The Cost of Discipleship

 A sermon preached at Old South Congregational Church, United Church of Christ, Hallowell, Maine, September 9, 2007.

Text:  Luke 14:25-33

The Rev. Susan M. Reisert, Minister

             For some time now, Christianity has been associated with the term “family values.”  And, these “family values” always have something to do with the dad, mom, kids construct, a well-defined bulwark against any other kind of family unit, especially, it seems, as the traditional mom, dad, kids, one marriage, no divorce, finds itself, in reality,  to be one of many different kinds of family structures. 

The relationship between family values and Christianity is so intertwined, so tightly woven, so prevalent, so as to think that it has always been this way, that this is a relationship made in heaven, if you will, that there is no question about its legitimacy as intended by God, ordained as God’s holy plan for creation—Adam, Eve, and the boys (we won’t go into their issues here) seeming to serve as the model for human life and society, and the transmission of the faith, that somehow this first family has come to serve as the foundational structure for all of human society.

In response to the increasing diversity of family life, many organizations have sprung up to support, encourage, even demand the institutionalization of only one kind of family—mom, dad, kids, maybe a pet thrown in there as well, the ‘traditional” family.  All with the notion that this is what God wants.  This is what God intends. This is what God depends on for the upholding of morality and the church.  And, if we don’t do it this way, then we will disappoint God, invite God’s vengeance, experience God’s anger.

            Here are just a few of the organizations that I’m talking about, most of which are well-known, well-funded, all integrating and weaving together the notion that Christianity is synonymous with family values, that this is a relationship made in heaven:  

            Family Research Council

            Traditional Values Coalition

            700 Club

            Pretty much every program on the Trinity Broadcasting Network

            Focus on the Family

            (and, on the local level) Maine Christian Civic League

            Yet, if you really think about it, the relationship between Christianity and family values, as it is put forward in our contemporary society, is an odd and awkward one, with some difficult scriptural grounding and problematic traditions and policies within the religious movement.  The central figure of our faith, the model for our lives, our Savior to whom we look for guidance—not to mention salvation—Jesus Christ, never married, never had children.  The chief evangelist, the one who spread the good news and persevered even under tremendous adversity to strengthen the fledging church and to spread it to the far reaches of the Empire, Paul, never married, never had children.  The other significant figure from early Christianity, Peter, who strengthened the central church, working mostly in and around Jerusalem, the one who was known as the rock, the solid foundation of the church, the first and the supposed model for the authority structure in the church, from which the line of popes emerged, well, he was married—like some of the other popes in the early development of the church.  But, somehow, that didn’t translate into how the traditions and policies would be framed in the structure of one of Christianity’s biggest and most influential denominations—the Roman Catholic Church.  Priests cannot marry or, at least, cannot be married when they enter the priesthood.  And, must remain so, with the whole structure of authority in the Church dependent on unmarried, childless, celibate men.

            And, then there are the words of Jesus himself, at least words as recorded by the Gospel writers, including today’s passage.  Consistently, throughout the Gospels, Jesus calls to his disciples to drop everything and to follow him—to leave everything behind: their stuff, their jobs, their families, too.  Leave them behind and to follow.

            In the Gospel of John, Jesus even rebukes his own mother, saying, “O woman, what have I to do with thee?”

            Just a couple of weeks ago, we heard Jesus preaching his mission of fire and division;  “Do you think that I have come to bring peace to the earth?  No, I tell you, but rather division!  From now on five in one household will be divided, three against two and two against three; they will be divided:  father against son and son against father, mother against daughter and daughter against mother,” etc.

            Where are the family values in these?

            And now there is today’s lesson:  “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.”

            Hate is the word used here—from the Greek word miseo.  You know, like misanthropy or misogynist.  Certainly a strong word—a very strong word.

            So, why does the Lord of Love, the one who so often reminded his followers that they were to love their neighbors as themselves, the one who told us to love our enemies, offer these harsh words about hating father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters?  Why the strong language?  Why the stark and difficult demands and expectations?  What’s Jesus’ issue with family?  What kind of family values are these?

            Well, if we find ourselves a little unsettled with Jesus’ demands that we hate our mother and father in order truly to be a disciple, these words would have been even more stinging to a first century audience.  These words would have been even more astonishing, even more unsettling.  If you think our society makes a big deal out of traditional family values, well, you should have seen the first century.

            In the first century, the family was the central structure for life in society.  The workings of the world depended on family and on family relationships.  And, those relationships went far beyond the nice, neat nuclear family that we usually think about.  It’s not just Ward and June, Wally and the “Beave” from Leave It to Beaver.  In the first century, it would have been them, plus a set of grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, etc.:  all considered close family.

            Jewish society and culture placed still more emphasis on the structure of traditional family—the nuclear family plus a whole bunch more.  The family not only propelled and ensured the family name and traditions into the future, the family was the means through which the tribes of Israel could find hope in a future.  So, the family was central, critical to the organization of society and culture.

            And, there’s Jesus shaking things up in a big, big way, telling those who would listen that he came to divide families, to create division.   He came to shake things up.  And, not “just because.”  He is doing this for a very important reason.  He is doing this because humanity somehow, somewhere, went off track, failed to understand God’s message, God’s intent, God’s guidance.  And, so Jesus comes to try to set everything right.

            In this particular incident on which we focus this morning, as in other passages that we have considered over the past couple of months, it is important to note that Jesus is using a rhetorical device that doesn’t translate well into English. These are stand up and take notice kind of words, but they must also be understood in context. 

It is NOT that Jesus is making a command that you MUST hate your father and mother, brothers and sisters, etc.  in order to be a good disciple.  Jesus is NOT calling his followers to hate, to gather up their emotional storehouses of hatred and to cast it on those to whom they are related.

            The device that Jesus is employing here is more about willingness, to be willing not so much to hate,  but to set yourself apart from your family.

            Well, you might ask, when would I ever need to do that?

            In this section of Luke, and in this passage as well, we have been looking at those things that get in the way, that impede our ability to be good followers, that obstruct the path to good discipleship.  Basically, in this section of Luke, we are faced with teachings that concern earthly security as opposed to divine security.  And, now Jesus turns to the family and says:  be careful about them too.

            Where is that you find your security?  Where is it that you place your trust?  Is it in some earthly thing—your possessions, your stuff, your money, your status, your power, in your tribe or community of people who are similar to you?  Do you place your security, your trust, your sense of yourself in your family, in your family relationships, in the traditional patriarchal family structure?  Well, Jesus says, that’s an earthly thing too.

            And, if it—or any of those other things—is getting in the way of your relationship with God, interfering with your faith, hampering your ability to follow Jesus, then you must be willing to let them go, to separate yourself from them.

            Jesus points squarely at those earthly places and things and reminds those who would listen to him that salvation and redemption cannot be found there.  Salvation and redemption, the fullness of life, cannot be found in earthly things—not even in family values.

            God asks for more.  God is calling for us to follow the more difficult path.  Make no mistake about that.

            As earthly creatures, we are indeed surrounded by earthly things.  We do have and cannot live without possessions, money, relationships.  Jesus uses stark language, then, to remind us to have the good sense, the wisdom from God’s grace, to know the difference between an earthly thing to which we cling for our own security and sense of self-worth AND the only thing that can truly provide security:  God, our Creator.  There is a difference, a profound difference.  Our faith, rooted in God’s profound love for us, will help us to discern that difference.

            To be a good disciple is to know that there is that difference.  We ought always to be vigilant about understanding that difference and always to be asking ourselves what comes first in our lives.  To be a good disciple is to know and to practice that God comes first, that God is the source of the only security that really counts.  To be a good disciple is to take the more difficult path where Jesus leads—even if we are the only ones doing so.   As far as Jesus is concerned, strength does not come in numbers; strength comes through faith.

            When we come to the Communion table, as we will today, this is really what we are doing, putting ourselves in Christ’s presence and asking for the strength that only He can provide, praying for the courage to make the choices that will make us good disciples, allowing God’s grace to be with us in a special way that we may be so filled as to know the difference between earthly sources that the world tells us will bring security and what we know in our hearts is the only source of true security:  God, Jesus Christ, the Holy Spirit.

            To come to the table is to know that the cost of discipleship is high, but it is not out of reach.

            Thanks be to God:  Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer.  The one who brings life yesterday, today and tomorrow; the one who calls us to follow the more difficult path. 

Amen.