Please Observe Spiritual Distancing- From Parents and Possessions -9/4/22

Last week you liked my having one word to remember from the sermon. That word was

“abundance.” In that same spirit, I would like to present a word for today, and that word is DETACHMENT. That word is not quite as much fun as “abundance.” But detachment is a good word. It’s certainly a spiritual word. You detach from sin and attach to God. I think that the language of detachment is a way to understand Jesus’ saying about hatred of family in this passage. He says that a disciple must HATE father and mother, wife and children, and even one’s own life. And then the lesson ends with Jesus saying that a disciple must give up all one’s possessions. We don’t want to hate our family members. Sure, they get on our nerves every once

in a while, and they can be annoying as heck. But HATE?! Maybe “detach” is better. After all, that’s what Jesus and his followers had done, that had detached themselves from their families in order to attach themselves to Jesus and his traveling band. Jesus and his disciples were an itinerant group traveling around Palestine preaching the rule of God. They had detached themselves from people and possessions. Simon Peter and James and John had given up everything to follow Jesus (5:11; 18:28). In other words, they had left their families and whatever possessions they had they donated to a common purse, and wealthy women such as Mary Magdalene and others provided for them from their resources. Women, then, were supporting Jesus and other men in their ministry as they went from village to village. Such a situation is quite different from our situation now. We are settled in one place, and the church is an institution to which we contribute but we do not give it all our money. I remember several years ago hearing about a new tax form, the 1040QED. On one line it said, “How much did you make the previous year?” And on the second line it said, “Send it in.” Fortunately most tax forms are not like that nor are most church giving records. We don’t give up all our possessions, we don’t live in an intentional community apart from our families, and we don’t travel around the countryside, provided by others. But that’s what Jesus and his early disciples did. They detached and reattached.

In our scripture lesson Jesus is speaking to a large crowd traveling with him. Apparently, there were two different groups following Jesus: There were the disciples and women supporting them, and then there were the crowds. The disciples had given up everything; the crowds were just along for the ride. So Jesus turns to the crowds and says these words about hating one’s family members and even one’s own life. In the parallel in Matthew, Jesus says, “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” (10:37). “Loving less” sounds a lot better than “hating.” I think that Jesus originally said “hate” and Matthew softened it to “love less.” But exactly what is Jesus saying when he speaks about “hate”? For us, “love” and “hate” have a lot of emotional content.

You might say, I love chocolate ice cream, or I love jazz music, or I love my partner. That means that chocolate ice cream or jazz or your partner bring you a lot of satisfaction; they make you happy.

Love and hate did not have those kinds of emotions attached to them in the ancient world. When Jesus said to love God and your neighbor, he was not talking about how happy God and neighbor made people feel. Rather, he was talking about people being loyal to God and to the neighbor. Love is loyalty, being in covenant with another, whether that other be God or one’s neighbor. In other words, love is attachment. We are attached to God, to one another, and to the neighbor. Hate on the other hand is detachment. Jesus is telling the crowds following him that they need to detach from family in order to attach to him and his traveling band. Detach, attach. Detach from family, attach to God and the God movement.

Jesus also uses the stark, violent image of the cross to speak of this detachment. For us, the cross is beautiful jewelry. We wear it around our neck, and we hoist them on top of our steeples. I remember when I was teaching college religion classes in the Midwest back in the 80s. One young woman would come into class, and she would flip from underneath her shirt her golden cross on a chain. I do not remember if brandishing the cross got this woman good grades or not. It seems that the cross is often considered this sacred object that has power in and of itself. I’ve certainly seen old movies in which a minister uses the cross to ward off evil spirits. I was in a Target recently. It may have been in CT or MD or RI. They all look alike. And I noted that the clerk had crosses on her earlobes. I mentioned it, and she said, Oh, they often get turned upside down. I don’t want that; it’s the symbol of the antichrist. I said, Peter was crucified upside down because he did not think that he was worthy to be crucified like his Lord. I’m not so sure about an upside-down cross being a symbol of the antichrist.

For Jesus, the cross was the ultimate symbol of detachment. It was the emblem of torture and execution by the Roman state. Roman crucified rebels, and that is the way that Jesus met his fate. Jesus spoke twice about the cross in Luke. The first time he had just asked his disciples who people were saying he was, and some said John the Baptist or Elijah. Jesus then asked them, “Who do you say that I am?” (9:20). And Peter puffed out his chest and said, “You’re the Anointed One of God” (9:20b). Instead of saying “Attaboy, Peter.” Jesus told them not to tell anybody and predicted his own suffering. Jesus went on to say, “If any you folk want to become my followers”—but weren’t they already Jesus’ followers?—you’ve gotta deny yourselves, take up your cross everyday—every day—and follow me” (9:23). Jesus essentially repeats himself in our passage: “Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple” (14:27). But what if we carry the cross on our lapel or around our neck? Isn’t that OK, Jesus? Doesn’t that get it? Nope, it doesn’t. The cross is the symbol of detachment. It’s not something you wear around your neck. It’s something you carry within your heart. Now wearing it on your lapel or around your neck might help you remember the cross in your life, and so I have nothing against wearing a cross. But Jesus is talking not about wearing a cross but bearing a cross. Carrying a cross. And that’s detachment, friends, it’s detachment from the things of this world. And attachment to the One who bore the cross, the one who speaks of liberation for the poor and recovery of sight to the blind. The cross is detachment from life as we know it and reattachment to the One who gives life, Jesus of Nazareth and the God he serves.

Yesterday I had signed up for a free online lecture by mystic Mirabai Starr. It was

scheduled at 1pm Eastern Daylight Time. The lecture was entitled, “Navigating Your Divine Meltdown.” My computer apparently had a meltdown because I could not get the lecture online. I did not have a divine or human meltdown because I had not paid any money for this lecture, and I realized that technology is touchy. So instead of the free lecture, I watched a few short YouTube videos of Starr, and that was sufficient. She has translated the works of 16 century mystics Teresa Avila and John of the Cross, and she read from some of those in the videos I watched. One thing that particularly struck me is that she said, “We must abandon the self-improvement project.” Abandon the self-improvement project. I like growth, self-improvement, getting better and better every day. Abandon it? But yes, Starr was right, the way of the cross is to abandon the self-improvement project and embrace surrender to God in Christ. During the transition, we want this church to get better and better; we want it to improve and to grow. We want there to be more people here; we want there to be more money in the offering plates. In many ways, I want the same things. I want this church to transition to be a stronger organization. But more than that, I want this church to be even more faithful than it has been. And please understand I am not saying that the church has been faithless or less than faithful up to this point. I am still learning about the church and its history. And what I know is that this church has been faithful. But God is calling it to greater faithfulness, to greater detachment and reattachment, to greater cross-bearing.

Sometimes it happens in churches—I’m sure it doesn’t happen here, but it does in other places I’ve served and observed—there is a culture of complaint. “Oh, ain’t it awful. We don’t have a settled pastor, and people just don’t come like they did, and they don’t give like they did. Ain’t it awful!” God is calling us to detach from that kind of thinking. Not “Aint it awful?” but “Ain’t it awesome?” “Ain’t it abundant?” “Ain’t it amazing?” (And if you don’t like the bad grammar, you can say, “Isn’t it awesome and abundant and amazing?” Yes it is.) Christ is calling us to move from a culture of complaint to a culture of cross-bearing. We take up the cross daily and follow Jesus. We detach from constantly complaining to continually believing, continually imagining, continually growing together in God’s love. So, it’s detach and reattach. Jesus concludes this lesson with these difficult words: “So therefore, none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions” (14:33). I’m not a very good disciple because I have not given up all my possessions like Jesus and his first followers did. But not everybody in the Gospel of Luke who is aligned with Jesus gives up their possessions. Mary and Martha, for example, live in a house, where Martha cooks for Jesus, and Mary listens to his teaching (10:38-42). And Jesus heals ten lepers, and he tells them to go show themselves to the priests, and the one who comes back to thank Jesus he tells to go on his way (17:11-19). And Jesus heals a man of a legion of demons, and he begs Jesus to go with him, and Jesus tells him to go home and tell everybody what God has done for him (8:26-39). So Jesus doesn’t tell everybody in Luke to give up everything and follow him, but he does call them to carry the cross where they are and detach themselves from the voices of the world that say that they are worthless and don’t amount to anything. Jesus pronounces them blessed.

And Jesus pronounces us blessed too here at First Baptist Church, East Greenwich, FBCEG. We are disciples, carrying the cross, detaching ourselves from messages that we might have received from our families that we are not good enough. God has not called us to be successful; God has called us to be faithful. Did you hear that? God has not called us to be successful but to be faithful. It seems that everywhere I’ve served, there are people that compare their church to the megachurch down the road. That church has two thousand, three thousand members and seventeen services and millions and billions dollar budget. Why can’t we be more like them? God does not compare churches. I do not yet know the megachurches here in Rhode Island. I googled “megachurches near me,” and the first church that came up was First Baptist Church of North Kingstown, which is right next door to me. I am living in the parsonage of FBCNK. Let me tell you it is not a megachurch. I was over there for their hymn sing and ice cream social last Sunday night, and they had good attendance for this annual event, good ice cream, good singing, but it wasn’t a megachurch. You can tell me where the megachurches are here in the state. I’m sure they’re here. My elder daughter Anastasia lives in Houston, TX, not too far from Lakewood Church, pastored by Joel Osteen, which has a weekly attendance of 45,000. That’s a megachurch, friends. But God does not judge you against Lakewood. God doesn’t even judge you against First Baptist of North Kingstown. God only judges you against what God has for you, God’s mission for FBCEG, God’s gift, God’s grace, God’s calling. Let us detach from our superficial concerns about what this church “should” be and reattach to what God is calling this church to be. For that, God gives grace.

In a few minutes, we will celebrate communion, the Lord’s Supper. Families have meals, and this is ours. We’ll detach from other commitments and attach ourselves to Christ, who carried the cross. We follow him. We love him. We share in his supper, his snack. One seminary professor called it the Lord’s snack. It is called by many names: communion, Lord’s Supper. The meal. Roman Catholics speak of it as the eucharist, which literally means “thanksgiving meal.” Whether you say communion or Lords’ Supper or eucharist, it is a family meal in which we share love, share hope, share peace, share joy. These are the values that we attach to here on this first Sunday of September. We detach from the negative and attach to the positive.

I conclude with my favorite poem, which happened to be about communion. It is “Love After Love” by the late Afro-Caribbean poet Derek Walcott:

The time will come

when, with elation

you will greet yourself arriving

at your own door, in your own mirror

and each will smile at the other’s welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.

You will love again the stranger who was your self.

Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart

to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored

for another, who knows you by heart.

Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,

peel your own image from the mirror.

Sit. Feast on your life. [End of poem]

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We feast on our lives, detaching from hate and attaching to love, together in Christ.

And all God’s people said, Amen.