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Thought for the Week 27 June – 4th Sunday after Trinity
Everyone
will agree that the thrust of the lessons today have something to do with
discipleship – or more particularly, the cost of discipleship. There
is something rather uncomfortable about the examples Jesus uses, since the
people in them look very like ourselves, in many ways. The events in their
lives that get in the way of being disciples in Jesus’ eyes, are all things
we might think of as being normal in our own lives. Worse yet, we think that
we might – in fact probably would – react in the same way. “Follow
me” he said to the first one, who said in return, “First I have to go and
bury my father”. The first thing we do when someone loses a relative is give
them time off to do that very thing, and further, we usually support them by
attending the funeral. The whole idea of continuing to work – or going to
work – or putting work ahead of as family crisis such as a death, is quite
repugnant to us, and Jesus sounds both harsh and unrealistic in his response. Jesus
is equally critical to the one who thinks he should go and say goodbye to his
family. When a young man or a young woman becomes a monk or a nun, there is
an elaborate ceremony in which farewells are made to family and friends. The
world may well be getting rejected, and the comforts of family and friends is
being turned aside, but it is understood that there must be a transition, a
passage, and that acknowledging this is good both for the new novice and for
those who are continuing to live their lives in the world. We
have many such rituals – going off to college, taking an overseas trip, going
to take up a new job abroad, going to live with a new wife or husband in
another part of the country. Would
Jesus think us delinquent in the task of discipleship if we did any of these
things? He is certainly quite hard on
those who cross his path seeking to be disciples, yet wanting to take care of
some personal business first. The
gospel lesson today presents which might be called a preachers’ dilemma. What
can one do but honor the basic intention of the lesson – which in this case
is obviously that discipleship indeed has a cost, and an unreasonably high
one. And
what can one do but try to explain away those aspects of the lesson which
seem to by unfair and perhaps unlike the Jesus we usually idealize – the
Jesus always so anxious and willing to teach, to help, to heal, and to feed
the hungry? The
first clue appears when we note that Jesus has set his sights on Jerusalem. Only
Jesus could really know the implications of his journey towards the Holy
City. Consider
the stories in Greek mythology in which the King is chosen for a year. During that year he will be feted, fed,
sumptuously clothed and housed. He will be adored by all and the best wine of
the land will fill his cup at every evening feast. At the beginning of his
term as king he is aware that the year will end with his own death and the
choice of another to take his place, But the end of the year seems such a long
way away at the beginning, Even half way through the year the king is having
such a good time that he doesn’t really see the end in sight. But
as the months pass and winter begins to lose its sting, as the weather warms
and the first buds appear on the trees he realizes with horror that he has a
matter of weeks to live. A dreadful inevitability begins to settle over him
and, in the stories, he finishes out his term in a drunken stupor. Jesus
has this awareness. His
destiny is laid out before him, He has mentioned this to the disciples but
they do not understand either the implications or the immediacy of his words.
Jesus in fact, has to bear this dreadful knowledge on his own. We
can understand his frustration and perhaps his fear. He must have been
afraid, don’t you think? Even
the puppet king must have been demented with fear as his lovely reign ended
with the people already getting ready to transfer their loyalty, his own
blood spilling into the ground to appease the gods of the crops. To
complicate matters even more, turning towards Jerusalem had implications
serious enough, but the small party had to traverse the land of Samaria. Their
first attempt to arrange for a place to stay the night turns sour as the
Samaritans ascertain that the party or Galileans is headed to Jerusalem. They
don’t know or care why Jesus is
going there, all they know is that the holy city of Jerusalem is not for
Samaritans. Worship of the one God
takes a different focus for them. The
antipathy is mutual – Samaritans know how they themselves would be treated by
the people of Judea and they sometimes do likewise. James and John are
outraged, and being people of the immediate moment, who don’t catch Jesus’
focus on Jerusalem or his foreboding about his own end, suggest that fire be
rained down on the inhospitable Samaritans. Jesus
rebuked them – with a sigh, we imagine. The kingdom is not for Jews only, not
for his disciples only, not for those who have encountered him only.
Samaritans are as much a part of the wider world as anyone else, hospitable
or otherwise. They will share in the kingdom too. Jesus
and his fellow travelers had several encounters with Samaritans in the
various gospel stories, and this was because Samaria lay between Galilee and
the various parts of Judea where Jesus wanted to travel and teach. He always
treats them as if they are already part of his ministry and mission And so, today, the party simply moves on to
a more friendly place. It
is against this scene that Jesus deals with the people along the road who say
they would like to follow him. Jesus
points out that, although he is not an ascetic or a vagabond, he has no home
of his own. Unlike even the birds of the air, or the foxes of the field, he
has no permanent place to lay his head. Can they pay even the simple price of living
a traveling life with him? Perhaps
they can, and perhaps they cannot, but looking back is one thing that
disciples cannot afford to do. The
simple plow used in those days consisted of a light blade, managed with one
hand, while the other hand controlled the donkeys or the mule that pulled the
plow. The only way to maintain a straight furrow was to follow the one
previously plowed. Turning back means a loss of control for a moment, and a subsequent wiggle in
the furrow. Nobody
wanted that. The
implications were clear – the only way to go was straight ahead. What
then is the lesson? How to resolve this preacher’s dilemma? These
days we are not plowing straight furrows, yet we too must always be looking
ahead. We use the fear view mirror judiciously but we do not gaze into it. At
the same time we must hold our lives in some kind of balance. Maybe
the answer lies in the responses of those two people in the gospel story who
said that they wanted to follow Jesus. They both used the word “But” “I will follow you wherever
you go, BUT first I
must go and bury my father”. “I will follow you, Lord, BUT first I must say
goodbye to
my family and friends”. “But”,
is how we begin excuses. “But” is like an alibi. “But
officer, I was nowhere near the scene where the victim wearing the blue dress
was shot in the yellow living room while eating an chocolate biscuit and
talking on the telephone. I’ve never even been there”. The
answer is that we can do both things – in fact, we ought to live our lives
doing both things. We
can be disciples AND responsive to our family’s crises and emergencies, as
well as to their everyday needs. We can be disciples AND keep in touch with
friends in other places. We can be disciples AND be productive at work, enjoy
our play and maintain the balance between our various environments. Of
course, there is a cost to that. Being disciples and following Jesus will
certainly color everything else we do, and it certainly is an
added dimension to busy lives that some others do not have. In a better mood,
Jesus said that his burden was easy and his yoke light and that is invariably
the case. There
is supposed to be joy in discipleship, and invariably there is. Even so,
doing the right thing is not always so easy, and the balance is hard to
maintain. It
is at those harder moments when we must turn our thoughts to the ultimate –
to the kingdom, to the understanding that there is a kingdom in the here and now and well as in the there and then. As
Jesus set his feet towards Jerusalem, so we also set ours towards the holy
city. When our hearts and minds
settle, we know that we can sustain
this tension, with trust and with assurance. It
is then a joy to hear his voice when he says “Follow Me” – and we know that
we can. Revd
Tony Jewiss: Anglican Chaplaincy of Midi-Pyrénées & Aude To return to main Thought for the Week page, click X at top right to close this window. |