Luke
9:51-62
Today at the 9:30
service we are celebrating a baptism which is always a wonderful event. But
honestly, there was a time when I didn’t necessarily think so. Back before I
became a priest I questioned the rationale of baptizing infants or young
children. It seemed a bit ridiculous to me that a child who had no idea about
what was going on, who hadn’t professed any belief in God, who, except for
being cute, really hadn’t done anything at all in his or her life was baptized
into the Christian faith. But because my focus was so much on what I perceived
as the worthiness of the one being baptized I totally missed seeing what was
really going on. For the wonder and truly awesome nature of baptism is not
found in the person who is getting baptized but in the God in whose name we
baptize. A God who is love. And that love is never in question. There’s nothing
we can do to earn or deserve it. In fact, when it comes to love there is no
earning or deserving. Love just is. And God loves so much that each and every
one of us - no matter our age, our understanding, our abilities - are all
invited to come and be baptized in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the
Holy Spirit so that from that moment forward we can grow even more fully in
relationship with God. For in baptism a deep and irrevocable bond that is
created which is witnessed to in word and deed as the priest anoints the newly
baptized with oil while declaring, “You are sealed by the Holy Spirit in
Baptism and marked as Christ’s own for ever.” Wow. That is amazing grace.
But how does that
stack up when we set it against our reading this morning from the gospel of
Luke when Jesus encounters some would-be followers? Skimming the surface of the
story it may be hard to see that generous grace at work. Like when Jesus says
to one person along the way, “Follow me.” The response is a yes but it includes
a request to first go back and bury his father - which sounds reasonable enough
to me. Yet Jesus replies, “Let the dead bury their own dead.” And to another
who’s ready to go, right after he says goodbye to his household, Jesus
declares, “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the
Kingdom of God.” Now if this means that disciples are expected to turn their
backs on those they love and follow Jesus with a never failing faith, one
without any doubt, hesitation, or question then I imagine that we all are sunk.
But perhaps
there’s more to it than that. What if Jesus isn’t saying that life in Christ is
an either/or proposition - either follow me or live your life - but rather a
both/and experience. I believe that’s what’s going on here. Notice that both
potential followers ask to take care of other business before following Jesus.
Both say something like, “Sure, I'll follow you, but first let me go and do
something else.” That’s the issue here. The “but first” tendency we all have in
our response to following Jesus. Am I the only one who sometimes thinks or
prays something along the line of, “Yes, Lord, I will follow, I will pray, I
will give, I will serve, I will forgive, I will whatever, but first I need to get a
job, pay the bills, do the laundry, raise the kids, make this move, get to
retirement...” You fill in the blank. The problem comes when we treat being a
disciple as one among many chores of life. Another thing to do. Something to
fit in between other demands and responsibilities. But this approach is deeply
flawed and couldn’t be further from the truth. For life in Christ is all
encompassing, full-time, 24/7. There’s no way it can be compartmentalized or
divided. So it really shouldn’t surprise us when Jesus refuses to accept the
“Sure I’ll follow you, but first let me…” approach. I wonder what Jesus would
have said if he had heard, “Yes, I will follow you and I will go bury my
father.” Or “I will follow you and bid my family goodbye.” For the
call to follow is a call to a way of life, a way of being, of loving, of
serving, of sacrificing in the midst of engaging in all the ordinary tasks of
life.
Which, quite
frankly, is easy to preach but much harder to do. And as an example of that we
need to look no further than to the very beginning of our reading. Jesus is
journeying towards Jerusalem. He sends messengers on ahead to the next village
so that preparations can be made. But, we are told, the villagers do not
receive Jesus. Indignant, James and John, not just any old run-of-the-mill
followers, but part of the inner circle of disciples, boldly ask Jesus, “Lord,
do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?” To
which Jesus answers with a rebuke. We do not know what the actual words were,
but we do know that Jesus’ whole life and mission speaks that rebuke - a rebuke
of the impulse we all have at times to lash out and hurt others when we feel
hurt or threatened. Now I don’t want to judge, but I think it’s safe to say
that James and John epically failed here. Yet Jesus doesn’t tell them to hit
the road. Get lost. That they are no longer fit for the Kingdom of God. Instead
they continue on, together, on the journey, the journey that leads to Jerusalem
where Jesus will reveal to them and to us the truly amazing grace of God’s good
news - that love is greater than hate, and life is greater than death.
It is into the
fullness of that love and that life that we are all called to live and to
follow - knowing and trusting that even when we experience our own epic
failures the love of God will never fail us, never turn us away. That is the
grace made known to us in baptism. We are sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked
as Christ’s own for ever.
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