We walk the way of the Cross

Walking the Way of the Cross
Pentecost 2
Matthew 10:34-42
Vicar Darren Harbaugh

A little over 150 years ago, the Civil War began. It’s been referred to as the “Brother’s War,” in part because families were torn apart by differing loyalties.

At the battle of Shiloh, when two Kentucky regiments were fighting each other, one of the Union soldiers wounded his own brother and took him prisoner. After the soldier handed over his brother, he began firing at a man near a tree. The captured brother shouted, "Bill! Hold your fire! That's father!"

Loyalties in the Civil War ran deep, with the result that it set a man against his father. Families were divided, severed in two.

Imagine if the Union Soldiers had said, “This is too much! I can’t handle such family conflict.” Our country’s history would read a bit differently.

There have been times when millions of men have given up a comfortable, quiet life with friends and family, and have taken up arms in service to their nation. They were willing to suffer loss of life and limb for a greater cause.

In the Gospel reading today from Matthew 10, Jesus issues a similar call of duty to his disciples.

The disciples were enlisted men, commissioned by Jesus to proclaim the kingdom of God; sent out as sheep in the midst of wolves. Jesus gives the disciples their marching orders: This is not to be a peacekeeping mission. They will be right in the thick of it. “Do not think that I came to bring peace on the earth,” Jesus says “I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.”

Jesus is saying that because of him, there will be conflict. And he draws a line in the sand, saying, “Are you with me?”

The disciples needed to know they were not entitled to a quiet life. Followers of Jesus have signed away all their rights to a comfortable self-determined existence.

The disciples found out that the message “Jesus is Lord” is a declaration of war against sin and selfishness often provoking a violent response from those threatened by it. This has always been the case. Sometimes this hostility comes from your own friends and family. Try talking about sin with someone who is proud of their ungodly behavior and see how far you get.

By saying that he came to bring a sword, Jesus was telling his disciples that loyalty to God and his mission comes first. The result may be that family ties are strained to the breaking point. A true disciple knows who to love more, putting the cause of Christ above all else.

As much as you love your children or grandchildren; As much as your love your parents and grandparents - Jesus demands a loyalty which transcends even the closest family tie.

Hear his word again: “I have come to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother, and a daughter in law against her mother in law. And a person’s enemies will be those of his own household. Whoever loves father or mother, more than me is not worthy of me. And whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me.”

Loyalty to Christ may mean that your family is no longer a place of refuge.

The world seeks peace – a truce, a ceasefire - achieved by overlooking or ignoring differences. There could be “peace” if Christians stopped sharing the good news of Christ – the forgiveness of sins that he offers to all.

Jesus doesn’t want any part of this false peace. It’s just avoiding conflict, allowing the world to go undisturbed in sin. God decided that it is better to have war and division, saving as many people as possible, rather than let everyone die in their sin. Christ came to remove sin, to offer His righteousness to all. Because of this, he did not shy from confrontation. His whole experience was the opposite of a peaceful, quiet way of life, impacting even His family. At one point, his family tried seizing him. Because of his teaching, they thought he was insane.

If you choose the comfortable path, if you fail to share Christ because you don’t want to deal with the shame and embarrassment that come along with it, you are not worthy to be called a Christian.

Sometimes religion is kept off-limits at family gatherings or other social events so that things stay pleasant. I can’t imagine that is what Jesus had in mind when he was dining with sinners.

But beyond some potentially awkward dinner conversation, Jesus addresses something even more demanding.

He says,“And whoever does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.”

If you’re looking for a nice, comfy, convenient religion, this is not it. If you are not willing to forsake all that is important to you, friends, family, your very life, then you will have no part of eternal life with God.

Christ suffered and died for you and He expects you to follow him, even to death. You might as well consider yourself an enlisted soldier, under the command of another. Following Christ is like going to battle. It can be lethal.

“Take up your cross” had very specific, revolting, and terrifying connotations for the people of Gallilee in Jesus’ Day.

Not only was crucifixion the cruelest form of execution, but it was the ultimate shame if a member of your family was crucified. The public disgrace and physical suffering began not just when the condemned man was hung on the cross, but with the procession through the streets in which the victim was forced carry the heavy cross-piece while enduring the insults of the crowd on the way to execution.

Jesus himself would literally go through that experience of a savage death and public disgrace. In Matthew 10 this is the prospect that he holds before any “worthy” disciple.

The familiar language of discipleship – come follow after me – takes on the morbid sense of following Jesus on the march to execution.

Will you be called on to suffer physically for the sake of Christ? Not likely. But he cross is whatever Christians suffer for living their Christian faith in the world; confessing the gospel of Christ crucified. Whoever refuses or is unwilling to bear this cross, can no longer claim to be a Christian.

The cross is our life as Christians, and guess what, Jesus wants us to be happy about it. He says in Matthew 5 “Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”

“Rejoice and be glad!”

This is just what the apostles in Acts 5. They were beaten and left “rejoicing that they were counted worthy to suffer dishonor for the name of Jesus”

In Acts 16, Paul and Silas were beaten with rods and thrown into prison where their feet were put in stocks and at midnight hey “were praying and singing hymns to God”

What do you do after being attacked and imprisoned for being a Christian? You sing “A Mighty Fortress”, “And take they our life, Goods, fame, child ,and wife, Though these all be gone. Our vict’ry has been won. The Kingdom ours remaineth.”
“The Kingdom ours remaineth.” That’s why Christians throughout the ages have given up a comfortable, quiet life with friends and family in service to their Savior, willing to suffer loss of life and limb.

Jesus says ‘Rejoice and be glad,” - because your reward is great is heaven!

What is this reward? Eternal life. How do we receive the reward? We receive it because Christ has come to us and identified with us. Whoever receives Christ’s messengers and the Word they bring, receives Christ and also receives the reward of a righteous person as it says in verses 40-42.

By believing the word preached to you, Christ identifies with you though faith. As Paul says in Romans 10, “Faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the Word of God.” Christ unites with you with His Righteousness. His victory over sin, death and the devil that he won by his death on the cross is your victory. In Christ, you find your reward - eternal life.

But it’s tough. If we don’t love Christ more than family, if we don’t bear our cross enduring shame, suffering, and abuse for Christ then we are not worthy of him.

Well, we aren’t worthy. Like John the Baptist, we aren’t worthy to even unloose Jesus’ sandals. Like the Prodigal Son, we aren’t worthy to be called son by our Father in heaven.
What we are worthy of, is death, because we’re sinners.
But Jesus - whom Pilate confessed did nothing worthy of death - died on our behalf, so that we would be counted worthy in the Father’s eyes. And now because of Christ and the cross, we are counted worthy to bear our cross and to suffer for that name. But with Paul, we confess that the suffering of this present time is not worthy to be compared to the glory that shall be revealed in us.

That glory will be revealed on that great and final day when we sing “Worthy is Christ, the lamb who was slain, whose blood set us free to be the people of God, Power and riches wisdom and strength glory and honor and blessing are his.”

What a day.

Though we enter into the kingdom through much tribulation as it says in Acts 14, we do indeed enter into the kingdom. The assurance of eternal glory makes us able to bear the cross.

We look to the eternal unseen things, in spite of affliction, in spite of the worst the world has to throw at us. Eternal life is yours right now because of the cross of Christ our Lord. Amen.

A blessed belated Holy Trinity Sunday

This about sums up the Trinity:

O, the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out! For who hath known the mind of the Lord? Or who hath been his counsellor? Or who hath first given to him, and it shall be recompensed unto him again? For of him, and through him, and to him, are all things: to whom be glory for ever. Amen.

Romans 11

Vicar Darren Harbaugh

Big Y You

If you write things about God, it is inevitable that the spell checker will not understand your capital letter, big "Y" "You". As in "May Your name be glorified."

At some point, folks thought they'd show reverence to God, even in regard to pronouns - You, His, etc. I'm sure it was the good old King James Version that popularized it. Maybe it was rooted in 'The Name' business of the Jews - Don't say Yahweh's name and all that. Who knows.

I'm again learning to love the King James ("Authorized Version") on this its 400th anniversary. The KJV causes me to slow down and consider the text rather than breezing through it with all its 'Thees' and 'Thous.' I think the KJV, really outshines than any other version in its oral presentation of the word. When I die, I want Psalm 23 read at my funeral - in the KJV.

And it's got saying power. The third version of the NIV (first released in 1984) came out this year.

But best of all, I think the KJV still retains in its pages bit more of the majesty and awe of God. Reverence. Maybe its just because the Thees and Thous sound more like the Bible. Fine, I'll grant that.

However you slice it, reverence is not all that popular today. From the way we dress, to how we speak, to how we think - publicly and privately. Reverence is more or less considered old-fashioned. Like pews and organs and hymnals and the KJV. Maybe they are old-fashioned. I like old-fashioned donuts though. They are quite tasty. I like Wrigley Field. That's pretty old-fashioned. It's even been referred to as a baseball cathedral, and not in a pejorative manner. People say that Wrigley is a shrine, that it fills them with awe and reverence. And it's only a 1/4 the age of the KJV, 1/20th the age of the Christian church, and, well, I guess I can't put a fraction to it in comparison to the Ageless One, but you get the idea.

Some things seem ageless, but only One is. The KJV may not be ageless, but at least it still evokes reverence in my mind. Even in its pronouns.

"Jesus, here I share Your woe; help me there Your joy to know."

This is a verse from the hymn" Let us ever walk with Jesus." I like it.

Let us suffer here with Jesus, and with patience bear our cross.
Joy will follow all our sadness; where He is, there is no loss.
Though today we sow no laughter, we shall reap celestial joy;
All discomforts that annoy shall give way to mirth here-after.
Jesus, here I share Your woe; help me there Your joy to know.

Augustine's words

I liked this. Not much more to say. Merry Christmas!

Then I sought a way of obtaining strength sufficient to enjoy Thee; and found it not, until I embraced that Mediator betwixt God and men, the Man Christ Jesus, who is over all, God blessed for evermore, calling unto me, and saying, I am the way, the truth, and the life, and mingling that food which I was unable to receive, with our flesh.
For, the Word was made flesh, that Thy wisdom, whereby Thou createdst all things, might provide milk for our infant state. For I did not hold to my Lord Jesus Christ, I, humbled, to the Humble; nor knew I yet whereto His infirmity would guide us. For Thy Word, the Eternal Truth, far above the higher parts of Thy Creation, raises up the subdued unto Itself: but in this lower world built for Itself a lowly habitation of our clay, whereby to abase from themselves such as would be subdued, and bring them over to Himself; allaying their swelling, and tomenting their love; to the end they might go on no further in self-confidence, but rather consent to become weak, seeing before their feet the Divinity weak by taking our coats of skin; and wearied, might cast themselves down upon It, and It rising, might lift them up.

Augustine, confessions 7.18

I am a skunk.

I live in a busy area. To the left is one of the busiest intersections in town - St Francis Circle. To the right is one of the busiest intersections in town - 19th Ave (AKA Hwy 1. You can turn left going southbound!) and Sloat. There are always rumbling tractor trailers, screeching tires, and reeving motors serenading us just out side the window. It's fine. It's city noise. Everybody needs to get somewhere.

But this morning when I stepped out to to go work, there were two skunks looking at me, right in front of the door.

I was struck my a number of things. First, that such creatures exist. Aren't skunks only in cartoons? Second, that they existed in front of my house. They had fur and were not wearing a collar. Third, that they could afflict me with their superpower of smell. What would I do? I would smell. Bad. Forever. Forth, that I looked just like them. They were black and white. I was black and white. Their white stripe was across their back. Mine was around my neck. I am a skunk.

I think my doppelgangers recognized our similarity in appearance and regarded it fondly because the left me alone and wandered off. I don't know if they considered me one of their own, or just had other things to do. Probably the latter. Everybody is busy it seems. Even skunks.

Geese, God and the American people

Garrison Keillor once wrote, "It is more worthy in the eyes of God and better for us as a people if a writer make three pages sharp and funny about the lives of geese than to make three hundred fat and flabby about God or the American people."

I will try, as I always do, to continue writing fat and flabby words about geese, God and the American people.

-

I think this is a great modern paraphrase of the Magnificat. Particularly Luke 1:53: "He has filled the hungry with good things"

Also perhaps a fulfillment of the beatitudes, Luke 6:21: "Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you shall be satisfied."


Or maybe this is a case of Things being filled with good hungry.

(link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Os-CACRwM8)

Healthy. Wealthy. Wise.

I wish I could be an early riser.

Part of me idealizes waking up at the break of dawn, getting the morning paper, a cup of joe and enjoying the stillness before the day comes to life.

I like twilight (small “t”) – dusk and dawn. I’m seen a fair share more dusks in my day though. It’s that time when things don’t look quite like they are supposed to look or at least how you remember them looking during the day (or night).

I remember playing catch with my dad and I was not quite so fond of dusk then. I’d want to keep playing until my nose was in danger of being broken by a rapidly-advancing baseball that blended perfectly with the quickly-graying night sky.

I originally had a Lou Whitaker autograph model mitt, followed by a Bo Jackson model that was replaced by a non-autograph model in high school which I then lost while at college. But then my buddy Melvin gave me a mitt he found in the bathroom at Dodger Stadium.

With this new mitt, I joined the baseball team (The Preachers) while at seminary. It served me well at second base. I felt much less afraid in my fielding this time around than I did 10 years prior.

In manning the keystone for the Preachers, I had my first opportunity to play under the lights. I felt like a big leaguer. But I also felt sad. Because Baseball felt sad. I don’t think it’s a game that is meant to thrive at night. It does. And it does it well, but it knows that it is just moon lighting. Baseball is meant for the afternoon, but even so, a day game is a relic. It exists as a once-a-week token Sunday matinee, with an occasional weekday game. But it’s a shadow of the past. Like the Sunday drive in the country. Like reading the newspaper early in the morning with a cup of Joe. Maybe it’s all just good in theory, but not in practice. Gotta watch out for those things. There’s a lot of them.

Bonhoeffer wrote something about how it’s not natural for man to be up at night, living his life illuminated by the glow of a florescent tube; his internal clock determined by an artificial time schedule. He actually wrote none of those words. That is just how I remember what he said. And I’ll leave it at that. Good night. See you in the morning.

Yosemite

I went to Yosemite. Beautiful. Sunshine, waterfalls, rock faces and such. Last time I was there I couldn't see anything. It was completely snowed out. Spent the night sleeping in my car parked in a snow-filled campsite, frightened that keeping the heater on would attract bears. Keith and I reclined our seats and slept ok. Can't say the same for the one scrunched up in the back seat (Sorry, Amber!). That was over 12 years ago. Twelve years from now my child will be finishing 7th grade. I'll let you know how all that turns out.

My favorite part of the trip was a conversation I overheard in the bathroom between a Dad and his 10 year-old-ish son.
"Dad, what is your favorite beer?"
"Maybe Anchor Steam. Maybe Sierra Nevada...It all depends on the day though"
"You like Pacifico too."
"That is true."

Simple. But I appreciate a Father teaching his child such wisdom at a young age. A beer is not just a beer, but is indeed intertwined with the essence of the day. It often takes until 6 or 7 PM - fully experiencing a day - to properly choose the right beer for that specific occasion.

Later that day I drank a PBR while surfing barefoot down Upper Yosemite Falls. I don't know what that says about my day. At least I avoided snow. And being eaten by a bear.