Homily: Yr C, Proper 23, Sept 8 2013, St. Albans
Readings: Jer 18.1-11; Ps 139.1-5,12-17; Phil 1-21; Lk
14-25-33
Photo by Jason Empey. Creative Commons License. |
There
is an organization that started in the United States and that now operates in
Canada called Focus on the Family. The
mission of Focus on the Family is to promote Christian family values. And I’ve got to believe that the folks at
Focus on the Family would be totally offended by today’s gospel.
Because
Jesus says, “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.”
What
sort of family values is Jesus promoting here?
And
if you think that Jesus’ statement about hating your family is offensive today,
just imagine how much more offensive it was when it was first uttered. In Jesus day, family was the linchpin that
held society together. You never left
the family home. Unless you were very
very rich, you couldn’t survive economically without your family. All of society was organized around
kinship. Even in the law, in the ten
commandments, the first commandment that talks about our relationships with each
other is, “honour your father and mother”.
Now,
we know that Jesus is using a little hyperbole here to get our attention. We know this isn’t about hatred, after all,
Jesus loved his mother, we know that from other parts of the gospel. This isn’t about hatred, but it is about
priorities, about the ordering of commitments and the sacrifices that this
entails. Jesus loved his mother. But he also left home instead of taking up
the family business like he was supposed to.
Jesus was a good Jewish man. But
he didn’t get married like he was supposed to. Why?
Because he had a higher priority.
God had given him a job to do, to proclaim the good news of God’s
kingdom to the people of Israel. And he
was committed to doing whatever it takes to fulfill that mission.
Next
week, a week Monday, I’ll be heading up to the Laurentians for our annual
clergy conference for all of the priests of the Anglican Diocese of
Ottawa. It’s a great opportunity for us
to spend some time with each other, catch up on news and listen to a guest
speaker. And in the evenings, some
years, a few of us like to get together and play some poker. Don’t worry, there’s no money involved, just
chips and pride. Our favourite poker
game is Texas Hold’em. Do you know how
that works? It’s the one you see on TV a
lot. You get two cards initially, and
then you bet before each of the other cards is turned up. And the trick in the game is figuring out how
to bet.
If
for example, I get a pair of aces as my opening cards, I know that I’m “all in”. I’m willing to bet all my chips to see the
rest of the cards and stay in the game right to the end.
If,
however, I get something like a two and five, then I know that I’m out. It’s not my hand, no sense sticking around or
wasting any chips to see more cards, I’m just out.
The
more difficult decision is when I get something like a King and a seven. In that case, my cards are good enough that I
could win if the right cards come up, but there’s no guarantee. And so what I want to do is to “hedge my bets”.
I want to try to hang around in the game at a low cost long enough to see the
next card turned up.
In
today’s gospel, there’s a lot of people in the crowd hedging their bets,
hanging around and waiting to see the next card turned up.
You
see, Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem, and there’s a big crowd traveling with
him. They’re curious. They’ve got some interest. Maybe there’s something they’ve seen or heard
about Jesus, or heard him say that captures their imagination. And so they’re along for the ride, they’re
not committed, they’re not “all in”, but they want to see what card turns up
next.
But
Jesus, he’s “all-in”. He’s taking his
proclamation about God right to the capital city of Jerusalem. He knows that his won’t be a popular message
with the authorities. Already the
religious leaders and political masters are out to get him, they’re plotting to
kill him – when he gets to Jerusalem, he’s a dead man. Jesus knows this, and he’s still all-in. But the crowds haven’t figured it out
yet. And so in today’s gospel, he’s
actually doing them a favour. Look,
Jesus tells them, if you want to follow me, there’s going to be a high cost to
pay. You might be arrested, you might
have to give up everything you own, you might be separated from your families,
you might even be killed. Now, I need
some of you to follow me, I need disciples who will be witnesses to what
happens in Jerusalem. But only come if
you’ve counted the cost and you’re committed to being all-in.
I’m
willing to bet that the crowds who traveled with Jesus on his way to Jerusalem became
a lot smaller that day.
I
think I get what Jesus words meant for the crowd that traveled with him on that
day some 2000 years ago. The bigger
question is, what do they mean for us today?
What do we do with all this talk of choices and priorities, of
commitment and of sacrifice?
Well
much as we might like to avoid it, we all have to deal with this stuff, don’t
we? In all sorts of areas of our life we
have to deal with questions of choices and priorities, of commitment and of
sacrifice.
I
remember when my son Jonathan was younger, he was a good hockey player and so
he tried out for a competitive hockey team.
Just before the final selections, as the try-outs were winding up, the
coach called a parents meeting. And
at that meeting he laid it all out for us.
“If your son wants to be part of this team, here’s what you have to
do. There’ll be two practices and two
games a week. Your son needs to be at
all of them, and be at games 60 minutes before they start. There’ll be six tournaments, three in town
and three out of town. You’ll need to volunteer
for three fundraising activities. And
the total cost for the season will be $1500.
These are the costs. This is the
commitment required. Before I make the
final selections for the team, you have to tell me if you’re in or out.”
Some
of you here today are pursuing a university degree. In order to embark on that degree, you’ve had
to move away from home and family. You’ve
had to pay big tuition fees and living expenses. You’re going to take on debt that you might
not be able to repay for years. You’re
going to work your butts off and at times endure tremendous stress. That’s the cost. That’s the commitment and sacrifice
required. Are you in?
One
time when I was doing marriage preparation with a couple, I had the sense that
they hadn’t really gotten their heads around the sort of commitment they were
making. And so I asked them to open up
the prayer book and to read the marriage vows, for better and for worse and so
on. And I turned and said to them, that
means if your partner gets hit by a truck and ends up in a wheelchair, you’re
the one that’s going to be pushing that wheelchair around for the rest of your
life. You have to be all-in. Are you ready to make that promise?
You
see, there are areas in our lives where we’re all-in, and there are other areas
where we hedge our bets. There are
things that we prioritize, that we commit to and for which we are willing to
sacrifice. And when we do commit and
when we do sacrifice, psychologists who research this stuff will tell us that
those things become even more valuable to us.
Or as my grandmother would have said, the more you put into something,
the more you get out of it.
And
so as we move into our open space, I want to leave you with two questions to
discuss:
1 1. In what areas of your life are you “all-in”,
and where are you “hedging your bets”?
2. And,
what does it mean to you to be “all-in” as a follower of Jesus?
Amen.
After Open Space (a time
for conversation):
I
hope your conversations about what it means to be “all-in”, and what it means
to be “all-in” as a follower of Jesus were fruitful. I must admit, to me, at times I find this to
be a bit of a scary topic, and I’m tempted to hedge my bets. But one thing that I find helpful is to
remind myself, first of all, that God is “all-in” in his commitment and his
love for us, and secondly that God knows us intimately, God knows us so well, that whatever it is he might call us to, whatever vocation or ministry or
mission that might be given to us, it will resonate with who we are, with our
deepest passions and gifts. The psalm
that we’re about to read together reminds us of just that.
Psalm 139: 1-5, 12-17
Lord,
you have searched me out and known me; *
you
know my sitting down and my rising up;
you
discern my thoughts from afar.
2
You
trace my journeys and my resting-places *
and
are acquainted with all my ways.
3
Indeed,
there is not a word on my lips, *
but
you, O Lord, know it altogether.
4
You
press upon me behind and before *
and
lay your hand upon me.
5
Such
knowledge is too wonderful for me; *
it
is so high that I cannot attain to it.
12
For
you yourself created my inmost parts; *
you
knit me together in my mother’s womb.
13
I
will thank you because I am marvellously made; *
your
works are wonderful, and I know it well.
14
My
body was not hidden from you, *
while
I was being made in secret
and
woven in the depths of the earth.
15
Your
eyes beheld my limbs, yet unfinished in the womb;
all
of them were written in your book; *
they
were fashioned day by day,
when
as yet there was none of them.
16
How
deep I find your thoughts, O God! *
how
great is the sum of them!
17
If
I were to count them, they would be more in number
than
the sand; *
to
count them all, my life span would need to be like yours.
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