Instructions for the Journey

Matthew 10:24-39

Late last summer, I saw the movie “Hacksaw Ridge” for the first time. The movie tells the story of a young man, Desmond T. Doss, who served as an army medic during World War II, and specifically during the Battle of Okinawa. Before the war broke out, Doss was for the most part a happy-go-lucky kind of guy. Raised as a Seventh-Day Adventist, his faith was very important to him, and that, together with some early life experiences, led him to make a decision to live his life as a pacifist. He didn’t have a great deal of education – his family was too poor for that, but Doss did have an interest in medicine.

Then World War II broke out and Doss felt called to serve his country. As a pacifist, you can imagine the dilemma this created for the young man. Added to the tension, was his relationship with his father, who himself had served during World War I, and today would likely be diagnosed as having PTSD – his action during World War I left him scarred for the rest of his life, and his family bore the brunt of his war-induced mental illness.

The elder Doss was vehemently opposed to his sons serving in the war. Going against his father’s will created huge conflict and ultimately a schism between them. But the young Doss made up his mind. He had it all figured out. He liked medicine; he would serve his country as a medic. He couldn’t bear arms, but he could still serve, and he seemed to have an understanding with his recruiter that that would be exactly as things would go. But of course, they didn’t.

No sooner had Doss arrived as boot camp than he ran into problems with his drill sergeant and his fellow soldiers over his decision and refusal not to bear arms. He excelled physically but became an outcast in his unit for his refusal to handle a rifle or drill on Saturdays – his Sabbath. He was assigned physically grueling labor. An attempt on the part of his superiors to have him discharged for psychiatric reasons failed, and one night he is pretty badly beaten up by some of his fellow soldiers.  Still, he resists going against what his faith – and the Scriptures – had taught him.

He ultimately completed basic training but was then arrested and court martialed for insubordination. He refused to relent. He would not bear arms, could not go against biblical teachings nor his conscience. All he wanted was to serve as a medic, come what may. Finally, his father barged into the military tribunal bearing a letter from a former commanding officer of his, pointing out that pacifism is protected by an Act of Congress.

The charges were dropped, and Doss was assigned to the 77^th Infantry Division, deployed to the Pacific theater, which is how he ended up at the Battle of Okinawa, where through his actions, he saved the lives of 75 men and earned Medal of Honor, the first conscientious objector to ever earn that coveted award.

Being a disciple of Jesus Christ is not easy. You and I might never have to make the kinds of choices and decisions that Desmond Doss did, but I think that looking at this morning’s gospel text through the lens of Doss’ story might help us to understand what Jesus is telling his disciples about the cost and meaning of the mission in his name.

In this chapter from the Gospel of Matthew Jesus, in fact, has very pointed advice for his disciples, and his words help draw a picture of the cost of Christian mission and ministry. The picture isn’t all that pretty.  Jesus paints a picture of discipleship that is more than just a little off-putting.

The Gospel text we heard this morning is a continuation of what is referred to as the mission discourse, or “Sermon on Mission.” It was being delivered to a people who were persecuted, who were needing to make tough choices about what following Jesus means, who were experiencing opposition and divisions among families and friends, and the cost of being disciples.

Last week our gospel contained the words of Jesus that come just before these: “See, I am sending you out like sheep into the midst of wolves; so be wise as serpents and innocent as doves. ¹⁷Beware of them, for they will hand you over to councils and flog you in their synagogues; ¹⁸and you will be dragged before governors and kings because of me…..  ²¹Brother will betray brother to death, and a father his child, and children will rise against parents and have them put to death; ²²and you will be hated by all because of my name….”

As this Sermon continues today, Jesus says, “Do not think that I have come to bring peace on earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword. For 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 one’s foes will be members of one own household.”

Between last week’s text and this week’s, the Sermon on Mission has moved from the sources of mission (Jesus’ compassion, praying disciples, spiritual gifts, and church fellowship) through Jesus’ travel instructions (travel light- “Take no gold, or silver, or copper in your belts, ¹⁰no bag for your journey, or two tunics, or sandals, or a staff”), and now move on to the “trouble instructions” which basically, boil down to: “expect the worst”. Finally, we come to Jesus’ “trust” instructions - believe in me, acknowledge me

, and love me.

With all these instructions, Jesus seeks to bind the disciples to himself. He wants them to remember their bond with him, and to honor their relationship with Jesus and their identity as his disciples even and especially in the midst of the hardship and suffering they will surely face, as they serve this mission and ministry in his name.

“So, what does it mean to be a disciple of Christ?”

Bible commentator Frederick Dale Bruner puts it this way: “Jesus comes crashing into history, and then into our lives, and takes over, preempting our most instinctive loyalties, presuming on our deepest affections, usurping our natural ties, and asking (and so claiming) to be the most important person in our lives.”

Jesus knows that for the mission to be served well, the whole lives of his disciples must be marked by our relationship with him, by loyalty to him and that they be consistent with his own cross-shaped life, where the decisions we make, the interactions we have, and our every choice be made with God’s mission in the forefront of our actions.

Jesus knows well how difficult this journey will be and he isn’t pulling any punches. To follow Jesus is to cause the same kind of trouble Jesus caused, because Jesus’ way is countercultural. Absolute adherence to the ways and commands of Jesus are what Jesus demands from his disciples. Anything less brings destruction and chaos.

The thing is, Jesus knows that we like our comfortable little lives. We strive to make a “good life for ourselves” – for most of us, that kind of comfort and security is our ultimate goal and priority in life. Our lives include the relationships we have with family and friends. They include attaining and maintaining a certain status, perhaps living in the best neighborhood we can afford, to have the best things in our homes, to make the best connections in our community, all those things that go into making our lives pleasurable and secure. Given a choice we will choose the “easy way” of things.

And so, Jesus says, “Do not think that I have come to bring peace on earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.”

Jesus isn’t advocating violence here. These words have been misinterpreted in that way over the centuries. Rather, the peace that Jesus is here to disrupt and even tear apart is the “peace” of the status quo – the “peace” of self-sufficiency; the “peace” that allows tyrants to oppress and persecute those with little power; the “peace” of keeping about our neat little lives safe and secure while scores of people face death, disease, hunger, abuses and persecution.

The sword of Jesus is meant to cleave us from our complacency, our blindness to the inequality happening all around us, or our adherence to earthly values, idols, even those relationships that keep us from being wholly centered on Jesus and on the mission he sets us forth to serve.

Jesus says to us, “You know what? If your life passion is to “make it” you will be lost. If security is what you are after, your search will only lead to your destruction.”

We hear those words and realize that really, truly, this Jesus is trouble.

So central is trouble to the Christian mission that Jesus says that his purpose in coming to earth was division. Jesus will bind disciples to himself in faith and then move them out into life to love people on the edge, but the historic consequences of faith and love have always been as much persecution as reconciliation. A few will believe the truth of Christ, but most will oppose it. Jesus shoots from the hip here. This is as true today as it was in Jesus’ time.

Jesus is not triumphalist about the future of Christian mission; he knows that his mission is a rugged minority movement, a tough, divisive affair, and he prefers to make this clear rather than to give false hope. “The gate is wide and the way pleasant that leads to destruction, and many people [a majority] go this route; but the gate is narrow and the way tough that leads to real life, and very few people find this way.”

            Yet in the midst of all this sobering news, there is gospel good news for us as well. In the midst of this passage Jesus tells us, “Do not be afraid.”  These words for us are both challenge and promise. God will always be with you. God does not leave us alone to face this battle, but with the kind of care and love that knows and counts each hair on our heads, the Lord God will strengthen, supply, and keep us in steadfast love. Jesus encourages his followers to step out into the light and tell the truth about their lives – a truth that is seen as healing, as life-giving, as witness to the goodness of God who cares for the little sparrow, the faithful soldier, the struggling, disciple, and all those who cling to Jesus and to his Way.

            Jesus tells us that in losing our life we will find it. Paul reminds us in baptism we died to sin, and we were buried with Jesus in death, that we might arise and walk in newness of life. As disciples of Christ, we follow in the footsteps of Jesus, going without fear, knowing that though this new life, the life of discipleship might be costly, by his death and resurrection, Jesus has already made us alive to God, counted, treasured, accompanied and restored, for the sake of the kingdom of God.

Amen.

An Unlikely Response to Fear

          I don’t know about you, but the first time I read through these lessons, (Jeremiah 10:7-13; Psalm 67:7-18; Romans 6:1b-11, Matthew 10:24-39) there was one overwhelming reaction that I had to them – despair. These, my friends, are tough readings! In fact, I have to tell you, my first thought was, what a good week this would have been to have brought in a guest preacher. How to address these challenging texts?

But then, I kept coming back to them, and I was reminded how God’s promise and encouragement seep through the words of even the most challenging texts. Isn’t it just like God to challenge and teach us through this living Word of God.

In the gospel text today we read about some of the challenges and threats that may afflict Jesus’ disciples. Following Christ is risky. As Jesus points out, all kinds of distractions and dangers await. Discipleship sometimes, though not always, feels like a one step forward, two steps back kind of proposition. It takes vision, trust and courage to be a disciple of Christ. It takes endurance.

Three times in this short gospel passage, Jesus says, “do not be afraid.” That is the dominant message here. Do not be afraid. No matter what fate awaits those who follow Jesus’ call to follow him, to witness and serve in his name, Jesus’ compassionate, persistent message is, “have no fear.” Jesus knows the power of fear. Jesus knows how squeamish fear can make even the most faithful and devoted of Jesus’ followers.

We, too, are well acquainted with the power of fear, because it affects all of us at various times and in the various spheres of our lives. Let’s face it: Fear drives our economy, fear can and often does impact and influence our political process – just think of the headlines and political claims that dominate every news cycle during election years, for example – so many of them, driven. by. fear.

There are times when we might fear for our loved ones, or for our jobs. We might fear for our health or for changes taking place in our lives; we fear where the future will lead. We might fear the rise of crime in the streets and in our schools. We fear that war will never truly cease.

The problem with fear is that it cripples those caught in its crosshairs. Fear can silence us even when we know we should speak. It causes stress and stress affects us physically, emotionally and spiritually. Fear keeps some of us from sleeping well at night, adversely affects our focus, and can overtake our decision-making and limit our creative processes.

A few years ago, after I had been taking voice lessons for a year or so, I was scheduled to sing a beautiful song from the Messiah called “Come Unto Him” during our church’s annual Advent Lessons and Carols program. I had been singing and preparing this song for months, and I knew it better than I knew about any other song or hymn in my repertoire. It was, however, the first time I had really sung a solo in a program like this, in many, many years.

The afternoon arrived for the service. Rehearsals went smoothly. In fact, in rehearsal, my solo went beautifully - better than it had ever gone before, my voice strong and clear, those high notes perfectly in tune. Following the rehearsal and before the service, we shared a wonderful potluck meal, and then it was time for Lessons and Carols to begin.

As I sat with the choir waiting to sing my solo, though, nerves began to set in. My heart started to race and pound. My breathing changed. I felt all sweaty and overheated. Fear began to overwhelm me. When I finally got up to sing, I took a deep breath, opened my mouth - and barely a sound came forth.

I wish I could say that soon, the prayers I was desperately praying for my voice to immediately come unto me, worked and suddenly my voice was healed and restored, but no. That is not the case. Instead, it felt like a heavy damp cloth had been thrown over my vocal cords. I tried to push, to sing through the restriction, but nothing worked. It’s possible that something I ate or drank during the meal affected my vocal cords, but I doubt that was it. I think it was fear that took my voice away.

That’s how fear works. It might cause our heart to pound and even to beat faster, but it also constricts blood vessels, so the work of our heart becomes less effective. Fear makes us uncomfortable, it makes our breath hitch as classic “fight or flight” physical changes and reactions overtake us. Suddenly our ability to think, to act, to problem solve all vanish. Fear makes our voice change and shake, and sometimes, it mutes them.

Such paralyzing fear can steal our joy and be the death of discipleship.

What is it that drives our fear and keep us from participating fully in the God’s mission? How might fear mute our proclamation of the good news of mercy and grace that we experience at the hand of God; what makes our hearts beat ineffectively? What keeps us from shouting from the rooftops, the wonder of God’s creative and redeeming love? Does fear limit our capacity to embrace, and to fully follow the cross of Christ?

For many of us the fear of conflict or the risk of judgment can stifle our voices. Gone are the days of a Christian society that supports church activity and involvement. Gone is the cultural support for claiming allegiance to church institutions or to the gospel of Jesus Christ. Gone is the societal practice of honoring adherence to religious activity or worship.

Instead, external demands on our time – and our many and varied commitments may make it feel risky to place priority in time consuming religious activity, and even riskier to testify to our faith experience and beliefs. Jesus reminds us that adherence to the gospel and following in Christ’s footsteps will not always be easy.

In our gospel text today, Jesus acknowledges the power of fear. He acknowledges that faithful proclamation and practice of the gospel will put the disciples on a collision course with the powers of this world. Jesus acknowledges that those fears are not unfounded but are very, very real - And yet, Jesus says, “do not be afraid.”

Seems like a contradiction, doesn’t it?

And yet, my brothers and sisters in Christ: this phrase, “do not fear, do not be afraid”, is a characteristic hallmark of Good News throughout Scripture, in one form or another appearing some 365 times. Anytime a messenger of God begins a message with the words “Do not fear” you can be sure that good news is about to come…but you also know that there’s a reason you’re being told not to fear in the first place: the messenger knows that, all things being equal, fear is warranted here. So, 365 times throughout the scriptures – the equivalent of one time per day each day of the year, God sends this message – do not be afraid. Even though it is more than likely that on any given day, 365 days of the year, somewhere, something is happening that would cause any reasonable person to be afraid; still, Jesus encourages his disciples:  “do not fear”… .Rather, fostered by Jesus’ instruction “do not fear” and equipped with the promise “you are of more value than many sparrows” and “I am with you always, to the end of the age”, we are bold to face these challenges, and so many more, not with fear but with excitement and anticipation for the new God can and will bring.

Jesus invites his disciples instead to have courage, and to know that their courage is rooted in God’s promise. For we worship a God of resurrection and life. And if we have died with Christ, we believe that we—and all creation—will also live with him. Jesus went to the cross so that God’s promise of everlasting life, and of new life through baptism would be secured. God’s love has dictated that the kingdom of heaven was inaugurated with the coming of Christ and sealed through his death and resurrection cannot and will not be threatened by any of the powers of the earth. And so, Jesus encourages us, do not be afraid to speak, to follow, to hope, to live this faith – instead, proclaim the gospel “in the light and from the housetops” because this proclamation is the most powerful tool we possess against fear and the powers of the world.

Jesus promises that nothing can take away God’s promise, no one can drive away God’s continuing presence, and nor dim God’s ultimate protection. God alone has power over our body and our spirit. God is present in the world in mercy and compassion and will never leave our sides.

Friends, Paul reminds us in the epistle reading today, “Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so too we might walk in newness of life.” Let us boldly remember, therefore, Jesus’ encouragement, “do not fear” and may God strengthen us to not fear the challenges that surround us, but to enter them with confidence and joy, not on our own accord but on account of Christ who lives within us. Amen.