Matthew 10:24-39 "Where the Magic Happens"

You are welcome to use parts of this sermon, but if you do, please attribute them properly! 

         The church-going parents of four young boys often had difficulty curbing their kids’ energy.  Of course, to phrase it that way is to cast a very positive light on the situation. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that there was a lot of shoving and hitting, and generalized sibling fighting in the household.

         However, when one Sunday the pastor preached on Jesus’ teaching about "turning the other cheek," the boys gave him their undivided attention.

         “No matter what others do to us,” the pastor proclaimed, “we should never try to ‘get even.’”

         Later that same afternoon, the youngest boy stormed into the house, angry and in tears. Between sobs, he defiantly shared that, yes, he had kicked one of his brothers, but that same brother had then gone and kicked him in return.

         "I’m sorry that you are hurt," his mother said. "But you should not go around kicking people."

         Still choking back tears, the little boy replied, "But the preacher said he is not supposed to kick me back."

         Oh, that Jesus!  Our rabbi and savior is always putting a twist on everything, making our lives just that much more difficult.  But such is the way if you are really one of his followers.  There is a cost to discipleship.  There is a level of difficulty that is above and beyond the comfortable, making the way of Christianity neither easy nor, when you come right down to it, particularly attractive.

         And Jesus makes that notion abundantly clear to the disciples – and to us – in the Gospel passage we just read.  Being a Christian – being a disciple – being a follower of Jesus is no Sunday School picnic. 

         Jesus spells out for the disciples – and for us – what it will mean to truly follow his way, and he warns that neither they nor we should anticipate any better treatment than he himself got.  Expect brothers betraying brothers, he foresees, daughters rebelling, and families divided.  Get ready to lose your social status, he warns, and become disgraced in the eyes of all the beautiful people who always looked up to you.  Be prepared to take some flack for hanging out with the lowest and the least, the marginalized and the hangers on. 

        Well, that is a sobering pep talk if there ever was one – considering how the Temple elite and the Roman government both treated Jesus!  Take up your cross and follow in my footsteps?  Really?

         As Church of England pastor Joan Crossley wrote, “I think if Jesus were alive today, he would be advised to repackage his message to be more attractive. A PR expert would say, “less heavy on the potential suffering angle, Jesus, more on the eternal reward”.

         And yet - the plan is the plan, the Gospel is the Gospel, and the words we read this morning are the instructions and observations that Jesus laid out for anyone who decided to follow his way, for anyone who made the deep and serious commitment to be a disciple, to be a Christian.  These are the instructions then for any of us who have chosen to be here, in this place, this morning.  And, face it, these observations are not designed to comfort the afflicted.  They are bent on afflicting the comfortable.

         The author of the Gospel of Matthew most likely pulled together these bullet points from different sources.  Most Biblical scholars agree that they were either individual sayings or originated as several smaller collections. In the Gospel, however, they form part of the five large blocks of discourses or teachings that the author has attributed to Jesus.   

         However, within the historical context of the writing of this Gospel of Matthew, these sayings reflect the period of persecution that the new Jesus movement endured following the Roman-Jewish War, the fall of Jerusalem, and destruction of the Temple around 70 CE.  The author included these verses in the Gospel to speak to the earliest Jewish Christians who lived in a time when practicing their newfound faith invited constant disrespect, heckling, and economic sanctions right on up to even more drastic measures, that is, torture and martyrdom.  

         It all began so simply.  Remember?  Jesus was down by the lakeshore in Galilee, extending that intriguing invitation to Peter and Andrew and the others: “Come and follow me.”  Sure, it meant leaving home and all, but what an adventure!  I mean, sitting at Jesus’ feet and singing “Kumbayah” round the campfire at night, watching him perform miracles, wandering the highways and byways with this itinerant rabbi.         

         Sure – there were a few uncomfortable times, like when he tried preaching in his hometown of Nazareth and folks got so angry they nearly threw him off a cliff before railroading them all out of town. But the disciples were like the backup band, playing along from a distance.

         And then, something changed.  In the Gospel of Matthew, that change is articulated right here in Chapter 10, in the verses just before our passage, verses we call “The Great Commission.”  As Presbyterian pastor Robina Winbush writes, “The disciples move from being those who sit with Jesus and learn from Jesus to now being sent forth into the world. Jesus sends them out to cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons, to be about the work of ministry, to be about the business of partnering with the Divine in the liberation work of rescuing and redeeming humankind.

         And Jesus tells them, ‘It's serious work. And as you go out, I need you to understand some things. I need you to undergo a radical reorientation of how you look at life, at how you look at this mission. You're gonna go out, but don't think that life is going to be any different for you than it has been for me.’ There's a temptation (Winbush writes) to sometimes believe that when Jesus calls us to follow him, to live in relationship with the Divine, that it somehow or another creates for us a zone of acceptance, a zone of comfort.”

         However, if we look to this passage, that is not so: brothers against brothers, daughters against mothers.  That is hardly comfortable stuff!  “I did not come to bring peace but a sword.”  I did not come with the easy answer.  I came to turn the world upside down and inside out – and that now is your mission too.

         Whoa!  Wait a minute!  Are you saying no more “Kumbayah”? We did not bargain for this! 

         OK – what exactly then are we to expect as Jesus’ followers? What can we anticipate will be the cost of discipleship? Those are surely important questions for any of us doing the “church thing.”  What are we getting into anyway?  What are we committing to?  Jesus mentions at least two things.

         First, he tells us that we will encounter division. Remember? “I did not come to bring peace on this earth,” he says. I did not come to bring peace in your family. I did not come to bring peace in your family gathered around your fireplace.

There will be no singing kumbayah as together we set out to usher in God’s kingdom.

         The long and the short of it is when you and I proclaim the gospel message of compassionate love and justice “in the light and from the rooftops”  (as one translation reads), people are not always going to like what we say. 

         After all, Jesus’ message is not a positive one in our popular culture.  First, there is all of this rhetoric about going out-of-our-way to help the down-and-out in Raymond, the homeless in Portland, and the food insecure from Cherryfield to most of the third world.

         And then there is the expectation – not suggestion but expectation - that we will give up our own time and money and daily Dunkin Donuts or Starbuck’s lattes.  No wonder the Gospel message is divisive – and the cost of discipleship seems so high.

         Second, Jesus is telling us that not only will we encounter division, but, as we do, we will have a fundamental decision to make over and over again.  And that decision is this:  Are we for him or not?  That is, if we are not overtly for Jesus, if we are unwilling to risk living his message, then we are against him.         

         After all, if we will not give up Dunkin’ Donuts or Starbucks for the Gospel, then how can we expect others to do so?  When we choose not to overtly live the Gospel message, when we choose not to be transformed ourselves, then we fail to utilize the most powerful tool we have to change the world – because transformation (both individual and societal) is what Jesus is all about. 

         Yes, the cost of discipleship is high because it challenges us to move outside our comfort zones and to stand firm in our faith and in our commitment to the way of Jesus.

         However, that should not really surprise us because, at its very roots, Christianity was a countercultural movement, begun by a small and vulnerable minority.  It is hard to believe that today, of course – especially in our country.  We are all pretty comfortable in our faith here and in our church going. Our congregations are not composed, for the most part, of militants, counter-culturalists, and revolutionaries.

         However, Jesus still calls us out of our comfort zones.  He still calls us to risk in his name.  And so we are challenged to inform ourselves about what is going on in our world.  We are challenged to speak out.  We are challenged to take a stand.  

We are challenged to reflect on the meaning of our faith and to ask ourselves the difficult questions, difficult because they have the potential to catapult us right out of our comfort zones. 

         Questions like:  What issues touch your faith? What are you willing to take a stand on? Global climate change?  The transport of tar sands oil?  Health care? The expansion of Medicaid? Homelessness?  Hunger?  Teenaged girls abducted in Nigeria? Syrian refugees fleeing their war-torn homeland?  Solidarity with gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender persons?  The safety of our children through effective gun control?

         Questions like:  How are you acting on those faith-based issues and changing the world? What role are you actively playing in ushering in the Kingdom?  As United Church of Canada pastor, David Ewart wrote, “We all know how to lose our life so that it is lost. The trick is to figure out how to lose one's life so that it will be found.” 

         In the end, you know, as followers of Jesus, we cannot claim to be too old.  We cannot claim to be too tired.  We cannot claim that we have already paid our dues. We can not claim that we just want worship to comfort us.  “Take up your cross and follow in my footsteps.”

         There is an old marketing (and political) aphorism:  Will it sell in Peoria?  Because, the thought process goes, if it will sell in Peoria, it will sell in Chicago, New York, Portland, even Raymond, Maine. 

         Well, Jesus was no marketer or politician.  As Lutheran pastor, Edward Markquart reflects, “Jesus was oblivious to these kinds of mechanisms.  Jesus never asked, “Will this sell in Jerusalem?”  “Disciples, do you think that the people in Jericho will buy into this kind of idea?” 

         And today’s Scripture lesson is another one of the many examples of the offensiveness of Jesus of Nazareth, of the radical offensiveness, of the bluntness.  Jesus is willing to tell it like it is.  He is going to tell you up front about the cost of discipleship…. Jesus is blunt.  He is so blunt he is not afraid of offending anyone.” 

         In this passage we read today, the author tells us about real discipleship and what it will entail – and, if we are honest with ourselves, it is not the kind of discipleship we like to hear about, and it is not the kind of discipleship we like to think applies to us.         

         But it is the kind of discipleship we need to hear about – and it does apply to us here in the church.  As the church, we are called like no other group is called to move out beyond these four walls into the world – just like the first disciples.  We as the church are called like no other group to be committed folks who stand up and speak out and take action because of our faith.  In short, Jesus challenges us.  Jesus sets out to afflict the comfortable – and that would be us. 

         And yet, in the midst of his radical offensiveness and bluntness is a whispered hope.  “Do not be afraid,” Jesus tells us.  Three times in this passage he tells us:  “Do not be afraid.”

         As Methodist pastor Susan Bresser assures us, “In the face of persecution, or let’s say in the face of criticism, or in the face of risk-taking for our faith, Jesus says we have nothing to fear. …Don’t be afraid to be challenged, because your faith is your foundation.”

         And so we set forth into the season of Pentecost, into what the church calls “ordinary time,” a time of quiet growth and spiritual self-discovery, a time to reflect upon our willingness to accept the cost of discipleship in our own lives.          

         We set forth with the unending challenge of the Gospel and with the recognition that this crazy idea of afflicting the comfortable surely will not sell in Peoria.  But we also set forth with the whispered hope that our faith in the power of God’s love will be enough, so that we will risk, we will grapple with the tough issues, we will stand up, we will speak out, and we will take action.  

         There is a cost to discipleship.  That is for sure.  Venturing out of our comfort zone is never easy, but oh, when we do, that is where the magic happens.

by Rev. Nancy Foran, Raymond Village Community Church, U.C.C.