A Sermon preached on June 26th, Pentecost VI
at St. Augustine’s, Wiesbaden
I Kings 19: 15,
16, 19 – 21, Galatians 5: 1, 13 – 25, Luke 9: 51 – 62
This morning’s
readings are scary, and not just for the oxen that ended up as the main course
at Elisha’s farewell dinner! They sound scary for all of us who want to be
followers of Christ, as the conditions of being a follower and disciple sound
very harsh indeed: nowhere to lay our head, a complete break with family and
tradition, a complete break with our past. I don’t know about you, but I would
find all of them very difficult to achieve.
And yet, there is
no question that we are called to be disciples. As I mentioned in my newsletter
corner last month, the Anglican Communion released a guide for Christian life
and formation titled “Intentional Discipleship and Disciple-Making” earlier
this year. It was discussed and adopted at the ACC meeting. According to the
authors, “Discipleship is the very essence of Anglicanism. Anglicanism, from its
roots in Celtic and Augustinian spirituality and shaped by the European
Reformation, has always been a lived-out (not a purely intellectual or
spiritualized) faith. It is about following and living the ways of
Jesus.”[1]
So, if there is no
escaping the call, can we renegotiate the conditions? Do we need to? Perhaps
they are not as onerous as they sound. Let’s start with the Old Testament story
of how Elijah calls Elisha to follow him and to become “prophet in his place.”
The first thing we need to know is that Elijah is exhausted and possibly even
disillusioned. He has done all God has asked him to do: defeated the prophets
of Baal, survived a famine, tried again and again to reform the kingdom of
Israel – but all to no avail. Just a few verses earlier, when God asks him
“what are doing here, Elijah?’ he answers “I have been very zealous for the
Lord, the God of hosts; for the Israelites have forsaken your covenant, thrown
down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword. I alone am left, and
they are seeking my life, to take it away.” (1 Kings 19:13-14) God’s reply – as
we heard this morning - is go home, anoint two kings who will “sort out” Israel
for me and anoint your successor “as prophet in your place.” God sees
that Elijah can do no more, God allows him to resign his mission, because God
will never ask us to do more than we are able to do – though that is almost
always much more than we think we are capable of.
Then when Elijah
calls Elisha – by throwing his mantle over him – Elisha accepts the call, but
asks to be allowed to “kiss my father and my mother,” to say farewell, to
conclude his previous life, albeit in a hurry. Sure, Elijah says: off you go, I’m
not holding you back. This is good for Elisha and his family, though bad for
the oxen, who get turned into a celebratory meal. Burning the yoke not only
provides fuel for the fire, but is a sign and symbol that for Elisha there is
no coming back. His old life is over.
This sounds a
little more like my own story – but without the oxen. My call to the ordained
ministry, which is of course only one way of being a disciple, and neither the
only or the best, was much more gradual. I did take time, much more time than
Elisha had, to make the transition. Elisha did not have to study theology, I
did. Heidi and I also wanted to make sure that the timing of the change was
good for our children, that they could finish school first. I did not want to
leave my family behind, as I hope you understand. But there was never any question
about me following the call. Still if I compare my process with Jesus’s
reaction to those he calls or who say they want to follow him, than I did fall
short.
Let’s have a
closer look at the three interactions in the gospel. In the first, someone said
to Jesus, “I will follow you wherever you go.” And Jesus seems to warn him off:
“Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has
nowhere to lay his head.” (Luke 9:57-58) And that is just what it is, a
warning. Don’t follow me for your own gain, Jesus says. There is no particular
reward for following me. On the contrary, I can’t even guarantee you a bed for
the night or a home to go to. If you follow me, you are embarking on a journey
without knowing where it will end. To follow me, is to fulfil the Old Testament
call – from Leviticus - ‘to walk in all his ways, to love him, to serve the
Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul’ (Deut 10.12–13 et
al.). That is not to say that this journey, and the experience, and the
companionship as such will not be rewarding, but just that that should not be
the motivation.
I hear an echo if
this in Paul’s words to the Galatians: “For you were called to freedom,
brothers and sisters; only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for
self-indulgence, but through love become slaves to one another.” (5:13) We have
the freedom to choose – self-indulgence and short-term gain, or service in
love, which as it is mutual – slaves to one another – brings a much greater,
lasting benefit to us and to the world.
In the second
encounter, Jesus calls the person. “Follow me.” But he said, “Lord, first let
me go and bury my father.” But Jesus said to him, “Let the dead bury their own
dead; but as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God.” (Luke 9:59-60) On
the surface, this is a huge demand. In
Jewish tradition the dead were and are to be buried without delay, and making
sure that your father is buried, would be a very important filial duty. It is a
deliberate exaggeration on Jesus’s part, meant to shock and shake people up,
and not to be taken literally. Jesus is not against family and tradition,
unless they get in the way of proclaiming the kingdom of God. If a family wants
to prevent someone from following Christ, because they belong to another religion,
or perhaps to no religion, then that is when they get in the way.
Traditions too are
not good in themselves. As Christians, we will find ourselves both defending
some traditions that society wants to abandon, as well as making the case for
change. How do we decide? We have what Paul calls the summary of the whole law:
“You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” (Galatians 5:14) and as people who
“live by the Spirit, let us also be guided by the Spirit.” (5:25) Look at the
fruits, look at the possible results of our actions: anger or love, quarrels or
joy, dissensions or peace, jealousy or generosity, idolatry or faithfulness?
That will tell you what to retain, what to discard, and how to decide. My one
comment today on the Brexit vote is that in my observation too many people were
motivated by strife, jealousy,
anger, and envy, and too few by love, joy, peace, patience, kindness,
generosity, faithfulness, and gentleness. I hope we learn our lesson.
Finally, someone
offers to follow Jesus, but sets conditions: “I will follow you, Lord; but let me
first say farewell to those at my home.” Jesus said to him, “No one who puts a
hand to the plough and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.” (Luke
9:61-62) Surely we can say farewell. Yes, of course we can, Elisha did, I did. The
purpose of this interaction is to remind us not always to be looking back and
second-guessing our decisions, once we have taken them. If you were ploughing a
field in ancient Palestine, you were leading the oxen with one hand, and
guiding the plough with another, if you looked back you could be certain, that
the unruly oxen would lead you off track and that your furrow would be anything
but straight and pointing in the right direction. If you follow me, Jesus says,
I need your complete commitment and focus; I need you to proclaim the kingdom
and to live as if you were in that kingdom.
Follow Jesus out
of your love from him and your neighbor, follow Jesus regardless of what your
family and society think, follow Jesus with full commitment. These are the
conditions of being a follower and disciple of Jesus. While they are still not
easy, I think they are achievable. Therefore, I hope that when we sing our
Communion hymn later in the service: “Will you come and follow me, if I but
call your name? Will you go where you don’t know and never be the same?” that
your answer is a resounding, confident:
Amen, so be it!
[1] Intentional Discipleship and Disciple-Making: An Anglican Guide for
Christian Life and Formation, The Anglican Consultative Council, (London;
2016), 126
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