Some of the most memorable lessons we learn in life come from the things we get wrong. I was a science major in my undergraduate degree… there were right answers and wrong answers – you can’t fake your way through diagraming the molecule for glucose or cholesterol. But my master’s degree is as much philosophical as it is factual. I had a church history professor who would let us take notes into our midterm and final exams… don’t just spout off dates, he said. Prove to me that you can use what we’ve read and talked about… which is why I had three hours to write on the single exam question: compare and contrast the theological understandings of Luther, Wesley, Calvin, and Thomas Cranmer… or something like that. At the after-exam lunch discussion, I couldn’t remember the things I got right, but I was quick to recognize the parts I got wrong. I learned an important lesson – even wrong answers can teach us important things.
This week we hear Jesus’ encounter with
another bystander. The man runs up to Jesus before he and his disciples were
departing to another place and asks a question – Good teacher, what must I do
to inherit eternal life? This question doesn’t seem so far away from the
question that many of us have heard – how do we get to heaven – but Jesus is
once again unwilling to share a short, pithy answer.
Jesus seems a little annoyed – he asks,
“Why do you call me good? Don’t you know that only God is good?” … Jesus wasn’t
into false flattery. And then he tells the man to follow the commandments. But
the man volleys back – “Oh, I’ve done that since I was a kid.” Now, Jesus’
response could have gone in several directions… he could have dismissed him and
sent him on his way. He could have queried him – please tell me what that looks
like for you. But the text tells us something important about Jesus’ response.
It says, “Jesus, looking at him, love him and replied…” Was it the man’s
eagerness in his response? We don’t know. But what Jesus said next changed the
encounter from one of delight to disappointment.
We don’t know why Jesus asked the man to
do this. We don’t know if this was something he regularly addressed or if there
was something particular about this man. Reading on, it doesn’t seem like Jesus
is surprised by his response. He turns around and speaks to the disciples and
followers gathered around. Jesus says something that strikes fear in us today,
“It’s hard for the rich to enter the Kingdom of God.” BTW, this appears to be
the only instance where Jesus invites someone to join and the person refuses.
Apparently. the rich man learned a lesson particular to him – Jesus asks a
price that is too high. But the real students here are the disciples, and by
extension, us.
This seems to blow the disciples out of
the water, and someone asks, “Then who will be saved, if not them?” Jesus’
reply: Humans cannot work their way into the Kingdom – but God – well, God can
do anything.” Peter, always wanting to get in another word, protests – Hey,
Jesus, you can’t be talking about us – we’ve left everything to follow you. And
then Jesus says a confusing thing: Whatever you’ve left in this world will be
returned to 100-fold in the future – and in the end, eternal life. “Don’t
worry,” he says, “All of this is not for nothing. It will be better than OK in
the end.”
All over, preachers are attempting to
preach this text in a way that doesn’t alienate their givers, just as they are
building their budgets for the next year. Some of using guilt to part people
with their money. Others are talking about the necessity of money to provide
opportunities for discipleship. When I read this text, I don’t feel like Jesus
is trying to shame this man into parting with his wealth. No, I think Jesus is
trying to tell him that things can sometimes separate us from the fullness of a
life of faith.[i]
Like many of you, I left a lot behind –
I’ve changed careers, married into a military family, where for 22 years I
picked up and followed the whims of the Air Force. I’ve learned that the Dream
Sheet for future assignments can get your hopes up by showing you all the
possibilities, only to dash them on the rocks… “You’re going to Grand Forks in
January – don’t worry - it’s the perfect time to move there.” And while those
AF moves didn’t mean I gave up my career, it certainly doesn’t look anything
like what I expected it to. It’s taken me about 20 years to not just be OK with
that, but grateful for all the unexpected ways ministry has unfolded before me.
That being said, we need to realize that
with the joy of following Jesus, there will also be hardships. Yes, Jesus can
fix our lives, but often in ways that are more painful than we expect. The rich
man thought about what Jesus was asking and decided it wasn’t worth the risk.
At least he was honest.
One of the tragedies in the Christian
community today is people who gloss over the difficulties that following Jesus
will bring to our lives. We will not just be asked to part with our money and
our stuff, but also to be in relationship with all the people that Jesus loves
– people our society would often rather forget.[ii]
Jesus' ministry was all about turning life
upside down – keeping people unbalanced enough to have to keep paying
attention. Jesus did that in person and keeps doing that today. Maybe we aren’t
reminded enough that this life will take a toll on us. And either we will
become more like him or we won’t. And we never know when we will be asked to
make the choices that Jesus asks us to make.
In 2006, a 32-year-old man walked into a
one-room schoolhouse in an Amish community outside Lancaster, PA. He separated
the boys and sent them away, and because he was mad at God, began shooting the
10 girls who were left behind. The shooter killed himself as authorities
responded. Five girls survived, but the entire community was racked with grief.
In a nearby town, Terri Roberts grieved
for a whole different reason. Her son, Charlie, was the killer. Not only was he
also dead, but she and her husband were overwhelmed with guilt for what their
son had done. They prepared to bury their son in secret. They immediately
decided to leave the community so that their presence would not be a reminder
to the families left behind.
But the night after the shooting, members
of the Amish community visited the Roberts’ house and told them, “We don’t want
to you leave – your grief is just as real and valid as ours.” “We will forgive
you,” an Amish neighbor told the father of the gunman. Over half of the mourners at the gunman’s
funeral were members of the Amish community.
His wife and children were overwhelmed by the kindness model by the
Amish community and reflected in other surround church families.
Assistance and prayers poured in from
around the world. A writer from the local paper described it this way: “The
modern community held fundraisers to help pay for the medical costs of the
injured and the funerals of the dead... The local, state, national and
international community raised over $4 million. The Amish community used some
of the money to establish the Roberts Family Fund, which helps support Robert’s
widow and three children.
When asked why they would respond this
way, their spokesperson responded: “The Amish culture closely follows the
teachings of Jesus, who taught his followers to forgive one another, to place
the needs of others before themselves, and to rest in the knowledge that God is
still in control and can bring good out of any situation. Love and compassion
toward others are to be life’s theme. Vengeance and revenge are to be left to
God.”[iii]
Terri Roberts didn’t let that be the end.
When it became evident that one of the shooting victims had sustained injuries
that would require individualized care, she volunteered to be one of her
people. And for many years, the parents of this young woman welcomed Terri in
to help care for their daughter – to be a part of the most intimate pain of
their family – not as a punishment, but as a shared burden of forgiveness.[iv]
How many of us could stand in their shoes
and do what they have done? I honestly do
not know. But their example, while odd
and newsworthy to many, is a tremendous witness. I want to be like them when I am confronted
with evil and pain. I want to remember
that death is not the end of life, but the beginning of eternity with Jesus and
his Father, and with everyone who has gone to be with them before me. I want to get to that place in my life where
I can say, “I forgive,” and mean it.
We often relate to bible stories within
our own stories. We ask the question,
“What does this mean to me?” But it
occurs to me that we can also ask, “What does this mean for all of us together?” Another way to ask the question would be “What
does it mean to be the church?” Is it
about this building, the organ, having plenty of hymnals, and people to sing
from them? Is it about a growing budget and
large staff?
The rich man asked Jesus what he had to do
for eternal life. Jesus told him to love God and his neighbor. “This I have done,” the man said. “Then give away all you own and follow
me.” But he could not and went away
unfulfilled. Jesus reminds us that to follow
him means role reversal, as far as the world is concerned. To be great is not to be in a position of
power ‑‑ it means being a servant. Sometimes
we have to give up things that are important to us until we realize that people
are more important than things.
Who knows what will be required of
us? Who knows what challenges we will
meet along the way? I don’t know and
will not predict, because God always surprises me in the end, but never
disappoints. I think we have a long way
to go, but I also believe that we have made progress along the way. To be followers of Jesus means turning our
worlds upside down and practicing our faith, just like we practiced the piano
when we were kids. It is a process, a
journey, a way of life, where Jesus calls us to follow him. There’s nothing easy or simple about it. And it’s not something anyone else can do for
us.
St Francis of Assisi wrote a beautiful
prayer that captures the heart of the gospel message and which I hope we can
take with us as our prayer today. Let us
pray.
Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy.
O, Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love; For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; it is in dying that we are born again to eternal life. Amen.[v]
[ii] Bob Cornwall, https://www.bobcornwall.com/2021/10/wealth-and-realm-of-god-lectionary.html
[iii] https://lancasterpa.com/amish/amish-school-shooting/
[iv] https://www.cbsnews.com/news/mother-of-amish-school-shooter-shares-amazing-story-of-forgiveness/
[v] http://www.catholicwomen.com/kc015.htm
No comments:
Post a Comment