CCIPH - Messages

Messages from the Body

Here is a sampling of some of the messages that have made a special impact at CCiPH, and that have been transcribed or written in manuscript.

Most weeks in our equipping assembly, at least one man has been asked to prepare a message that will build up believers. Often, the message is taken from the liturgical Gospel reading of the day, or it is a life message that God has been working into the fabric of that man. It is included here to build you up.

"It's Not What You Think:" Hard Sayings of Jesus

Message from Ben Gregory on June 27, 2004

Luke 9:51-62

The lectionary has us at the end of the ninth chapter of Luke’s gospel this morning, where we find two seemingly unrelated (or at least loosely related) stories. The first is the one where James and John want to rain fire down on a Samaritan village and the second is a series of briefly recorded conversations between Jesus and some would-be followers.

So let’s back up a little and see what Luke’s working on here. Earlier in the chapter Jesus has healed a boy who’d been suffering from terrible seizures, and as everyone’s standing around amazed at Jesus and at the greatness of God, he tells his disciples that he was going to be betrayed. Tells them to listen and make sure it sinks in. And I bet they had a hard time believing him. They’d just been witness – again – to his power; how could he be sold out by anyone? There’s something they’re not getting.

Then, around verse 46, Jesus explains to them the relationship between greatness and humility in the kingdom, (we’ve looked at that together here,) and, again, it’s not what they expected.

Beginning in verse 49, he throws them a curve by not seeming to care much that they’ve seen someone out doing good – casting out demons – who wasn’t one of them, hadn’t traveled with them. These guys had actually tried (unsuccessfully) to stop the person doing the healing – this is tragic. And Jesus says, "It’s not like you think."

And immediately after that, beginning in verse 54, Jesus has to rebuke James and John for wanting to call fire down from the sky and kill a village full of people who had rejected Jesus. I wish Luke had recorded that rebuke. Undoubtedly Jesus pointed out – directly or otherwise – that there was something regarding Jesus and the Kingdom that he came to establish that James and John still didn’t quite understand. But Luke doesn’t tell us what Jesus said. He’s content to leave us to deduce from other sources why raining fire down onto a village full of people who didn’t understand was inappropriate.

And by verse 56 they’re back on the road, on their way to another village en route to Jerusalem, where, when it’s time, Jesus will demonstrate the ultimate confusing irony – God on a cross.

And as they’re walking along, (and I’ve said it before, but isn’t that where life happens?) a man says to Jesus, "I will follow you wherever you go."
Michael Wilson pointed out one night that Jesus has this habit of saying whatever it takes to turn a conversation uncomfortable. Most of us aren’t like that. Most of us are very interested in smooth social exchanges where everyone feels okay.

Here’s a guy who’s saying exactly what we think Jesus wants to hear: "I will follow you wherever you go," and Jesus gets weird on him. "The foxes have holes and the birds of the air have nests," he says, "but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head." And I wonder if this guy just went, "huh?"

In verse 59 Luke records another conversation with a different man. It’s possible that it took place on the same trip along the same road, but whether it did or not, Luke has included it here for a reason. Somehow it has to do with what Jesus has just said to the first man about himself. (Notice that this time Jesus recruits the guy, where the first man had volunteered). The second conversation goes like this: Jesus says, "Follow me," and the man says that first – if Jesus will permit it – he’d like to go bury his father. (That seems reasonable to me.) And Jesus says, "Allow the dead to bury their own dead; but as for you, go and proclaim everywhere the kingdom of God." And at first glance Jesus’ response may seem rough, but let’s look closer.

He doesn’t tell him that he can’t go to the funeral. In fact, without being specific, he does tell him to go. He sends him off to proclaim the Kingdom, (which he could well do at a funeral,) but he seems to want to make sure that he does it with an awareness that in doing so he’s no longer numbered among those to whom Jesus refers as, "the dead." "Let the dead bury their own dead," he says. What’s he mean? Dead people can’t conduct funerals, can they? Depends what you mean by "dead."

Apparently, this whole Kingdom thing is so different from anything else the world had known that it’s the difference between life and death. Jesus wants to make it clear that he’s not talking about death, he’s talking about life. And maybe you can "go" and "follow" at the same time. And maybe the best way for this man to do that was to bring some Life to a funeral. (I’ve seen that done–and so have you.)
There’s a third conversation, beginning in verse 61, and again, it may or may not have taken place along the road. This time it’s hard to tell whether Jesus has invited the man or if he’s volunteering, but this guy just wants to go home and say good-bye to his friends and family. And again, Jesus gets weird and says the least socially comfortable thing. "No one, after putting his hand to the plow and looking back, is fit for the Kingdom of God."

Most of my life I’ve heard this text presented to sound like if you have any second thoughts about following Jesus, then you don’t deserve to – you’re not worthy. But I don’t think that’s what Jesus is getting at. I think it’s closer to the point to say that the looking back may not refer to having second thoughts, but to a nostalgia for the security of the old way of doing things, and that it doesn’t make a person unworthy, but indicates that a person doesn’t understand the nature of the Kingdom.

If what this man in verse 61 wants to do is go back and make sure that his friends and family understand and are okay with his following Jesus, then he doesn’t get it. So much so, in fact, that later in Luke, in another situation, Jesus will say, "If anyone comes after me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple" (14:26).

I thought Jesus was supposed to be pro-family. Apparently it depends what you mean by "family," because in Mark’s gospel, we find a story in which Jesus is teaching – surrounded by disciples – and his mother and brothers show up looking for him. And when he’s informed that his family has arrived, he looks around at the crowd and says, "You are my family – my mother and brothers. Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother."

There are so many things that keep us from living the Life that Jesus came to give us. Family can be one. I also know too many people who can’t or won’t follow where Jesus seems to be leading them because they’re afraid to risk the safety of their religious status quo.

You decide to follow Jesus and you won’t always fit in anymore. Ruthie recently had to fill out some medical forms and there was space on one of them for her to check to indicate her religious preference. She told me she wrestled a while with the word "religion" and with the connotations that the word "Christian" has in 2004 for people who don’t know her. Finally she checked, "other," and wrote in the word "Jesus." Life in the Kingdom isn’t always simple. And it won’t be nailed down and defined and limited by a label or a box to check.

The little group of pilgrims that meets at our house (among other places) is experiencing the same thing in varying degrees. We’re not "Christian" enough – meaning "religious" enough – for some of our concerned friends and family, but we’re still different from lots of the people at work by virtue of our pursuit of Life in the Kingdom and of the changes in priority that that pursuit brings about.
Apparently, this Kingdom thing was such a radical departure from what people were used to that it was almost expected that a person’s friends and family wouldn’t understand.

So radical that living it could even bring life to a funeral.

And I think that brings us back to verse 58, where Jesus points out that he himself is a striking example of just how upside-down the whole thing is. Birds and foxes have homes, he says, but the Son of Man himself doesn’t. That doesn’t seem right.

People do with Jesus what they want to – I think it’s a joke for anyone, myself included, to claim objectivity when it comes to these texts. For Rich Mullins, this verse was about Jesus’ identifying with the poor and the homeless. But given everything else that’s going on in the immediate context, it seems to me that he’s pointing out and illustrating the degree to which the Kingdom – which he also describes as an eternal kind of Life – won’t immediately make sense to everyone. It’s not always what you think.