Have any of you ever tried to put an injured cat into a carrying case to take it to the vet? How many of you got scratched for your pains?
It doesn’t seem quite fair, does it? All you’re trying to do is help. Animals are supposed to be so intuitive; many people claim they can actually smell whether or not you’re friendly, or afraid, or whatever. Why don’t they recognize that what you’re doing is for their own good?
But no, of course they don’t - that’s not the way it works. Even with people. Maybe especially with people. Any police officer will tell you that domestic violence calls can be some of most dangerous ones they get. The battling couple often take time out from pounding on each other to take a swing at the helpful cop.
You get the same sort of reaction with evangelism, too. Oftentimes the more people need the gospel, the more they resist it. The old hymn charges us to “Rescue the Perishing,” but it’s not that easy. Why don’t people realize, when you try to share the gospel with them, that you’re motivated by a desire to help, for their own good? So many people nowadays seem to take it as a threat, if not an actual personal attack. And I understand where they’re coming from. In my pre-Christian days I was pretty hostile and defensive, too.
Not everybody who is dying wants to be saved.
Not everybody who is lost wants to be found. Because most of the time people don’t know they’re lost. People are like bees, as C.S. Lewis said, that “boom against the windowpane for hours, thinking that way to reach the laden flowers.”
We all want to have the good things in life - however you define them... love, wealth, family, professional accomplishment - and make the choices we think will get us there. But what looks like the shortest way leads nowhere at all. Lewis’ poem ends, “left to her own will, she would have died upon the window-sill.”
God catches us however he can, intending to release us to eternal life, but we of-ten struggle, don’t we, like the cat trapped in the carrying case. We’re usually not ready to hear it at the beginning of the journey.
If I had known at the beginning where God was going to lead me.... I think that if God had laid it out in front of me and said, “Forget husband and children and successful career, I’m going to give you a 50% pay cut and the gift of celibacy” I would have said “Not today, thank you.”
I needed to have my consciousness raised first, so to speak.
God starts where you’re at. But don’t expect him to leave you there.
The disciples had been caught by the dream of Messiah. They didn’t have much more clue than the crowds did of what the Messiah actually was going to have to do, but they knew one thing. They knew Jesus was IT, they knew Jesus was THE ONE, they knew Jesus was THEIRS, even if they didn’t really understand where he was going.
There are three separate stories in today’s text. Each by itself has a half dozen sermons in it. But today I’m taking them as a set, a sequence of teachings that lay out for us what the life of disciple-ship looks like.
The first step is attachment. The second step is understanding. And the third step is imitation.
Attachment. Understanding. Imitation.
Feeling, thinking, and doing.
All of these are necessary for discipleship. They don’t come in the same order for each one of us, as a matter of fact most of us tend to keep going round and round, first concentrating on one angle, then switching to another. But attachment is - even if not always the first - always the most important, because attachment keeps us holding on to Jesus even when we don’t understand, even when we’re tired, or scared. And attachment is another word for love. It is an attitude of recognition, response, and commitment.
"Once when Jesus was praying alone, with only the disciples near him, he asked them, 'Who do the crowds say that I am?' They answered, 'John the Baptist; but others, Elijah; and still others, that one of the ancient prophets has arisen.' He said to them, 'But who do you say that I am?' Peter answered, 'The Messiah of God.' He sternly ordered and commanded them not to tell anyone." [Lk 9:18-21]
The first light had dawned. The disciples had figured the most important thing out. They followed Jesus in the first place because there was something special about him, to be sure; but what exactly was it? There must have been as many reasons as there were followers. Some followed him because he called them, because he saw them and spoke to them and wanted them. Some came because they wanted to know more about God, and Jesus was a holy man, one who taught with authority. Some came because he had healed them, either physically or spiritually. They all had hopes and expectations; some even had particular personal agendas. Remember the way they argued over who would get positions of power in the kingdom? But at the beginning, they weren’t sure exactly who he was. They just knew that this was where they wanted to be, this was who they wanted to be with. Their commitment was to Jesus first, and because of that, even when their expectations were shaken, their love for him remained. When it comes to God, the personal is primary.
And that is why, I think, that Jesus told them not to tell anyone who he was. Because if they went around proclaiming that the Messiah had arrived, then people would expect him to do and be for them all that they had imagined a Messiah would do and be. The Judeans dreamed of an independent and powerful kingdom, of ruling over the Romans and the Greeks, of seeing the nations who had conquered and oppressed them, laughed at their traditions and scorned their gods, brought to their knees. They were filled with visions from Isaiah, from Zechariah, from Joel, of “threshing floors filled with grain, the vats overflowing with wine and oil,” [Joel 2:24] from Amos, of “mountains dripping with sweet wine,” [Amos 9:14] of the temple rebuilt to outshine the glory of Solomon’s day, lined with cedar and ivory, gold and silver, and the treasury filled with the riches of nations. That’s what a Messiah does, you know.
A good friend of mine, a very highly educated Jewish woman, asked me once how I could possibly believe that Jesus was the Messiah, since he didn’t do what the Messiah was supposed to do, namely, restore the kingdom of Israel. I tried to explain that the Israel Jesus restored was a different sort of kingdom, a kingdom of the heart, but she wasn’t convinced.
So if the Messiah’s presence were too widely advertised, when Jesus didn’t give the crowd what they wanted, they would turn and tear him to pieces. And of course that is what the mob did, eventually, and he knew that was what they would do, but it wasn’t the time yet.
The disciples weren’t ready. They loved him, they stuck with him even with the confusion about the strange things he said sometimes, and his delay in starting to do real Messiah-type liberation stuff, but they didn’t know enough to stand firm when the storm came. And even with all Jesus’ teaching, when the time came they still didn’t get it. But their love for Jesus, and for each other, kept them together even when everything else had fallen apart.
The disciples had gotten a good start. They were in elementary school. They taken the bait, they had become attached. But they didn’t know what it meant.
But then Jesus started on the next step, getting his followers to understand what it really meant, to be the Messiah. This is a real turning point in the gospel of Luke; up until now, they’d been traveling around Galilee, listening to Jesus teach, watching him heal, going out on their own and trying it for themselves. But now they’re starting a new step on the journey. They’re headed toward Jerusalem. And it was time for the disciples to move on to more advanced material. Jesus told them what his mission was, he explained what he meant, then rephrased it, and then he explained it all over again. And they still didn’t get it. It might have been easier if the disciples had never heard of the Messiah; then they wouldn’t have had so many false hopes to discard. But then if it hadn’t been for the promise of the Messiah, the nation wouldn’t have held the hope in their hearts that had kept Judea going all these years, and that had drawn them to Jesus in the first place.
God caught them with a real promise of real liberation. The people just didn’t know what real liberation meant, they didn’t know what the real problem was. They didn’t know that the real enemy wasn’t Rome, but far closer to home. Jesus went on to tell them that “The Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, chief priests, and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised.” [v. 22] In Mark’s gospel we see Peter responding to this with indignation and disbelief: ... [Jesus] rebuked Peter, and said, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are not on the side of God, but of men.” [Mk 8:23]
We here are in a very different position from the disciples. We know what happened to Jesus. We know that he was betrayed, abandoned, and brutally killed. We know that he did this voluntarily. We understand, finally, that it was God’s rule in the hearts of his people that Jesus came to restore, not an earthly kingdom. But the culture we live in is unalterably opposed to the message conveyed by Christ’s mission of suffering and death and is fighting it with every tool in its power.
A few years ago, a public school in Sydney, Australia, banned an Easter Passion Play because, they said, it didn’t meet government anti-violence guidelines. The school curriculum includes vivid accounts of the bloodshed which occurred during the early European settlement, but was not willing to allow the portrayal of an equally historical event because - although they did not say so - of its religious significance. The message of Christ’s suffering and death is a message about human nature. It is an unequivocal, unmistakable statement of our need for a salvation which comes from beyond ourselves. It is a stumbling block for all who think they can earn salvation by being good. It is an even bigger offense to those who do not believe they need salvation at all.
But we who are already Christians can kind of coast through high school; we’ve got the understanding part down, right? Sure, we can learn more details and quote more verses, but we know the basics. And besides, Jesus’ suffering was a long time ago and we know that by God’s power he rose from the dead so that we too can know God as Father and so it is really not a sad story after all but a joyful one and even though we repent during Lent and mourn on Good Friday we know that the resurrection is coming and it's not really sad. We don’t have to go through what the disciples went through in order to understand.
Or do we?
There were two things Peter and John and the rest had to understand, not just one. They had to learn that not only did the Messiah have to give up his life, but they did too. And that is where we struggle. An awful lot of people stay stuck right here in their Christian development. They’re attached to Jesus, they’ve mastered the basics, they keep the Commandments, at least the simple ones like avoiding false witness, theft, adultery, and murder. And they think that because they’re being good, God should reward them with a good life, and if things don’t turn out the way they want, that God is unfair or has broken his side of the bargain. Jesus promised his followers an abundant life, after all, and we all know what an abundant life should consist of, right? Just like the first century Judeans knew what the Messiah should do.
What does an abundant life mean for you?
Does it mean a successful career?
Does it mean family and children?
Does it mean good health, good wages, good friends, a good name?
Do you ever catch yourself thinking that you deserve these things, that you have a right to all of these things?
Our society is obsessed with rights. I heard a story the other day about a single woman minister - thankfully, not in our denomination - who chose to have a baby by artificial insemination because “she had a right to a baby.” Seems to me that her need for a baby would have been better met by adopting an unwanted child; after all there’s no shortage. Which illustrates another principle, that most of our needs can be met when we forget about our rights and start meeting others’ needs. But that’s not a popular view. An abundant life for most people means “more for me,” rather than “more to give.” Some people even justify sexual sins - all kinds, from homosexuality to adultery - on the grounds that God desires his children to be fulfilled, to know abundance.
What is it to know abundance, to be fulfilled?
Then he said to them all, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will save it. What does it profit them if they gain the whole world, but lose or forfeit themselves?" [Lk 9:23-25]
Jesus isn’t asking for us to give up things, although often giving up things is necessary for spiritual growth. What Jesus is asking us to give up is far more difficult. We have to give up our right to self-rule. It’s an imaginary right anyway; we’re all slaves of one thing or another; far better to be a servant of God, who after all has our interests at heart. But I digress.
Jesus is asking us to let him decide how and when he will bless our lives, and not insist that he deliver a scheduled benefit package. He is asking us to trust him, to follow him, to imitate him, even when being like Christ means being misunderstood, cursed, spat upon, run out of town, betrayed, hurt, slandered, you name it. Jesus is asking us to love him enough to stick with him even when we don’t understand why, even when we are tired or scared, even when life with him isn’t what we thought it would be. He is telling us that the discipleship course that we began with love, and continued with understanding, must now be completed with imitation. Understanding alone is not enough. You must - I must - we must - all follow. Because it is only through following Jesus - even to the death of our selves - that we come to share in his resurrection.
C. S. Lewis says that “all natural affections can be preparatory imitations of spiritual love, training spiritual muscles which his grace may later put to a higher service, as women nurse dolls in childhood and later nurse children.”
When God catches us, we often rebel against the means he uses to get us from where we’ve been stuck to the place where we can be free. Like that bee in the Lewis poem, who when caught in a handkerchief preparatory to being released into the garden, “who knows what rage she feels, what terror, what despair?”
But whatever God uses for bait in our spiritual infancy will be replaced by something better, more real, more lasting, more fulfilling. Paul said in his letter to the Philippians, "I regard everything as loss because of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things, and I regard them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ." [Phil 3:8]
Do we complain that we’ve moved up from strained peas to pizza? Do we complain about trading in our roller skates for sports cars? Are you still focused on toys? Are you protesting that the sprinkler has been turned off, and it’s hot, and you’re uncomfortable? And if you turn around or lift your eyes you’ll see a swimming pool - with Jesus waiting, even calling for you, to join him at the deep end.
What have you lost for Christ? If the answer is “nothing,” maybe you’re not really free after all.
Do you remember the old Janis Joplin song - although she’d probably be horrified that it’s being used as a sermon illustration - “Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose”?
What have you got to lose?
