Those Who Can’t

Luke 14:25-35
One of the joys of being part of a clergy couple is the conversations my wife and I have concerning scripture in particular and church life in general. Just this morning––knowing that I had not yet posted my blog for today––my wife called the gospel passage to my attention and made a very helpful observation. The gist of our conversation was that in today’s gospel reading, and especially in the two related parables about the half-built tower and the king with too small an army, Jesus was talking about himself. Looking ahead to his passion, Jesus knew that in what he was about to do he would seem like an abject failure. Even his followers would desert him. So Jesus offered these words of warning to all who would listen: "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. Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.…So therefore, none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions” (Luke 14:26-27, 33).

The one aspect of faithful discipleship that seems most problematic, especially to those of us who live in the western world and who, by global standards, are quite prosperous, is the call to let go of everything, to leave behind all that we hold dear––family, possessions, life itself. If we can’t do that, we will find discipleship to be impossible. If we do not have it within us to build a tower of faithful obedience, if we do not have the strength to wage a successful war against our idolatrous tendencies, if we cannot bear the thought of sharing in Jesus’ apparent failure on the cross, then we will likely turn back and go no further. But if, by God’s grace and with God’s help, we are able to let go of all that holds us back, if we are given the courage we need to suffer the loss of what we call life, then we walk on toward Jerusalem.

The good news is that God alone gives us the ability to respond to Jesus’ claim on our lives, God alone makes of us what we can be in light of the gospel message. God alone inspires us to see beyond the cross, beyond what the world calls failure, and to embrace the new thing that God is doing. Perhaps none of us are truly capable of choosing discipleship as the path we will walk, but with God nothing is impossible.

Prayer: Lord, help us to live as your people, following in the footsteps of faith that your Son Jesus Christ has set for us, that we may let go of all we hold dear and become instruments of your coming reign. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

The Taste of Death

Hebrews 2:5-18

What would death taste like? That question comes by way of the writer of Hebrews who uses an interesting turn of phrase in discussing the passion of Jesus Christ. “…(B)ut we do see Jesus…now crowned with glory and honor because of the suffering of death, so that by the grace of God he might taste death for everyone” (Hebrews 2:9). Jesus “tasted death” for all of us. But what does that mean?

Think of the common expression it was so close to me I could taste it. Taste requires proximity and Jesus came into real, physical contact with death. In fact, we might take that a step further and say that Jesus ingested death, took death into his being. For Jesus death became a part of his experience in the midst of humanity, just as real as eating (and tasting) food or drinking water. So death was real for Jesus, so real that it can be described an a sensory experience.

But in tasting death Jesus conquered it which means that we no longer must fear it. Yes, we will die, but to use a similar analogy through Jesus the bitterness of death has been removed. As an exchange student to Turkey in 1978 I witnessed––and for one day participated in––the Islamic holy month of Ramadan. Devout Muslims take the required fasting of that season so seriously that my host mother would not sample food she prepared for me during the day, and it bothered her that she could not be sure the food met her standards. Jesus has gone to the other extreme and made the way to eternal life palatable for those who follow him. Because Jesus tasted death we do not have to, not to the extent that he did, and certainly not with any fear.

What would death taste like? By the grace of God it no longer matters.

Prayer: Lord, we thank you for your Son Jesus Christ by whose faithful obedience we have been saved from the full grasp of death. In his name we pray. Amen.

The Hardest Prayer to Pray

Mark 14:27-42

Jesus’ prayer in the garden is, as far as I’m concerned, the most difficult prayer to offer. According to Mark Jesus prayed, “…Yet, not what I want, but what you want” (Mark 14:36b). The depth of obedience, the amount of faith required to utter such words–and to mean them–is staggering. Jesus, grieved almost to death, had already expressed a desire to avoid the passion that awaited him. Then he said, “Yet…,” and with that one word Jesus was able to dismiss his own desires and to embrace God’s will. “Not what I want, but what you want.”

“Yet” is the key to this prayer and the source of the difficulty. It reflects the other path that one would prefer while at the same time resigning oneself to go where God sends. “Yet” is about letting go of who we are and wrapping ourselves in the identity that God holds out to us. “Yet” means turning away from the culture and the society while grasping the cross of discipleship. “Yet” is a word that Peter would not be able to utter that night, for he would ultimately cling to his own view of things. “Yet” should probably be the way we begin all our prayers, but in truth it figures into very few of them.

I wish I was able to pray the word “yet” and to mean it. I wish my faith was that strong and my obedience that total. Meanwhile I take comfort in what Jesus was able to do for, letting go in order to accept the “yet” that God was holding out to him.

Prayer: Lord, help me to be more faithful and more obedient to you that I might accept your will for me. In Jesus’ name. Amen.