Pastor Steve's Sermons
“Shrewd for Heaven’s Sake”
Sept. 23, 2007 / Luke 16:1-9 / Rev. Steve Young
Dr. Greg Jones, dean of Duke Divinity School, tells a story from early in his academic career when he was an assistant professor of theology at Loyola College in Baltimore. He was invited to lead a special series on stewardship at a Presbyterian Church in Baltimore. Over several weeks he presented the biblical understanding of stewardship. He taught that all that we have--our material resources, our talents, our time--is a trust from God to us. We have been given these gifts to manage on God’s behalf. And in doing so to bring glory to God and to live out the values of God’s kingdom. And we are accountable to God for how we manage the things that he has entrusted to us. And Jones talked about the importance of Christians being good stewards of the earth’s resources.
One of the classes was designed to provide the opportunity for participants to personally assess the quality of their own stewardship and to challenge them to become more faithful in their management of what God had give to them. To prepare for that session Jones asked every participant to bring their checkbooks with them to the next class. He told them that in one of their exercises each participant would be paired with another and would exchange his or her checkbook with the other. That person would review the expenditures and note the priorities represented there. The exercise was designed to point out that what we spend our money on is a good indicator of what we feel is truly important in our hearts.
Up until this time, the class had been attentive and supportive and appreciative of Dr. Jones’ leadership. But after being given this new assignment, one of the elders of the church came up to him after class and told him that the exercise just wouldn’t work there. He told him that people in that church just weren’t comfortable sharing such personal information with another. They would consider it a violation of their privacy.
Jones wondered if privacy might not have been the major reason that the class balked, but rather their fear that another church member might know what they really spent their money on. Jones retreated from his plan and said that he never again proposed that particular exercise for another church group.
I’m not sure that we United Methodists would have done any differently than those Presbyterians. We are a little bit uncomfortable talking in specifics about our personal spending habits, too.
And in that regard, we’re quite different from Jesus, who, if the gospels are accurate, talked a lot about the use and misuse of one’s personal possessions. Once Jesus even observed how much a woman put into the temple treasury and commented on that amount to his disciples (Mark 12:41-44)! From the frequency that Jesus talked about the use and misuse of one’s possessions you get the impression that this issue was pretty important to Jesus. And if what people do with their possessions was important to Jesus, how can it not be important to us who would follow Jesus?
The Scripture this morning from Luke 16 is a parable about the use of money. And it’s a troubling parable. Not just because it’s about money, but because the main character in the parable is a real scoundrel, wasteful and dishonest. And Jesus uses this disreputable guy to teach his disciples a positive lesson about stewardship. Imagine that! It’s a parable that many of us pastors would choose not to preach. But here it is in the lectionary for September 23.
“There was a rich man who had a manager…” (Luke 16:1)
The central character in Jesus’ parable is described by the Greek word οικονομος (oikon'omos). And οικονομος is the Greek word from which we derive our English word “economist,” one meaning of which is a person who prudently manages material resources. In the King James Version and in some of the older Bible translations the word οικονομος was translated as “steward”. In our contemporary translations the word “manager” is often used.
“There was a rich man who had a manager…”
Now in a wealthy Jewish household the steward or manager was a person employed to oversee a household, so that the master of the house could tend to other business. Perhaps the master might even be away from the premises on a venture afar. Stewards would oversee the work of the servants, assigning them their daily tasks. Stewards would handle the master’s business affairs and manage his finances. The steward was the business manager for the estate; he was the chief financial officer of the family enterprise. Good stewards were diligent about protecting their master’s property and trying to increase its value when possible. The steward needed to be careful, efficient, and honest in order to do his task well.
But the steward in Jesus’ parable was anything but careful, efficient, and honest!
The word got back to the wealthy landowner of Jesus’ parable that his steward was not doing a good job. Instead of being an efficient manager of the master’s resources, he was careless and wasteful. He wasn’t preserving his master’s resources; on the contrary, he was squandering them.
And the master called his steward to account and examined his accounts and balances and inventory. And the master saw that the charges against his steward were true. And the master immediately released his steward from his employment. He told him that his services were no longer needed.
And under such dire circumstances, the steward knew that to secure his future he needed to act quickly and decisively. Because he was not trained in any other trade and was not strong enough to do manual labor and was too embarrassed to beg, he had to be extremely resourceful. He was a sorry steward. But he was also incredibly resourceful. And he hatched a plan that would enable him to look out for his own future. He went to all those who owned his master money, and he gave them permission to falsify what they owed the master. He authorized them to lower their bill. To the orchard grower who was in debt for 100 measures of olive oil (estimated at about 800 gallons), he gave permission to reduce the amount they owed by one-half. To the farmer who owed his master 100 measures of wheat (estimated at 1000 bushels), he gave permission to reduce the amount that they owed by 20%. There were surely others similarly in debt whom the dismissed steward approached.
But in doing so the sorry steward once again cheated his master of what was rightfully his. The steward was not only wasteful; he was also blatantly dishonest. He cheated his master, so that he could ingratiate himself with those who were deep in his master’s debt. So that they might in turn be in his debt. So that without employment and without income he might receive some benefit from them. That they might perhaps take him in. They might provide for some of his material needs. They might help him get back on his feet again.
What a sorry guy!
But in the parable his master commends him. Not for being wasteful. Not for being dishonest. But the master commends him for being resourceful! For using what little leverage he had to provide for his future. His master praised him for being shrewd!
And according to Luke, Jesus also commended the steward’s resourcefulness. “The children of this age are more shrewd in dealing with their own generation than the children of light” (Luke 16:8). The man tied up in life in this present world acted consistently and purposefully to secure his future in that present world. He showed great “street smarts”. And Jesus encouraged his followers, the children of light, to use their resources just as shrewdly to prepare for eternity. To make friends by wisely using their material resources, so that those friends might welcome them in the life to come.
And that concluding comment by Jesus introduces us to yet another troubling feature of this parable. Jesus seems to be promoting a measure of self-interest among his followers. Jesus seems to be implying that his followers ought to be diligent in securing their future! Frequently, in the church the stress in our preaching and teaching is on self-emptying, self-denial, and self-sacrifice. But here in Jesus’ words there is a call to enlightened self-interest. If you want to secure a blessing in the life to come, don’t ignore what you do with what you have in this earthly life!
Let’s draw some more lessons from this parable.
First, note that our Lord never condemns having money or using money. Our Lord does not call all of his followers to a vow of poverty. As a matter of fact several of his female followers were persons of some means, who continued to support his ministry with their financial resources (Luke 8:1-3).
We remember that it is not money, but the love of money that is the root of all evil (1 Tim. 6:10).
It was the steward who didn’t want to have anything to do with using his master’s money and who buried that money in the ground who was condemned, rather than the servant who used his master’s money to risk and to invest (Matt. 25:14-30).
Our Lord does not want us to forsake or ignore our material resources, but to use those resources wisely for the sake of his kingdom.
Second, note that this parable implies that there are rewards in the life to come for those who use their resources wisely.
Now we need to be perfectly clear here. Our evangelical theology stresses that heaven is a gift of God’s grace, not to be earned or achieved by our own efforts. Heaven is a divine benefit, won for us by our Savior Jesus Christ, to be received by faith. We gratefully affirm that theological truth.
But there is something more to be said about heaven. And that is that the Scriptures teach that there are divine rewards given out for faithful behavior. Some of those rewards may be received in this earthly life; but other rewards are reserved for the life to come.
Listen to the words of the Gospels. For those faithful in giving alms: “Your Father who sees in secret will reward you” (Matt. 6:4). For those faithful in prayer: “Your Father who sees in secret will reward you” (Matt. 6:6). For those faithful in fasting: “Your Father who sees in secret will reward you” (Matt. 6:18). For those persecuted for their faith: “Your reward is great in heaven” (Matt. 5:12). For those who love their enemies, who do good, who lend, not expecting anything in return: “Your reward will be great” (Luke 6:35). For those who give a cup of cold water to one of these little ones: “None of these will lose their reward” (Matt. 10:42). For those who reach out and invite the poor and the crippled to eat with them: “You will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous” (Luke 14:14). And when the Son of Man returns: “He will repay everyone for what has been done” (Matt. 16:27).
And similarly in Paul’s writings: “We must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one may receive good or evil, according to what he has done in the body” (2 Cor. 5:10). And again, addressing the quality of one’s earthly ministry: “If what has been built on the foundation survives, the builder will receive a reward” (1 Cor. 3:14).
Jesus seems to suggest that the prudent disciple ought to work to secure his or her future reward. “Make friends for yourselves with worldly wealth, so that when it gives out, you will be welcomed in the eternal home” (Luke 16:9).
How might one do this?
In our United Methodist tradition we use our material resources to make friends both of those who are poor in things and those who are poor in soul. We minister to physical needs, and we minister to spiritual needs. We feed the body, and we feed the soul. The United Methodist Church is about both kinds of mission. In ministering to the body, we don’t neglect the never-dying soul. In ministering to the soul, we don’t neglect the immediate physical needs of the body.
The Jewish rabbis had a saying that went like this: “The rich help the poor in this world, but the poor help the rich in the world to come.” According to Jesus, the good that those of material means do in this life on behalf of the poor will yield rich rewards in the life the come. Whether it is giving alms or clothing the naked or feeding the hungry or welcoming the stranger or visiting the prisoner or caring for the sick (Matt. 25:34-36). We make friends for eternity as we help the poor in body.
And we also make friends for eternity as we help the poor in spirit. We share with them the Bread of Life. We share with them the good news that God has sent his Son into the world to save the world. We witness to them that through faith in Christ their lives can be changed for the better and that through faith in Christ they can enjoy the abundant life. We help them to understand that through faith in Christ they can become his agents in the redemption of the world.
According to the Scriptures, there are rewards for us in heaven based upon the stewardship of our time, talents, and material resources on earth.
In 1995 the Christian artist, Ray Boltz, wrote a song about heavenly rewards given to those who had been faithful stewards on earth.
It went like this:
“I dreamed I went to heaven, and you were there with me.
We walked upon the streets of gold beside the crystal sea.
We heard the angels singing and someone called your name.
We turned and saw this young man--he was smiling as he came.
He said, ‘Friend, you may not know me now,’ and then he said, ‘but wait.
You used to teach my Sunday school when I was only eight.
Every week you would say a prayer before the class would start.
And one day when you said that prayer, I asked Jesus in my heart.’
Thank you for giving to the Lord!
I have a life that was changed.
Thank you for giving to the Lord!
I am so glad you gave!
Then another man stood before you and said, ‘Remember the time
a missionary came to your church--his pictures made you cry.
You didn’t have much money, but you gave it anyway.
Jesus took the gift you gave, and that’s why I’m here today.’
Thank you for giving to the Lord!
I have a life that was changed.
Thank you for giving to the Lord!
I am so glad you gave!
One by one they came, far as the eye could see--
each life somehow touched by your generosity.
Little things that you had done, sacrifices made--
though they were unnoticed on the earth,
in heaven now proclaimed!
I know up here in heaven you’re not supposed to cry.
But friend, I’m almost sure there were tears in your eyes,
as Jesus took your hand and you stood before the Lord.
He said, ‘My child look around you, for great is your reward!’
Thank you for giving to the Lord!
I have a life that was changed.
Thank you for giving to the Lord!
I am so glad you gave!”
© Gaither Music
Jesus said, “Make friends for yourselves with worldly wealth, so that when it gives out, you will be welcomed in the eternal home.”
“The Frugal Housekeeper"
September 16, 2007 / Luke 15:8-10 / Rev. Steve Young
A young mother from North Carolina lost her wedding ring earlier this year. It was a special ring, custom-made by a master jeweler. It was not the usual yellow gold with a diamond mount but a ring of white gold with an emerald setting and two accompanying garnets. Truly the ring was one-of-a-kind. She loved and cherished that ring.
She had had the ring for thirteen years and had never mislaid it. Oh, she didn’t always put the ring in the same place when she took it off, but she was always able to find it again. Sometimes she put it on her computer desk, sometimes by the TV, sometimes in her purse, sometimes in her makeup bag, and sometimes on the entertainment center.
But on one day early this year after taking off her ring she couldn’t find it again. It was not in any of the usual places. But she decided that she would try to keep her cool that day and not worry about it. After all, the ring had always turned up in the past!
But the next day when she renewed her search and explored more carefully the usual places, without any success, she began to panic. She tried to imagine all the possible scenarios. She had accidentally thrown it away. The kids did something with it. (When questioned, they denied seeing it.) The kittens knocked it on the floor, and it rolled under some piece of furniture. Her mind began to race. And the more places where she looked the more frantic she became. She pulled out the cushions from the sofa and felt down in the cracks. She pulled the sheets and covers from all the beds and gently shook them. She pulled open all her drawers and felt around in the bottom. She got a flashlight and looked carefully under every piece of furniture in the house. The ring was nowhere to be found. And the sinking feeling grew almost unbearable with the realization that she had likely lost her precious ring. She was at her wits’ end.
And then the idea came to her: Where's the most unlikely place that I might have put that ring?
She rushed into her bedroom and opened up her jewelry box. And there in her jewelry box lay her wedding ring, safe and sound.
And with that ring back on her finger she felt like the happiest woman in the whole world. And she just had to share her happiness with the whole world on her web blog--where I happened to see it.
Perhaps some of you could tell similar stories about precious things that you once lost. And then found.
Jesus told a little parable about a poor woman who lost something precious. She had had silver coins. Luke refers to them as drachma, a Greek coin similar in size and value to the Roman denarius. A drachma was worth about the amount of money that a laborer would earn in a day. Even ten of them did not amount to a whole lot of money. But to a poor woman of Palestine each one of those ten coins mattered. Some have suggested that the ten silver coins might have been the amount of the dowry that her father had given to the young bridegroom who took her hand in marriage. Even the loss of one of those coins would be significant. And in the parable Jesus presents the scenario of that woman losing one of those ten coins.
What would she do if she lost one of them?
Would she go on with her domestic duties, as if nothing happened? Would she say, “I've still got nine coins; it won’t hurt me to do without one.” Would she answer with the theologically correct: “The Lord gives and the Lord takes away”?
No, none of those things. She wouldn’t be satisfied to let that one coin go. She would hunt for it. And since the homes of the poor in that day tended to be quite dark with few windows, she would light a lamp to shed light on the room. And she would sweep the floor, which was frequently composed of compressed earth and covered by reeds and rushes. Now finding a small silver coin amid that floor covering would be a little bit like finding a needle in a haystack. But she wouldn’t give up. She would continue to sweep, and, if necessary, get down on her knees to search every square inch of floor, until she found it.
And then when she found it--not if she found it, but when she found it--she would be overwhelmed with joy. It would be a joy too great not to be shared. So she would invite her friends over to celebrate. "Rejoice with me. I've found the coin that I lost.” (Luke 15:9).
Can you identify with her joy?
Although few, if any, of us would classify ourselves as so poor that the loss of one silver coin might make or break us—unless that coin were a 1916 Mercury head silver dime minted in Denver and worth about $5,000--I suspect that for many of us, we find ourselves chasing too many financial obligations with too few dollars. And I suspect that for many of us there are relatively few months of the year when our checkbook ends with a comfortable balance, many months when our checkbook balance is close to zero, and a few months, perhaps, where we end up having to rob Peter to pay Paul. (And I’m not talking about the Apostle Peter and the Apostle Paul.) Few of us have money to burn. And we can well identify with that poor woman’s desperation upon losing the coin and her exuberance upon finding it again.
And even the rich, I suspect, can experience a little bit of her joy.
On January 9th of this year there was a devastating wildfire at Malibu that destroyed four large homes on the beachfront. One belonged to actress Suzanne Somers and was valued at three million dollars. The fire left the home in ashes. She hired professional sifters to go through the ashes and see if they could recover anything of value. And in the smoldering ruins of her home they were able to recover just one item of value—her wedding ring! Certainly she could have replaced the material value of that ring without any difficulty--thighmaster royalties and all. Replacing the sentimental value of that ring would be another story.
Perhaps we have had unexpected financial serendipities as well. Like when we're playing Monopoly and we roll a seven and our little metal roadster lands on a Community Chest space. And we draw a card that shows a distinguished gentleman in a black suit with a full white moustache, putting his hands on either side of his head in astonishment. And you find out: "You inherit $100." Sometimes life hands us financial serendipities! Or you draw a card with a picture of the same gentleman fainting dead away, and you realize you’re about to receive an income tax refund—get this--of $20. Or you see him cavorting on the floor with the stock market ticker tape that brings the good news: "From sale of stock you get $45. Or you draw a card showing the same gentleman bowed over a cane with a long, long white beard, but with a smile on his face: "Life Insurance Matures. Collect $100.”
Well, the value of things certainly has changed since Parker Brothers came out with Monopoly in 1936!
A few people today do know the joy of financial windfall. They win a nice payoff in the lottery (non-Methodists, of course). They receive an unexpected inheritance from some wealthy relative. They receive a huge year-end bonus from their company. Penny stock that they purchased for almost nothing years ago has gone through the roof and is now worth thousands.
Yes, perhaps some of us can identify with the joy of the woman who found the silver coin that had been lost, and then found. Because in our money-based economy we have received some unexpected financial blessing.
Sometimes it is the church itself that is the woman who rejoices when she finds the coin, such as when the church receives a generous bequest from a deceased member’s estate or when it receives a sizeable donation from a wealthy friend.
But as real as that joy of recovering something of great material value or the joy of receiving an unexpected financial blessing, Jesus didn’t tell that parable to highlight joys received from material things. Nor was Jesus telling that parable to teach financial lessons like “Waste not, want not” or “A penny saved is a penny earned” or “Money doesn’t grow on trees.”
No the real bottom line of Jesus’ parable is that the joy of financial blessing is illustrative of the joy of spiritual blessing. The joy of finding a precious coin that was lost is analogous to God’s joy in finding a human being who had become lost.
Now there is a joy experienced in the human heart when an individual finds God. To be sure, when a person discovers for oneself the God of love and the love of God, it fills them with joy. But this parable illustrates not human joy, but divine joy, as happens when an individual who has been lost is found by God.
God is the frugal housekeeper. Who has lost one of her precious coins. And God sweeps and sweeps and sweeps and sweeps. Until God finds it again.
Is it hard to imagine a God like that? Who makes such effort in searching for the lost?
An anonymous 19th century poet once wrote the words:
“I sought the Lord, and afterward I knew
He moved my soul to seek him, seeking me.
It was not I that found, O Savior true;
No, I was found of thee.”
Can you imagine God as the seeker, the searcher, the hunter?
Another 19th century poet, Francis Thompson, pictured God hot on our trail. He entitled his poem “The Hound of Heaven.”
It begins:
“I fled him down the nights and down the days,
I fled him down the arches of the years,
I fled him down the labyrinthine ways of my own mind,
and in the midst of tears I hid from him.”
But the hound of heaven shall not be denied. “With unhurrying chase and unperturbed pace, deliberate speed, majestic instancy” the strong feet of God, the hound of heaven, beat. Hot on our trail. Until he finds us again.
God, like the frugal housekeeper, will not give up.
We can try to hide from God. We can try to hide under a cushion in the sofa. We can try to hide in the darkest corner of the room under some debris. We can even try to hide amid the ashes of a fire.
But if we are lost, God does not give up searching for us until he finds us.
And when God finds us and we find God, there is an abundance of joy! There is our own joy that we experience in finding forgiveness and peace and meaning and friendship and power. And there is God’s joy. When a wanderer from the way has been rescued from danger and brought safely home.
That image of once being lost but now found motivated an English parson, John Newton, to write the hymn “Amazing Grace”. John Newton remembered that time in his life when he had been lost on the high seas, lost on the slave trading ship, lost from the safe haven of the church, lost from the promises of heaven.
And God went searching for him. Until God found him.
And found by a gracious and merciful God, John Newton repented of his past sins. And he reached out to Christ in faith. And John Newton’s life was changed.
And he wrote about his experience of being found:
“Amazing grace! How sweet the sound
that saved a wretch like me!
I once was lost, but now am found;
was blind but now I see.”
Remember, you are so very precious to God.
And if you become lost, God will go looking for you.
And if you let yourself be found by the Savior, all heaven will rejoice.
“The Importance of Planning Ahead”
Sept. 9, 2007 / Luke 14:25-33 / Rev. Steve Young
It is the tallest skyscraper in the country. Pyramid-shaped, it towers over the sprawling capital city. Designed to be the world’s tallest hotel, the tower of concrete rises 105 stories into the air, 1,083 feet above the ground. It contains 3.9 million square feet and 3,000 rooms. With seven revolving restaurants! It was designed to be a five-star hotel that would make a nation proud.
Construction began on the hotel in 1987, but it abruptly halted in 1992. Although the shell of the building is finished, there are no windows, no fittings, no fixtures, and no occupants! The money-well ran dry. Famine struck the country. Severe electrical power outages plagued the city. And the concrete used in the construction has proven to be substandard and has already shown some signs of deterioration.
Today that pyramidal tower stands a dark shadow over the city of Pyongyang, North Korea, a grim reminder of the overreaching of its dictator, Kim Il-Sung, and his son, Kim Jong Il. By the way, Kim Jong is seeking $300 million in foreign investment money to complete the hotel, if you’re looking for a hot tip for a great investment. In the meantime he has removed the tower from city maps and from postage stamps of the city, as if it no longer exists.
Jesus once said to the crowds who were following him: “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? Otherwise, when he has laid a foundation and is not able to finish, all who see it will begin to ridicule him, saying, ‘This fellow began to build and was not able to finish.’” (Luke 14:28-30).
In 1952 the respected Japanese journalist and social critic Hasegawa Nyozekan gave his analysis of why Japan suffered such a devastating defeat in World War II. He wrote in his book The Lost Japan: “The war was started as the result of a mistaken intuitive calculation which transcended mathematics. We believed with a blind fervor that we could triumph over scientific weapons and tactics by means of our mystic will. The characteristic reliance on intuition by Japanese had blocked the objective cognition of the modern world.”
In simpler words, instead of comparing the quality of weaponry of Japan to the weaponry of the United States and noting that America’s military technology was far superior, Japan’s leadership depended upon the belief that Japan could, by the steely resolve of its soldiers and its citizenry, will itself to victory.
The miscalculation was devastating to Japan.
And Jesus said, “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? If he cannot, then, while the other is still far away, he sends a delegation and asks for the terms of peace.” (Luke 14:31-32).
Sometimes people have pictured Jesus as a starry-eyed romantic, enamored with the simplicity of nature. Who drew lessons from the birds of the air and the flowers of the field about trusting in the never-failing provision of God for one’s daily needs. And not worrying about tomorrow, because God will provide for those who trust in him just as he provides for the birds and the wildflowers. And, of course, that is a wonderful Scripture for those who worry!
But there is another side to Jesus’ message. Here in chapter 14 of the Gospel of Luke Jesus is urging the crowds gathered about him—his would-be disciples--to do some careful calculating, some considered accounting of their abilities, resources, and loyalties, a gut-check, as it were, in light of the demands of discipleship. To see if they had what it would take to follow Jesus through tough times ahead. So that if the future brought personal loss or persecution or suffering or even death, his disciples would be spiritually prepared, and they would not be humiliated or ashamed by failing to meet the test.
So you see, alongside the Jesus who counseled to his followers to simply trust in God’s provision for the day, there is this Jesus who said that you better plan ahead and count the future cost if you want to be my disciple. You didn’t just run up to Jesus and say, “Lord, Lord,” and he signed you up for the kingdom of heaven (Matt. 7:21). Disciples of Jesus are in it for the long haul. And there is a cost. There are difficult things you may have to face, if you would be his disciple. There may be family conflicts, personal deprivation, and a cross to bear if you would follow him (Luke 14:26-27, 33).
There is always a cost to being a disciple of Jesus.
As Dietrich Bonhoeffer put it in his classic The Cost of Discipleship: “Cheap grace is the deadly enemy of our Church. We are fighting for costly grace. It is costly because it condemns sin…It is costly because it cost God the life of his Son…and what has cost God much cannot be cheap for us.”
Sometimes in the church today I wonder if we make it sound too easy to be a disciple of Jesus. Just take a short class, just say a few vows, just make a brief appearance in front of the congregation. Just support the church with your offerings when the plate is passed, just attend as often as you can, just support the church with a little help when you can, and you’re okay with us--and with Jesus, too.
And if being a disciple of Jesus seems to be that easy, isn’t it also easy to overlook its importance? Aren’t we likely to grossly devalue discipleship, if it requires so little? I mean, the things in life that are valuable we have to work for, don’t we? To hone a talent, to master a skill, to earn a degree, to perfect a marriage, to afford to a big purchase—don’t those require a considerable commitment? To purchase the pearl so precious, Jesus said that the merchant sold all that he had (Matt. 13:45-46). Things that are valuable we are willing to work for.
Sometimes we make the Christian faith too easy, I think. We make membership too easy. And in doing so we unintentionally give the message that being a disciple of Jesus isn’t any big deal.
But Jesus never said that it would be easy to be his disciple.
If you become his disciple, you are going to have to deal with your family when they ask what has gotten into you? If you become his disciple, you are going to have to deal with the fact that your Christian values often put you out-of-step with the prevailing values of the culture. If you become his disciple, you are going to have to deal with the fact that some people will find you naïve and amusing.
Jesus never said that it would be easy to be his disciple.
And so you’re sitting down and doing a little calculating—as Jesus counseled that great crowd that surrounded him to do--and you come to the conclusion, based on your calculations, weighing the pro’s and the con’s: I can’t do it. I don’t have what it takes. I’m not disciple material.
You more than anyone else know your inner state. You know your weaknesses; you know that you run hot and cold--you hardly run steadily warm; you know that you tend to drift from one fad to another; you know how much you love comfort; you know how you like to fit right in with the world; you know how much you dislike change. And you decide that you’re really not cut out to be his disciple after all.
You’ve added up your coins, and they’re not nearly enough to build that tower. You’ve counted your troops, and they’re not nearly enough to take on the enemy.
And the last thing you want to do is to get out there on a limb and make a fool of yourself. You don’t want the agnostics in your circle of friends to have the glee of saying at some future time: “Well, I didn’t think that Johnny’s religion would last.” “I thought Janie would get over that religious stage. And she has!”
You don’t want the church, before whom you stood up and took your vows, to have the occasion to say at some future time: “What ever happened to Henry? Whatever happened to Sue? We used to see them all the time. Whatever happened to them?”
And you don’t want to have to eat your words “I will” when you were asked: “According to the grace given to you will you remain a faithful member of Christ’s holy church and serve as Christ’s representative in the world?”
And so you hear Jesus’ words about the rigors of discipleship and upon careful calculation you decide it’s not for you. You are convinced that you’re not worthy enough. You’re not strong enough. You’re not holy enough. You’re really not ready to be his disciple.
And others in the crowd are making the same calculation. You see the crowd around Jesus thinning.
Now if that’s where you are this morning, ready to turn aside, drawing back, on the brink of leaving Jesus, may I speak with you? There are some other things that I would like you to factor into your calculation. Some things that you can put into your “pro” column, if you would make a fully informed decision. May I share with you that when you make the decision to follow Jesus, God provides you with enough spiritual resources to succeed. God gives you his grace that is sufficient.
Did you ever read John Bunyan’s wonderful allegory, Pilgrim’s Progress, about Christian’s journey from the City of Destruction to the Celestial City? Do you remember how traveling companions were sent to him to encourage him in his pilgrimage? First there was Evangelist, to point out the way. Then there was Faithful, to walk with him up the Hill of Difficulty, through the Valley of Humiliation, through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, past the Vanity Fair. And then Hopeful, to take him to banks of the final river to cross. Christian was not left alone. Godly individuals were sent to encourage him.
And do you remember the scene from Luke 24, the two men walking along the road from Jerusalem to Emmaus? Their hearts were crushed; their hopes were dashed. The Jesus whom they followed had been crucified and was no more. But someone came to join them and walk with them and encourage them. They didn’t realize that it was the Risen Christ. And by the end of the day their despair had lifted, and they were filled with joy (Luke 24:13-35).
When you decide to follow Jesus, you see, you don’t go it alone. God sends people along the way to help you.
You have your fellow believers here at church. And you may have fellow believers in other settings. God has sent them to encourage you. They are there to pray for you or to pray with you. They are there to rejoice with you when you rejoice. They are there to weep with you, when you weep. They are there to help you bear your burdens. And they are there to call you back when you’ve wandered off the pathway.
God has given us other spiritual resources in the church. God has given us the Lord’s Supper to nourish us in deep spiritual ways that we are not always able to articulate or enumerate. Holy Communion is food for the journey, as it were. And God has given us the Holy Scriptures to feed upon and to chew upon--inspired words to motivate and to encourage us on the journey.
And there are the resources of God himself. The Holy Spirit, who, when we welcome Christ into our lives, comes into our hearts to dwell. The Holy Spirit guides us and empowers us and makes us fruitful in God’s ways. And there is the Risen Son, at the Father’s right hand, who makes intercession for us. Who is always available to help us in our time of need.
And there are God’s messengers, his angels—some say each of us has a guardian angel—who carry out ministrations of good on our behalf. I feel sure that there are ways the angels have protected us in this life that we will not understand until we reach that celestial city.
And perhaps it is true, as the familiar story puts it, that in our most difficult days, when we felt so all alone, even deserted by God, when we looked down and saw only one set of footprints in the sand, that it was at those very times that the Lord was closest to us--indeed at those times he was carrying us.
God does not desert the disciple about midway in the journey of discipleship. God provides for us manifold spiritual resources to help us in our Christian walk. We don’t go it alone. We are spiritually rich. We have enough spiritual resources to build a tower and to complete it. We are spiritually empowered. We have sufficient spiritual armament to withstand any spiritual enemy and be victorious. Through the grace of God, we can embark upon the way of discipleship and need not fear dropping out along the way.
So there you are back in the group of people still milling around Jesus. Jesus has called you to do some calculation, to count the cost before you decide to follow him.
Your first conclusion was that you were not really able to follow—you didn’t think that you would be able to see it through.
But he responds: “My grace is sufficient for you. Rely on me. Trust in me. I’ll support you. I’ll help you. If necessary, I’ll carry you. With me you are strong. With me you are faithful. With me you are hopeful. Trust in me, and I’ll never fail you nor forsake you. Trust in me, and I’ll bring you safely through every tribulation. Trust in me, and at the end of your journey I’ll welcome you into the joys of heaven.”
And after considering his words, you redo your calculation. And this time you come to a different conclusion.
This time you don’t pull away. This time you draw nearer.
And you take up your cross and follow him.
“Extreme Hospitality”
Sept. 2, 2007 / Luke 14:12-14 / Rev. Steve Young
Someone else died ten years ago beside Princess Diana. On May 15, 1997, a funeral was held at Northside United Methodist Church in Atlanta, Georgia, to honor a distinguished American churchman, William Ragsdale Cannon. He was my bishop in North Carolina from 1980 through 1984. And he had episcopal responsibilities here in Virginia from 1970 through 1972. Some of you may remember him.
Bishop Cannon had a marvelous career as a denominational leader, a scholar, an author, and an ecumenist. Bishop Cannon was a personal friend with Jimmy Carter, giving the invocation at President Carter’s inauguration, and as an ecumenical leader he had a personal relationship with Pope John Paul II.
I’ll never forget a time when I was having a difficult time in a church in North Carolina and Bishop Cannon at a district meeting sought me out and put a fatherly hand on my shoulder and spoke encouraging words to me.
On the day of his funeral ten years ago, all sorts of famous people descended upon that church in Atlanta--politicians, educators, clerics, and dignitaries from all over the country. Now Charles Reeb was a seminary intern at the church at the time. And Reeb tells how the day before the funeral the Secret Service came to the church to scope things out because former President Carter would be attending the funeral.
On the day of the funeral the church prepared a special luncheon for the honored guests who would be attending the funeral. Reeb said he couldn’t help peering into the room to gawk at the congressmen, civic leaders, seminary presidents, and assorted bishops who were eating there. A staff member of the church passed by and asked him jokingly whether he had gotten any autographs yet. Then she asked him, “Out of all the people here, which one do you think is the most important?”
“That’s a tough one,” Reeb answered.
“Not for me,” she answered. “He’s right over there.” And she pointed to the mild-mannered, soft-spoken custodian, as he was bending over to pick up crumbs from the floor. Reeb said that he hadn’t even noticed the man amid all the famous personalities, but, as he thought more about the comment of his female associate, he agreed with her that in the kingdom of God that janitor was indeed God’s guest of honor.
Certainly the values of the kingdom of God are not the same as the values of this world. Sometimes the values of the kingdom of God are diametrically opposed to the world’s values. Jesus stressed that fact over and over again. And in our Scripture reading from the Gospel of Luke Jesus indicated that once again.
Jesus had been invited to Sabbath dinner at the home of a prominent Pharisee. On the surface the dinner was a way of honoring Jesus’ celebrity, but it was also a way of exposing Jesus to the closest scrutiny--listening to what he had to say, observing his behavior, and, of course, all the while evaluating Jesus’ decorum vis-à-vis the Jewish law.
But at the meal, Jesus, rather than being content to be the object of the Pharisee’s critical observations, took center stage and spoke and acted the values of the kingdom of God. The context for the first two-thirds of Luke chapter 14 is this Sabbath dinner. Jesus healed a sick man right there on the Sabbath and defended the healing (Luke 14:2-6). He spoke to guests about where they ought to sit when they were invited to a banquet (Luke 14:7-11). And he told a parable about a feast to which many were invited and to which many refused to come (Luke 14:15-24). And then and there in the middle of the dinner party Jesus addressed his host--about his guest list!
We have every reason to believe that the host Pharisee was following the social conventions of the day with his guest list. He had surely invited folk worthy of being present at the meal. He invited some of his peers, his fellow Pharisees. Perhaps he had invited the elders of the synagogue where he had worshiped. Perhaps he had invited some of his family members. Undoubtedly he had quite a guest list. And the people that he invited were those who were able to invite him in return to their dinner parties.
Perhaps the custom wasn’t too different from today’s social practices based on reciprocity. A few years ago a disgruntled host wrote a letter to Miss Manners, the etiquette guru, about a person she had honored by inviting him to a special dinner. But he had not returned the favor and invited her to one of his subsequent parties. She asked Miss Manners how she could in a magnanimous sort of way “wreck the nerves” of this non-reciprocator. You can probably surmise her answer, but if you really want to know, you can ask me after the service or check out her latest book!
There were social mores in Jesus’ day as well relating to the guest list for a dinner party.
But Jesus overturned the contemporary values of society. Jesus told his host that instead of inviting people who were like himself—his peers, his social equals, or even people above himself on the social ladder, people who would be likely to return the favor--he should invite those who might be considered as social outcasts. He should invite the physically handicapped--the blind, the crippled, the lame--and he should invited the economically disadvantaged, the poor, to dinner at his house.
And when he thus changed his guest list, the blessing would come, not from people like himself who were returning the favor, but the blessing would come from God himself on the Day of Judgment.
Now for those of you who like to take your Scriptures in an absolutely literal way, you may find yourself in some degree of inner distress, concluding that if that is what Jesus said about whom you should invite to dinner—don’t invite your friends; instead invite the poor--that’s the end of your little dinner parties with your friends.
But should you be inclined to take Jesus’ words in such a way you have become a legalist, creating a new law when Jesus intended no law, and you miss his point. Remember, Jesus continued to eat with his friends--his disciples--until the end. And remember that Jesus gladly accepted an invitation from his dear friends Lazarus and Mary and Martha a week before the end, and he received their hospitality without any qualms (John 12:1-8). Jesus was not giving a new law here but rather a stiff challenge to break out of the traditional social mores and to remember those whom society often forgets. And Jesus was making the point of who are especially honored in the kingdom of God. Ought not his followers honor those who are honored in the kingdom?
Blessed are those who remember the poor when they send out invitations to their dinner parties!
And I would suggest that there is even a broader application that we can draw from Jesus’ words here. We can learn from Jesus, not just about the composition of our guest lists for our private dinner parties, but also about how we as a body of believers can develop our guest list, as we invite people to worship with us, fellowship with us, serve with us, and yes, eat with us.
You know, not every religious assembly has been open to all. At approximately the same time that Jesus was inviting tax collectors and sinners to eat with him, the Essene community, the Jewish sect that produced the Dead Sea scrolls, was restricting entrance to the very people Jesus would welcome. Listen to this quote from the appendix to their Community Rule, found in one of the caves at Qumran: “No man with a physical handicap—crippled in both legs or hands, lame, blind, deaf, dumb, or possessed of a visible blemish in his flesh, or a doddering old man unable to do his share in the congregation, may enter to take a place in the congregation.”
How different that word from the Essene sect was from that of Jesus when he described who was welcome in the kingdom of God!
Praise God that it is the words of Jesus and not those of exclusive sectarianism that guide us today!
Listen to the Constitution of The United Methodist Church: “All persons without regard to race, color, national origin, status, or economic condition shall be eligible to attend its worship services, participate in its programs, receive the sacraments, upon baptism be admitted as baptized members, and upon taking vows declaring the Christian faith, become professing members in any local church in the connection.”
Listen to our conference vision statement: “We envision churches where all God’s people are welcomed at table, nurtured and transformed to be Christ to others in the world.”
Listen to the liturgical invitation for the Lord’s Supper, “Christ our Lord invites to his table all who love him, who earnestly repent of their sin, and who seek to live in peace with one another.”
You note that in our official United Methodist documents there are no distinctions between strong and weak, between healthy and sickly, between rich and poor, between workers and drones.
And the challenge for every local church is to make the inclusiveness proclaimed in our official church documents a reality in the life of the congregation. So that the local church would welcome someone who might possibly require financial help just as warmly it would welcome a person viewed as able to significantly support the budget. So that the local church would welcome a person who might require a significant amount of pastoral care and special attention just as warmly as it would welcome a self-starter who might be put right to work in a church ministry. So that the local church would welcome a person outside the church’s norm in worship preferences or educational level or mode of dress or theological stance just as warmly as it might welcome someone who seems to be a perfect fit.
I knew a church once that, instead of focusing its outreach to the middle-class neighborhood surrounding the church, directed its evangelistic efforts to an upscale subdivision five miles from the church.
Jesus might have had something to say about that.
I want to close this message with a poem that one of you e-mailed me last December. It’s a poem about feet touching. Feet touching in a holy and a healing way, I might add! I hope you like it as much as I did.
“I showered and shaved; I adjusted my tie.
I got there and sat in my pew just in time.
Bowing my head in prayer, as I closed my eyes,
I saw the shoe of the man next to me touching my own--I sighed.
With plenty of room on either side, I thought, why must our soles touch?”
It bothered me, his shoe touching mine, but it didn’t bother him much.
A prayer began: 'Our Father...' I thought: this man with the shoes has no pride.
They’re dusty, worn, and scratched. Even worse, there are holes on the side!
'Thank you for blessings,' the prayer went on. The shoe man said a quiet 'Amen'.
I tried to focus on the prayer, but my thoughts were on his shoes again.
Aren’t we supposed to look our best when walking through that door?
Well, this certainly isn’t it, I thought, glancing toward the floor.
Then the prayer was ended, and the songs of praise began.
The shoe man was certainly loud, sounding proud as he sang.
His voice lifted the rafters; his hands were raised high.
The Lord could surely hear the shoe man’s voice from the sky.
It was time for the offering, and what I threw in was steep.
I watched as the shoe man reached into his pockets so deep.
I saw what was pulled out, what the shoe man put in.
Then I heard a soft 'clink', as when silver hits tin.
The sermon really bored me to tears, and that’s no lie.
It was the same for the shoe man, for tears fell from his eyes.
"At the end of the service, as is the custom here,
we must greet new visitors and show them all good cheer.
But I felt moved somehow and wanted to meet the shoe man.
So after the closing prayer, I reached over and shook his hand.
He was old, and his skin was dark, and his hair was truly a mess.
But I thanked him for coming, for being our guest.
He said, 'My name’s Charlie; I’m glad to meet you, my friend.'
There were tears in his eyes, but he had a large, wide grin.
'Let me explain,' he said, wiping tears from his eyes.
'I’ve been coming here for months, and you’re the first to say, "Hi."
I know that my appearance is not like all the rest,
but I really do try to always look my best.
I always clean and polish my shoes before my long walk,
but by the time I get here, they’re dirty and dusty, like chalk.'
My heart filled with pain, and I swallowed to hide my tears,
as he continued to apologize for daring to sit so near.
He said, 'When I get here, I know I must look a sight,
but I thought if I could touch you, then maybe our souls might unite.'
I was silent for a moment, knowing whatever was said
would pale in comparison; I spoke from my heart, not my head.
'Oh, you’ve touched me,' I said, 'and taught me, in part,
that the best of any man is what is found in his heart.'
The rest, I thought, this shoe man will never know.
Like just how thankful I really am that his dirty old shoe touched my soul."
Steve Young
pastorsteve@fastmail.us