Readings:
1 Kings 19:15-16,19-21
Galations 5:1,13-25
Luke 9:51-62
Lay Preacher: Pam Shellberg
Today’s text from Luke brings what appear to be harsh words from an “otherwise” loving Jesus, a warning that hits at the heart. But Pam Shellberg takes those seemingly harsh words in which that warning is delivered, and unwraps what is perhaps an underlying message that brings the supposed and allegedly harsh tone into a broader context.
Jesus speaks very explicit words in Luke’s Gospel. His disciples vow they will “follow wherever you (Jesus) go” to which He replies, “The foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” Upon asking another to follow Him, Jesus has a man reply “First let me go and bury my father” to which Jesus replies ”Let the dead bury their own dead; but, as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God.” To another who asks to put his affairs in order first, He replies that “no one who puts a hand to the plow and los back is fit for the kingdom of God.”
Harsh words, indeed.
Pam Shellberg delivered a thought-provoking interpretation of the lesson underlying the words, I believe. As a very wise pastor once told me:
“There is ambiguity in this message, now isn’t there. And, if there is, it might just be that we were meant to ponder and examine that ambiguity.” That we might learn a message it was meant to convey.
In my heart, Pam did this most effectively today. And from several different vantage points, as I heard her words.
First, let’s examine the voice of God as Father: “If you take of yourself first, your family, your affairs first, you are not fit for the kingdom of God.” Translation? To be fit, you must perform in a certain way, to a certain standard. God as Father figure often speaks harsh words in a demanding tone. The words are not “Jesus loves me!” This perhaps would be the voice of God as Mother, but this is not the voice we hear today.
Second, the Samaritans do not receive Jesus. To be received, it is necessary for Him to fulfill his destiny, to die in Jerusalem. But neither do the Samaritans reject Jesus. They reject where He is heading – toward Jerusalem, his destiny. What does this mean?
Pam gives an eloquent metaphor for us to consider. Jesus is focused on Jerusalem, his Eye on the Prize. He does not forget His destiny, His mission, His predominant reason for being on this Earth, His role, His gift, His calling. Jerusalem is the metaphor for our role for the kingdom, our place in the tapestry.
It is human nature, at times, to forget this or even deny it. There is a good book written called The Imposter Phenomenon, addressing a psychological phenomenon well known, particularly to artists and those pursuing creative-minded occupations. Those gifted to be writers often settle for being text editors, artists settle for being salespersons of great art. They are close to their calling, but all suffer a single common flaw in obtaining their rightful place in the tapestry. They get almost uncomfortably close to their calling but resist embracing it. It may very well be human nature that drives us this way.
As Pam points out, we believe we can find God “in a little town, along the way”. As humans, we want “to stay home and have God come to us”. Perhaps, as she also deftly points out, Jesus is warning us it doesn’t work that way. Mohammed doesn’t want to go to the mountain, he wants the mountain to come to him! Perhaps when Jesus tells us “the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head”, he is saying “you will not be able to follow me comfortably to your home; to follow me, someone who has no place to lay His head, means you must be prepared to be homeless yourself, as was I”.
Pam describes the very personal circumstances of burying her own father: designing the butterflies on his funeral bulletin, penning thoughtful letters to his oncology doctors and others whose presence in those last days and weeks of a life, bring meaning and comfort to the terminally ill. She wrote to offer an awareness to those people that they were, indeed, the bearers of God’s presence in a life near death.
In the days following her father’s passing, she stood close to, in the mystery of death.
To one so thoughtful, faithful, and aware of the importance of living presence in the face of death and resurrection; aware of the commandment to “honor thy parents”, Jesus’ words, Pam admitted, were ones she ‘struggled to wrap her head around”. This must have been a feeling all too common in that sanctuary. I have not buried my father, but I felt the ambiguity and the struggle to find meaning in those seemingly harsh words. Perhaps, that is only human nature.
Pam then found a way to wrap those words around … a heart.
Jesus, she reminded us, was not, is not without compassion for the dying, for the survivors of those closest to those in death. Perhaps, as she points out, Jesus is only saying that it is possible for these events to become all-consuming to our human nature. In so devoting our God-given energies for these, we may take our “eyes off the prize”, “off our individual roads to Jerusalem” – our destinies, our places in the grand tapestry. In a book I have quoted often in this blog, Jesus CEO, one chapter is entitles “He Guarded His Energy”. In it, Laurie Beth Jones reminds us that Jesus knew his eyes could be taken off his destiny and he zealously guarded against any attempts to derail his purpose, even to the point of reminding His mother Mary why He had to be preaching in the temple.
Jesus is not anti-family. He recounts the parable of the Prodigal Son, he attends weddings, he revives the dead son of a widowed mother. But in the game of family vs. discipleship, He has a stern warning, words as harsh as his compassion is sincere in those other encounters.
Family commitments can put us on slippery slopes with obligation. This is, perhaps, because these are our most profoundly intimate and our deepest relationships on this Earth. In such relationships, Pam most beautifully reminds us we “reach for the language of the Sacred”. In birth, there is creation; in becoming parents, we are aware for perhaps the first time what it feels like to know you would sacrifice your life for another human being; we celebrate covenants and promises of infinite love; and in death, we embrace the language of honor and hope for the reunion in the Resurrection.
Our deepest expressions are in our families and our homes.
1 Kings 19:15-16,19-21
Galations 5:1,13-25
Luke 9:51-62
Lay Preacher: Pam Shellberg
Today’s text from Luke brings what appear to be harsh words from an “otherwise” loving Jesus, a warning that hits at the heart. But Pam Shellberg takes those seemingly harsh words in which that warning is delivered, and unwraps what is perhaps an underlying message that brings the supposed and allegedly harsh tone into a broader context.
Jesus speaks very explicit words in Luke’s Gospel. His disciples vow they will “follow wherever you (Jesus) go” to which He replies, “The foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” Upon asking another to follow Him, Jesus has a man reply “First let me go and bury my father” to which Jesus replies ”Let the dead bury their own dead; but, as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God.” To another who asks to put his affairs in order first, He replies that “no one who puts a hand to the plow and los back is fit for the kingdom of God.”
Harsh words, indeed.
Pam Shellberg delivered a thought-provoking interpretation of the lesson underlying the words, I believe. As a very wise pastor once told me:
“There is ambiguity in this message, now isn’t there. And, if there is, it might just be that we were meant to ponder and examine that ambiguity.” That we might learn a message it was meant to convey.
In my heart, Pam did this most effectively today. And from several different vantage points, as I heard her words.
First, let’s examine the voice of God as Father: “If you take of yourself first, your family, your affairs first, you are not fit for the kingdom of God.” Translation? To be fit, you must perform in a certain way, to a certain standard. God as Father figure often speaks harsh words in a demanding tone. The words are not “Jesus loves me!” This perhaps would be the voice of God as Mother, but this is not the voice we hear today.
Second, the Samaritans do not receive Jesus. To be received, it is necessary for Him to fulfill his destiny, to die in Jerusalem. But neither do the Samaritans reject Jesus. They reject where He is heading – toward Jerusalem, his destiny. What does this mean?
Pam gives an eloquent metaphor for us to consider. Jesus is focused on Jerusalem, his Eye on the Prize. He does not forget His destiny, His mission, His predominant reason for being on this Earth, His role, His gift, His calling. Jerusalem is the metaphor for our role for the kingdom, our place in the tapestry.
It is human nature, at times, to forget this or even deny it. There is a good book written called The Imposter Phenomenon, addressing a psychological phenomenon well known, particularly to artists and those pursuing creative-minded occupations. Those gifted to be writers often settle for being text editors, artists settle for being salespersons of great art. They are close to their calling, but all suffer a single common flaw in obtaining their rightful place in the tapestry. They get almost uncomfortably close to their calling but resist embracing it. It may very well be human nature that drives us this way.
As Pam points out, we believe we can find God “in a little town, along the way”. As humans, we want “to stay home and have God come to us”. Perhaps, as she also deftly points out, Jesus is warning us it doesn’t work that way. Mohammed doesn’t want to go to the mountain, he wants the mountain to come to him! Perhaps when Jesus tells us “the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head”, he is saying “you will not be able to follow me comfortably to your home; to follow me, someone who has no place to lay His head, means you must be prepared to be homeless yourself, as was I”.
Pam describes the very personal circumstances of burying her own father: designing the butterflies on his funeral bulletin, penning thoughtful letters to his oncology doctors and others whose presence in those last days and weeks of a life, bring meaning and comfort to the terminally ill. She wrote to offer an awareness to those people that they were, indeed, the bearers of God’s presence in a life near death.
In the days following her father’s passing, she stood close to, in the mystery of death.
To one so thoughtful, faithful, and aware of the importance of living presence in the face of death and resurrection; aware of the commandment to “honor thy parents”, Jesus’ words, Pam admitted, were ones she ‘struggled to wrap her head around”. This must have been a feeling all too common in that sanctuary. I have not buried my father, but I felt the ambiguity and the struggle to find meaning in those seemingly harsh words. Perhaps, that is only human nature.
Pam then found a way to wrap those words around … a heart.
Jesus, she reminded us, was not, is not without compassion for the dying, for the survivors of those closest to those in death. Perhaps, as she points out, Jesus is only saying that it is possible for these events to become all-consuming to our human nature. In so devoting our God-given energies for these, we may take our “eyes off the prize”, “off our individual roads to Jerusalem” – our destinies, our places in the grand tapestry. In a book I have quoted often in this blog, Jesus CEO, one chapter is entitles “He Guarded His Energy”. In it, Laurie Beth Jones reminds us that Jesus knew his eyes could be taken off his destiny and he zealously guarded against any attempts to derail his purpose, even to the point of reminding His mother Mary why He had to be preaching in the temple.
Jesus is not anti-family. He recounts the parable of the Prodigal Son, he attends weddings, he revives the dead son of a widowed mother. But in the game of family vs. discipleship, He has a stern warning, words as harsh as his compassion is sincere in those other encounters.
Family commitments can put us on slippery slopes with obligation. This is, perhaps, because these are our most profoundly intimate and our deepest relationships on this Earth. In such relationships, Pam most beautifully reminds us we “reach for the language of the Sacred”. In birth, there is creation; in becoming parents, we are aware for perhaps the first time what it feels like to know you would sacrifice your life for another human being; we celebrate covenants and promises of infinite love; and in death, we embrace the language of honor and hope for the reunion in the Resurrection.
Our deepest expressions are in our families and our homes.
As with other good things, even the best things … all things still are best in moderation or dangerous in overt excess. Perhaps, the more meaningful these relationships are to us, the harder for us, as humans, to recognize when they may come to cloud our vision of the road to Jerusalem and our destinies for God’s plan.
Pam confessed that at key times in her life when she sought answers, she would ask “What would my father do?” She told us how he served as her moral compass. Jesus is reminding us to also remember that “What would my father do?” does not always equate to “What would Jesus do?” … however much we reach for the language of the Sacred.
So here’s the question …
Jesus is not looking for His family or His home town; he has his sights fixed on his destiny that is on the far horizon; He sets his face toward Jerusalem.
Perhaps seemingly harsh words are less than subtle reminders that we, too, are called to keep our eyes on the horizon, on our further purpose, higher purpose, our calling, or destiny. We are all called to keep our eyes on a personal Jerusalem and a personal cross.
Pam reassured us that there is a dearth of clear answers – one thing she is all too aware of as she attempts to complete her dissertation. I can assure Pam that that is a realization faced by those who complete their dissertation in fields as far flung as the physical sciences, as well, and all of us struggling to answer any questions with lasting meaning. All searches for truth go through the rough fields of ambiguity. She concluded her sermon these wisely chosen words:
“There is an assured dearth of clear answers … surely (those answers) have to do with something of which I am presently unaware.”
Those words left me with a lump in my throat. We are without clear answers, but, in light of that, we are called to keep our eyes on the collective horizon. There, God is calling us and we may need all our energies to hear that calling.
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