This sermon was preached at Glenwood and Canoe Ridge Lutheran Churches, Decorah, Iowa on September 8, 2019. It’s based on Luke 14:25-33. If you’d prefer to listen to it, find it at https://soundcloud.com/stacey-nalean-carlson.
Luke 14:25-33
25Now large crowds were traveling with [Jesus;] and he turned and said to them, 26“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. 27Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple. 28For which of you, intending to build a tower, does not first sit down and estimate the cost, to see whether he has enough to complete it? 29Otherwise, when he has laid a foundation and is not able to finish, all who see it will begin to ridicule him, 30saying, ‘This fellow began to build and was not able to finish.’ 31Or what king, going out to wage war against another king, will not sit down first and consider whether he is able with ten thousand to oppose the one who comes against him with twenty thousand? 32If he cannot, then, while the other is still far away, he sends a delegation and asks for the terms of peace. 33So therefore, none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions.”
There would be all sorts of ways to soften Jesus’ words here—all sorts of ways to explain them away, to make them palatable, more easily digested. Surely when he said to hate your family, to hate even life itself, he didn’t actually mean hate? Surely when he said it was necessary to give up all your possessions, he didn’t mean all your possessions? Surely when he said carry the cross he wasn’t talking about a literal cross? Surely the life of the disciple doesn’t require this?
I was visiting with a wise elder of the congregation this week, and when it came time to share communion with her I said I wouldn’t be reading the gospel text for Sunday (today’s text). I’d choose something else, maybe a beautiful psalm. This text for Sunday, I said, it’s awful. But then, feeling badly that I described Jesus’ words as awful, I went on to paraphrase it for her. And she said, readings like this are to challenge us.
She’s right, of course. The problem is that I don’t necessarily want to be challenged. Isn’t life hard enough?
I want the Jesus I see elsewhere in scripture. I want the Jesus who himself loved his friend Lazarus so much that he wept when he learned of his death. I want the Jesus who stilled the storm, turned water into wine. I want the Jesus who said, come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.
I want to stand in this pulpit and proclaim the Jesus who said, I came that they may have life, and life abundantly, because I know I’m not alone in desiring comfort rather than challenge.
I look at the challenges you already face in your lives and I want to offer you a word of grace—a word of hope, and encouragement, and consolation. So can this challenging word from Jesus also be a word of grace?
At this point in the gospel of Luke, Jesus has already told his disciples twice that he is on his way to suffering and death…and ultimately, resurrection. But they fail to understand.
Already, he has told his disciples that those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will save it. If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me (Luke 9:23-24).
Already, Jesus has spoken to the crowds about being on guard against greed. Life does not consist in the abundance of possessions, he tells someone who says to him, Teacher, tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me (Luke 12:13).
Already, Jesus has said that his mother and brothers are not his biological family members standing outside, wanting to see him, but rather those who hear the word of God and do it (Luke 8:21).
Still, when we reach today’s episode in chapter 14, large crowds are traveling with Jesus. Are they only there for the hope of being healed? Are they only there to witness miracles?
Or is there something compelling about a life where you are challenged to be all in? A life where you are challenged to be so committed to God’s values—justice for all; the kind of leveling of society that we talked about last week; an end to injustice, and inequality, and self-reliance at the expense of relying solely on God—that you’re willing to prioritize God’s values above all else? Even when the decisions you’re making, in order to follow Jesus, lead to conflict with those you love the most? Lead to conflict within yourself?
Maybe.
And maybe we would do well to consider, at least from time to time, how committed we actually are to being a part of ushering in God’s kingdom. To allow ourselves to be challenged, from time to time, instead of only seeking comfort.
But here’s the thing. Where were those large crowds that traveled with Jesus here in chapter 14 when he’s hanging on the cross in chapter 23? Where are his disciples when the suffering and death that Jesus predicted unfolds? There were crowds there to witness the spectacle of his crucifixion, but all of Jesus’ acquaintances stood at a distance (Luke 23:49). Judas had betrayed him, Peter had denied him, and Jesus died as he lived, relying solely on God, Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.
Jesus is the epitome—the embodiment—of all in when it comes to commitment to God’s values. He loses everything—family, followers, possessions, comfort—for the sake of this world God refuses to leave mired in sin and death, greed and sorrow. Jesus has done it all.
When we pray in the Lord’s Prayer, thy kingdom come, we trust in fact, God’s kingdom comes on its own without our prayer, but we ask in this prayer that it may also come to us. When we pray thy will be done, we trust in fact, God’s good and gracious will comes about without our prayer, but we ask in this prayer that it may also come about in and among us.1
Jesus has done it all…for us. God’s kingdom has come. God’s will is being done. And we pray that the Holy Spirit would empower our commitment, so that we might experience this inbreaking kingdom of God in all its fullness.
Whether we are faithful or faithless, eager to be challenged or in desperate need of comfort, God’s unconditional love is ours in Christ Jesus. He went all in to give us forgiveness, freedom, hope, healing, the promise of a world redeemed, the promise of lives changed, comfort even when we’re most challenged.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
1 Martin Luther’s explanation of the Lord’s Prayer in the Small Catechism.