September 8, 2019
Hope Lutheran, Eau Claire
Rev. Mary Erickson
Luke 14:25-33
“Oh, Boy!”
Friends, may grace and peace be yours in abundance in the knowledge of God and Christ Jesus our Lord.
Many of you may remember the old TV show “Quantum Leap.” The show was about a quantum physicist named Dr. Sam Beckett. He had developed the technology to leap into the past and into the body of some other individual. The only problem was that all the bugs weren’t ironed out of the process before Sam stepped into the leaping chamber. Now he is stuck in a cycle of leaping from one situation into another. He can only hope that his next leap will be the leap home.
There seems to be some force directing where Sam leaps. In every situation where he is placed, something is very much wrong. Sam seems to have been sent there on a mission. He needs to do what he can to help bring resolution.
By the end of every episode, Sam had accomplished what he was sent to do. The time had come for him to take another quantum leap. He found himself thrust into another time and place. It doesn’t take long for him to figure out the gravity of the new situation. Each show typically concluded with some type of cliff hanger predicament. And then it was time for Sam to utter his classic tag line. He said, “Oh, boy!”
“Oh, boy!” That’s what we say when we realize just how BIG something is. We might say it when we walk into a fudge store in Hayward and see three dozen types of fudge before us. Or we say “Oh, boy!” when we see the dark wall of a storm front moving in from the west.
It’s something we say, when, like Sam Beckett, we step into a new situation and realize just how big this really is. We didn’t realize the full scope of this project, this endeavor.
Every year at this time there are several college freshmen who step into a very new environment. Any of us who have been through that experience can relate to the feeling! There you are, in a whole new situation. Your world has changed and there is no going back. “Oh, boy!”
You might want to say “Oh, boy!” when you start a new job. It’s one thing to sign on the dotted line and commit yourself to this new endeavor. But when you start the job and you begin to realize the scope of everything that your new job entails, now it’s real. “Oh, boy!”
Or first-time parents: it’s one thing to want a baby and to look forward to having that baby enter your family. But it’s quite another thing once baby arrives. You might find yourself saying “Oh, boy!” even if it’s a girl!
Question: If we had known the full extent of the demands that would be placed upon us, would we still have said yes to the endeavor?
In the gospel story we hear today, Jesus is journeying to Jerusalem. He going there for a reason: to be crucified. While on the way he sees crowds of people all clamoring to be near him. And they’re not just crowds. They’re LARGE crowds. They’re following him to Jerusalem like he’s the Pied Piper. The crowds followed Jesus naively. They didn’t fully know what following him meant.
Or, perhaps, they were following him without commitment. Fair weather followers, they were. And they would soon fall away when the temperature heated up. Indeed, this was true even of his disciples!
Or maybe they would follow for as long as they heard what they liked. But as soon as Jesus’ words don’t fit their notions, they’ll go back home.
Jesus eyes them and he STOPS. He stops dead in his tracks and turns around to face them. He says the words we hear today. And they are hard words. What Jesus says is difficult to hear. He speaks about a cost, the cost of discipleship.
His words shocked them then and they still do today. He uses strong words. We must HATE mother and father, family and children – even our own life! And then he uses cross language.
In our day and age, we don’t fully get the full impact of talking about crosses. For us, the cross is THE primary symbol of Christianity. It’s everywhere. You see blingy crosses on jeans pockets. You see big, gold crosses around the necks of athletes. Crosses are everywhere.
But the cross was a devastating feature in Jesus’ day. It was downright horrible and ominous. It was so terrifying that it wouldn’t become a symbol for Christianity until after the Roman emperor Constantine ended persecution of Christians. Until then, crosses were a very real thing for many Christians.
But Constantine changed that. Constantine had been in conflict with his chief foe, Maxentius. A power struggle was going on over who would rule the great Roman Empire. The conflict heated up until it became apparent that only a battle would solve the question of who was to rule.
Both sides weighed the cost of going to battle. Did they have what it took to win? The day before they went to battle, Constantine had a vision. He looked up at the sun. And there, above the sun, he saw a cross of light. And with it were the words: “In this sign, you shall conquer.”
Constantine instructed all his soldiers to place the sign of the cross on their shields and standards. The next day, Constantine’s forces met those of Maxentius on the outskirts of Rome. Constantine’s forces won a decisive victory. Constantine became the undisputed leader of the Roman Empire. The following year, he declared Christianity to be a valid religion recognized by the empire. He also ended crucifixion as a means of execution.
We stand on this side of Constantine. To us, the specter of the cross seems like a dim and distant reality. But Jesus said to that crowd, “whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.” Those words would have had quite a powerful impact. Talk of crosses was unsettling.
Jesus declares that there is a cost to discipleship. Following him won’t always be a walk in the park. Far from it. It will cost you your everything.
Discipleship in Jesus calls us to a life of servanthood. A servant is not the center. A servant is secondary to the person or thing being served.
Parents are servants. Their entire function as parents is to make sure that their children are well cared for and equipped for life. Their child comes first before all else.
We’re coming up on the anniversary of 9-11. On that fateful day, there were firefighters who made the ultimate sacrifice. While others were running away from the burning towers, they ran into it.
Today is Rally Sunday. We are launching another year of our educational ministries. This morning, our volunteers in these ministries have been prayed over. We’ve asked the Holy Spirit to bless and equip them during the year to come. They are servants.
We’re also having a Mission Fair. During our fellowship hour you can visit the tables in Olson Hall to find out more about many ways you can serve in our various missions. What does our involvement in these ministries mean? What might they exact from us?
There’s something very interesting about servanthood. In giving ourselves away, we actually wind up discovering who we really are! It may seem like we’re losing ourselves. But in God’s economy, we inherit and discover a whole new sense of self.
This servant path of discipleship was Christ’s pathway. He was on his way to Jerusalem. And specifically, he was looking to a certain hill outside the city walls. Golgotha, it was called. He knew full well the cost of his own discipleship. It would cost him his family, his closest friends. It would demand his full humiliation. Before all was said and done, it would cost him unimaginable pain and finally, his death.
That was the cost. But the gain, the gain was all he could see. The gain was his prize. And that gain was us! In his cross, we have been made free
On a lonely stretch of beach there were two would-be swimmers. One cautiously approached the waterline and tested the temperature with a quivering toe.
The other threw caution to the wind. He ran down the beach sands towards the shore, screaming all the way. Building a full head of steam, he dove head first into the waters. He immersed his whole self, temperature be what it may.
Jesus makes no bones about the bittersweet nature of a life of faith in him. He doesn’t come donning rose colored glasses. The waters of discipleship sometimes run warm, like a balmy Mediterranean inlet. And at other times they run as cold as the Alaskan Bering Sea. But whatever they may be, Jesus invites us to follow him. He bids us to dive head first into those waters, to drench our lives in it. What does your discipleship look like? Come and see! “Oh, boy!”
