Epistle: Galatians 5:1, 13-25; Gospel: Luke 9:51-62
During my pre-seminary life, particularly during my time as a Capitol Hill press secretary, one of the tasks that often presented the greatest challenge was speechwriting. Let me rephrase that: one of the most challenging things I ever had to do was write short speeches. The struggle was quite real, especially when given the chance to craft something on a topic for which I had a ton of material in front of me.
Crafting a speech was always a good exercise for me as I worked to figure out which one of the nine opening stories I had on hand would draw the biggest laughs, which 10 points should be focused on to the exclusion of the other 90, and how to be succinct and clear in the message. Often, tough choices had to be made but at the end of the day I can say – for better or worse – that I got quite good at producing amazing 20-minute speeches for 10-minute blocks of time.
Today’s readings present just their own wealth of material to consider, some among the many amazing passages and key points that would make any speechwriter – or preacher – giddy. Before you panic, though, let me put your minds at ease; this will not be another instance of saying, “Why talk for 10 minutes when 20 will do!”
Through today’s reading from Luke we’re allowed to stand witness to moments when Jesus interacts with three strangers and discusses the possibility of their accompanying him on his journey to Jerusalem. We watch as they wrestle with what quickly become some tough choices. Two of them freely asked to go with Jesus, while he approached a third and offered a very simple invitation: Follow me.
He could have picked anyone else; he certainly could have walked by these three without even acknowledging them. But he didn’t. He engaged with them, and they quickly realized the opportunity to journey with Jesus – either through their offer or his invitation – wasn’t something they could do without first wrapping up other business. One had to mourn and tend to the burial of his father. Another wanted to take time to say goodbye to friends and family before setting off. However, what they felt was necessary to accomplish at that moment was in fact just a distraction from a role they were being invited to play on a much larger stage.
What they were feeling here, in these moments with Jesus, were the demands of discipleship – not simply a one-and-done moment of saying yes but something that required a lifetime of conversion, of saying yes to God repeatedly. They had determination; they wouldn’t have entertained the possibility of a life of discipleship if they weren’t determined. But their determination only went so far.
To paraphrase Galatians, Jesus was calling them to a life of freedom, to travel with him as he proclaimed God’s message on the way to Jerusalem. But they did something that’s common to many of those he encountered during his ministry: they focused on their own immediate needs and not the needs of the wider world. From what we read, they really wanted to go but as the short-sighted people they were, the very type of person for whom Jesus seems to have a particular affinity, they squandered these moments of divine invitation and greater possibilities on what was right in front of them. One was told the life he would lead would not be one of comfort. Another wanted to honor his father. The third – to borrow a popular phrase – flip-flopped, wanting to go but not wanting to let go.
Why was it so easy for someone like Peter – a brash, outspoken, sometimes undisciplined man – to drop his nets immediately and follow Jesus, while it was so much harder for those in today’s Gospel reading? Why could Matthew so easily get up from the counting table that was his life and livelihood and set off immediately without even knowing where he was going, while one of those here can’t depart without a full round of goodbyes? What was it that caused Mary Magdelene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and countless other women to cast everything else aside and, while others fled, unquestioningly follow Jesus not only to the cross but to the garden tomb on Easter morning?
The initial calls of discipleship we receive from God, those nudges to go in a new direction, may be easy to ignore. But those things we’re called to may be so difficult and overwhelming that the mere thought of change causes us to freeze up. In my own journey I had such a moment, when I discerned that everything God had been trying to tell me and which I’d tried so hard to ignore was leading me in the direction of seminary and into a new vocation as a priest.
What would it mean, and how would we survive? Yes, it meant drastic changes and adaptation to new things for my family. But as I learned and have been reminded many times since, God doesn’t just call and then leave you to it. Just as Jesus called the 12 and then walked with them, and just as he would have walked with those he called in today’s lesson, he calls us and then joins us.
What if I’d responded to God as these two responded to Jesus? What if I’d said, “You know, God, you’re right. Just let me wrap up all these other projects and then I’ll get right back to you.” Take it from me: that’s not a great answer. One thing I firmly believe is that doing something we’re called to do is always better than doing something to avoid the call.
Very often the call to follow Jesus is a difficult one. As with these three individuals, we may feel we’re not quite ready to take up the cross as Jesus did for us. In this Gospel Jesus has set his face to Jerusalem; he’s accepted the next steps of his journey and is prepared to take them. His disciples didn’t quite get it; as we’re well aware, they didn’t get a lot of things when he first told them. He tried to explain to them what was about to happen, but they didn’t understand. Here, he’s trying to bring others along and they don’t understand either.
They didn’t understand their call, and often we don’t see what we’re being called to. Despite that we’re still loved. Like the disciples there are times when we, too, don’t quite get it – but at the end of the day, that doesn’t really matter. Jesus still wants us to walk with him, and he waits for us to catch up: to follow the paths to which we’ve been led; to dare to do something new; to take the first step towards something we can’t even comprehend.
Answering a call means things will be left undone, and that’s okay. We can’t do everything, and God doesn’t expect us to try. Like the messengers mentioned in Luke, Jesus wants us to run on ahead of him: to invite the people we meet to run ahead with us; to spread his message of love, hope, and acceptance; to be able to turn and point as he approaches and say, “Jesus invited me to come with him, and here I am.”
That message of hope and invitation that you can share is simple and succinct, and it won’t take a 20-minute speech to say it. Just a moment will do.
Amen.