will never happen) I’d get that tattooed right here on my arm so that I could see it all day long. I definitely need reminding!
I think this is the teaching in today’s lesson. Step one: Let Go. Let go of family, let go of possessions, let go of what you are clinging to. Remember that cheesy saying that was so popular some time ago: “If you love someone, let them go”? The people and possessions will still be there. You just don’t have to be clasping onto them quite so tightly.
Then there is step two: Let God. Put God first. Make God your priority. Pray. Invite God into your decisions, into your daily life. Then pray some more.
But there is more to this gospel: those odd little stories in the middle of the guy building a tower without estimating the cost. He falls short and has a half finished tower for all to see. He is held up to ridicule.
Then there is the king who rushes into war without first figuring out the cost. He doesn’t have enough soldiers, the other king is stronger… gee, maybe he should have thought this out better. He must back out of his war.
These folks didn’t consider the cost before barreling forward. Jesus knew the cost of following him was considerable. Listen to this and see if following Jesus in the year 30 differs from following Jesus today. David Lose writes: “To follow Jesus, you see, was to question the religious and economic and even political status quo. If you were Jewish, it meant accepting as the Messiah this itinerant rabbi who hung out with the disreputable, accepted sinners, and preached a message of love and forgiveness. It meant, that is, accepting as Messiah one who looked almost nothing like the warrior king David they had expected. If you were Gentile, it meant accepting as the Messiah this itinerant rabbi who hung out with the disreputable, accepted sinners, and preached a message of love and forgiveness. It meant, that is, accepting as Messiah one who looked almost nothing like what the culture held out as powerful or important.”
“Moreover, following Jesus meant not merely adopting new beliefs, but a new way of living. To be a follower of the one who accepted and even honored the disreputable meant that you needed to do the same, rejecting the easy temptation of judging others and instead inviting them into our lives. To be a follower of the one who preached love and forgiveness was to practice the same, particularly when it comes to those who differ from you even, and maybe especially, in terms of what they believe.”
There are many ways to be a Christian. It seems that many people believe that they just have to say that they accept Jesus as their personal savior and then presto change-o, they escape eternal punishment and get guaranteed admission into heaven. How easy it is to be this kind of Christian. This drives me crazy.
I want to ask them: what about now? What about how you live your life now? Do you practice love and forgiveness? Do you see everyone as God’s children to be loved and cared for? That means everyone: disreputable people, people with brown skin, gay people, homeless people, people who vote differently than you. That’s what Christ calls us to do.
I don’t call myself a Christian. I say that I just try to follow the teachings of Christ. The cost of following Christ is hard, so hard. It's hard for me to be non-judgmental, hard to genuinely love my enemies, hard to be Christlike when I want to be sarcastic and snippy. But that is our charge: Put God first in your life, carefully consider the cost, before you call yourself a disciple, then let go and let God lead you through all your days.
Amen.