Jeremiah 18:1-11 Psalm 139:1-5, 12-17 Philemon 1-21 Luke 14:25-33

If ever there is a group that is in tune to the cost of discipleship, it is this group.  Our presence here is enough in itself to affirm our discernment of the cost of discipleship.

Something I strive to do at least once whenever I visit Chanco is to walk down to the waterfront.  The climb is steep.  Going down, one must be very careful not to slip on the rocks.  Climbing back up gives you a real sense of your physical stamina.  Was it this steep going down?

So, I made this journey yesterday.  The scene on the river was different than usual.  A seasoned coast lander recognizes the evidence of a recent violent storm:  washed away areas of shoreline; the river littered with the residue of the churned-up riverbed and flooded banks – rotten logs and battered pieces of decking riding the tide; a diverse assortment along the sand – a thermos cap, a candle, a chunk of vinyl siding residing as if natural amongst the driftwood and sea grasses.  It’s trashy and ugly and disrupts my sought-after tranquility.  Where did it come from and why is it here?  And, the river laps on the bank with greater force – bang, splash, bang, splash, bang, splash – from an imperceptible source.  It is like heavy breathing after my walk up the hill –

IN—HALE…EX—HALE

The river bearing the cost of the storm.

The tides will ebb and flow; the debris will bury itself once again in the mucky bottom; peace will come again to the river surface.

Jesus said, “Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple.  Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.”

Is our presence here a sign that we hate our families?

Eugene Peterson’s contemporary translation in The Message seems to get the meaning of our text, at least somewhat, more accurately, than our traditional New Revised Standard Version: “Anyone who comes to me but refuses to let go of father, mother, spouse, children, brothers, sisters – yes, even one’s own self! – can’t be my disciple.  Anyone who won’t shoulder his own cross and follow behind me can’t be my disciple.” [Luke 14:25-27].  You see, the choice is ours.

This interpretation does soften the tone a bit.  But, without doubt, Jesus is not mincing words about the cost of discipleship.  Jesus speaks to us of the most treasured of our beloved human relationships, and he says to us in no uncertain terms, that our love and commitment to Him must be even greater and stronger than our love and commitment to beloved family members; the cost of true discipleship is unmatched by the cost associated with any human earthly relationship that we can imagine.  This cost is exceeded only by its reward.

Jesus’ message is that we have to go all the way; we have to follow him to Jerusalem and we have to stand in the shadow of the Cross; we have to shoulder that cross; we cannot hold back, waiting in safety outside the city walls.  The violent storm of discipleship churns us and tosses our divergent pile of debris upon the shore.  We cannot hold back in our responsibility to bear that cross – to carry the Gospel message to the world; we cannot hold back in the ministry to which he is calling each of us – even when it gets trashy and ugly.

We likely will not be bludgeoned by a fuller’s club, or crucified upside down, or sawn in two, but we do understand, better than many, the costs of our call to ministry.

The six of you have made the choice; you have said yes; you have discovered that you cannot hold back on the ministry to which you are being called.  You cannot stand outside the city wall, gazing from afar at the Cross; you must shoulder it and move forward.

We, your potential flock, pray for our mindfulness of God’s presence as we cast our votes two weeks from now.  Whatever the outcome, you will be changed; your call to discipleship will be changed.  Far from hating your spouses and other family members, you will love them even more; they are steady companions, not standing in your way out of concern for their needs, but supporting you and nurturing your ministry, united in this call to discipleship to which they, too, are called.  They share with you the weight of that cross.

You will bear the cost just as the river bears the cost of its call to be a river.

Surely, Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s most famous words are, “When Christ calls a man he bids him come and die.”  As Christ calls any of us, He bids us come and die.  Like a seed planted in the earth, we lose all semblance of our old self-absorbed selves as we grow in God ‘s nurturance toward healthy productive disciples.

The earthly cost is great, often severe.  We recognize that each of you – candidate and spouse – is willing to risk that cost on behalf of the people of this diocese – willing to be churned and tossed upon the shore.

As we sing in that beautiful hymn of those humble fisherfolk who laid down their nets to follow Jesus’ call, the reward is the marvelous peace of God.  The river will continue to ebb and flow; your ministry will ebb and flow.  But, for always, you have chosen the way of the cross – the highest joy.

Bishop Walkabouts – Chanco on the James