SERMON PREACHED BY
THE REVEREND DR. HAROLD T. LEWIS, RECTOR
CALVARY EPISCOPAL CHURCH,
PITTSBURGH, PENNSYLVANIA
ON THE FIFTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST
9 SEPTEMBER 2007

 

 

"So therefore, none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions." (Luke 14:33)

 

 

There is a story which most of us have heard, in one version or another, at one time or another. An up-and-coming young man was desirous of climbing both the corporate and social ladders in early 20th-century New York City. By badgering some of his friends and associates in high places, he managed, to his great delight, to wangle an appointment with the great financier (and devout Episcopalian) J. P. Morgan, who received the young man on his yacht. (Mr. Morgan's steam yacht, by the way, The Corsair, was every bit of 1,600 tons, and was later acquired by the United States Navy and commissioned for service in the First World War!) Awestruck by the vessel --- its mammoth size, its elegant appointments, and its crew, which was about the size of the population of a small town, the young man couldn't contain himself. "My goodness, Mr. Morgan," he exclaimed, "how much does it cost to maintain a yacht like this?" To which the banker replied, "If you have to ask, you can't afford it!"

 

Unlike Mr. Morgan, very few of us have unlimited resources which make it unnecessary for us to ascertain the cost of anything we wish to obtain --- be it a house, a college education, a suit of clothes or even a gallon of gas. (Yes, to derive the greatest possible benefit from my Giant Eagle discount at GetGo, I never fill up my car until the little red light comes on, indicating that I have about ten miles to go before my tank is bone dry.)

 

This morning, I would like us all to ponder whether we ever ask the question "What is the cost of being a Christian?" We, who are very fond of Bible verses like "The Lord will provide" wince, and perhaps are even offended by uttering "cost" and "Christian" in the same breath. Even the word "commitment" doesn't easily form on our lips. Nowadays, the church --- and the clergy must bear some responsibility for this ---- sometimes convey to newcomers that all they have to do is show up. In the early church, catechumens spent all of Lent preparing for Baptism on Easter Even. Today we give a Saturday morning crash course to parents and godparents. In the Catechism I had to learn (read "memorize") for Confirmation class, we recited "Our bounden duty and service is to worship God every Sunday in his church, and to work, pray and give for the spread of Christ's Kingdom." That lesson being ingrained in my spiritual psyche, I find it difficult to understand when people glibly explain that they didn't come to church on a given Sunday because they had out-of-town relatives staying with them and had to prepare breakfast for them! Do such Christians not realize that they missed an evangelistic opportunity by not bringing their relatives to church, or at the very least the opportunity to set an example by leaving their kith and kin at home to forage for their own victuals?

 

In today's Gospel, one thing is abundantly clear. Jesus is not afraid to map out the cost of discipleship --- and he does it in no uncertain terms. He does so because he knows he is speaking to a motley crew --- some curiosity-seekers, some revolutionaries, others wanting miracles, some wanting to be fed, as well as those who want to be faithful followers. So first, Jesus explains that we must be willing to forsake those who prevent us from following Jesus unconditionally. And if we want to be a follower of his, he tells us, he must be the top priority. Love of parents, wives, children, life itself pale before love of Jesus. I would like to think that the verb "hate" here is hyperbole. It is inconsistent to believe that the same Jesus who upheld the commandment to honor mother and father, and who sanctified marriage by his presence and first miracle at Cana, and who took little children in his arms and blessed them would really ask us to hate parents or spouses or offspring. These admonitions must be understood in light of what he says elsewhere: "Seek ye first the Kingdom of God, and all these things will be added unto you."

 

Second, Jesus tells us that we must be seduced by easy answers. Discipleship is hard and often unpleasant. Or, otherwise put, following him carries no assurance of eternal bliss. Each follower of his, says Jesus, must be willing to pick up his own cross and carry it. The sight of a man carrying his cross, the means of his execution, was a familiar one to Jesus' hearers It was a cruel age in which emperors launched persecutions almost for the fun of it, but no more cruel than an age in which terrorists fly into buildings and troops come home dead or maimed, the victims of senseless wars.

 

Lastly, in relating to us the parables of the tower and the battle, Jesus tells us that we must eschew the ever-present temptation to think of ourselves more highly than we ought to think. In other words, we must be focused, and shrewd and calculating in the best sense of those words, realizing that we are about the business of building up the kingdom of God and not a temple to our own aggrandizement. The hymn writer expresses it so succinctly:
Mortal pride and earthly glory, sword and crown betray our trust;
Though with care and toil we build them, tower and temple turn to dust.
But God's power, hour by hour, is my temple and my tower. [Hymn 665]

 

Then comes the punch line. We cringe when we hear it. Jesus tells us: "So therefore, none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions." We cringe because we think it means that in order to be good Christians we have to leave church today and liquidate all our assets and give everything away. Au contraire! Jesus is talking about those spiritual possessions to which we cling, and which impede us from following him. Again, the theological truth is clearer in the church's hymnody. Listen to Mr. Cowper's words in "O for a closer walk with God:"

The dearest idol I have known, whate'er that idol be,
Help me to tear it from thy throne, and worship only thee.

So shall my walk be close with God, calm and serene my frame;
So purer light shall mark the road that leads me to the Lamb. [Hymn 683]

 

Today is Rally Sunday. One of the definitions of "rally" in my dictionary is "to arouse to activity," as in rallying the troops. Rally Sunday is a time, therefore, when, in the words of the beautiful collect for the parish family, we ask God to "strengthen the faithful, arouse the careless, and restore the penitent, grant[ing] us all things necessary for our common life" [BCP, p. 817].

 

I'll end with a story which I think is especially appropriate for our celebration today. A hen and a pig left the farm and set out for a long walk. After a few hours on the road, they were especially hungry. The hen suggested they stop and get something to eat and the pig agreed. "There's a diner up ahead," said the hen. "They have bacon and eggs for a dollar ninety-five." "I don't think so," the pig chimed in. "How come?" asked the clueless hen. "You don't get it," said the pig." All you need to do for this breakfast is make a donation. For me it's a total commitment." It is my prayer that beginning today, we might better understand the cost of discipleship, and move toward a life of deeper commitment.

 

AMEN.