September 4, 2022
Rev. Mary Erickson
Hope Lutheran Church
Luke 14:25-33
The Marvelous Cost of Discipleship
Friends, may grace and peace be yours in abundance in the knowledge of God and Christ Jesus our Lord.
This is Labor Day weekend. Typically, we think of Labor Day as the last big holiday of the summer. It’s about backyard cookouts and the Minnesota State Fair. It marks the unofficial end to summer. After Labor Day, school begins again and we’re back to the fall routine.
Labor Day began more than a century ago. In the late 1800’s the working conditions for laborers were extremely poor. They worked 12 or more hours a day, six days a week. They worked in unsafe and crowded conditions. They lived in poverty. Laborers weren’t valued.
The first Labor Day parade occurred in New York City in September 1882. Thousands of workers took the day off without pay so that they could participate in the parade. It was a demonstration of the value and dignity of laborers. Labor Day became an official national holiday in 1894.
On this Labor Day weekend, we lift up the significance of our daily labors, our vocation. The word “vocation” derives from the Latin root “vocatio.” It means “calling.” Our vocation is our calling. Perhaps you think that only people in my profession are called. Society tends to limit the sense of calling to people in holy professions. But that completely short changes the biblical understanding of our labors. We’re all called into service in Christ’s name.
There’s a saying attributed to Martin Luther: “The Christian shoemaker does his duty not by putting little crosses on the shoes, but by making good shoes, because God is interested in good craftsmanship.”
We are each endowed with a call to serve our neighbor and our world. We serve in a variety of ways. St. Paul likened us to a body with all its separate organs and parts. Each unique body member fulfills its peculiar function and that allows the body as a whole to flourish.
Likewise, it takes ALL of us with our unique abilities and paths of service to the world. We each have our necessary gifts to offer.
In our passage today from the gospel of Luke, Jesus sees the massive crowds of people who are following him. He considers all the reasons they may have chosen to tag along. Are they there to see a spectacle? Did they come to witness for themselves this new personality who is trending hotly? Are they following so that they might see a flashy miracle?
Jesus lays it out to them. “Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.” Crosses were not blingy, glamorous things worn around the necks of rock stars. They were instruments of agonizing torture and death. People avoided crosses then.
Jesus wants people to give some thought to their actions. Why are the following him? To really follow him involves a cost, a cost to their lives. Following Jesus isn’t meant to be just one more area of interest in their busy, diverse lives. It’s meant to be the heart and center of all that they are. Have they considered the cost of discipleship?
He uses some language that’s not immediately understandable to us. “Whoever comes to me and doesn’t HATE their parents, spouse and children – even life itself – can’t be my disciple.”
To hate something in the way Jesus states was a figure of speech in his culture and day. It didn’t mean to despise and loathe something. In this context, it was comparative. It means to love something less than another thing. Jesus is saying that you can’t place your life or family or material things above your faith and commitment to following him. Jesus is saying, “Love your family, love your life. But love me MORE. Place me in the very center.”
Jesus is calling them – and us – to stop and consider. Think on what your faith means to you. Think and pray. Have you placed your faith on a back burner? Is it something that’s nice to fill in your empty crevices when you have a little extra time? Where does your relationship with God fall? This is your God, your creator and sustainer. This is the divine source of life in whom you live and move and have your being. This is your Savior, who came to redeem you from sin and death, who loves you, you so much that he poured out his all for your redemption.
Jesus turns and says to them, stop and consider. Where is God in your life? Have you sidelined God? Don’t follow me, he says, unless you’re all in.
Jesus tells them two parables that have to do with counting the cost. When considering a large building project, first do the math to see if you have the financial means to finish it. Or before engaging in a war, make sure your military has what it takes to meet the power of your opponent.
It reminds me of the signs you’ll see along highways out west. State highway 140 in Nevada, for instance. It stretches through an extremely lonely corridor of the state. As you come near to a gas station, there is a sign. Gas, one mile. Next gas 179 miles.
The sign forces you to consider. Do I have enough fuel to make it to the next stop? Do I need any food or water? Can my bladder make it another 179 miles?
Jesus is asking us to stop and consider the cost of discipleship. Following Jesus involves a cross. He says there’s a cross with your name on it. And he invites you to take it up and carry it.
What does your cross look like? Each one of our crosses is widely different. We may be called to carry different ones during distinct chapters of our life. When a loved one undergoes a sudden health crisis, you spring into action to help in any way you can. As your parents age and face new challenges, you pitch in to help with everyday chores. During critical COVID-19 outbreaks, medical personnel worked grueling, long hours to tend to an extremely sick population.
Our crosses are all very different. But they all bear similarities. They are something we take up voluntarily for the sake of another. At times they may be thrust upon us rather forcefully. But they are all calls. We are called to them. We are called to serve, serve our neighbor and serve our world. We are called by none less than the love of Christ. In our service, through our labors, we become instruments of Christ’s love to the world.
A cross, by definition, comes with a burden. But they are also the vehicle through which our lives will gain their greatest meaning and purpose. They will involve carrying a load for our neighbor, but in them is the source of our joy and our fulfillment. In losing ourselves in service, we gain the true meaning of our lives.
Jesus calls us to view our lives through the lens of the cross. How does the cross you are called to carry affect how you will live your life? How does it inform the use of your financial assets for the benefit of others? How does it affect the way you see your neighbors and community? Your family, friends and colleagues? Jesus calls us to stop and consider, think and pray. Consider your cross, your calling, the vocation and purpose of your life.
Jesus did just that. Frequently, he retreated to a lonely place to pray. On the night of his betrayal, the shadow of his cross loomed heavily upon all of Jerusalem. On his knees in the Garden of Gethsemane he prayed fervently. “If at all possible, let this cup pass from me. However, not my will, but your will be done.” He considered the cost of his cross, and it was heavy. It would require his all. But the vocation of his life was to be the savior of the world. He did not run from his cross. He embraced it. And in his cross, he fulfilled his cosmic meaning and purpose. Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.
