Luke 9:57-62 · The Cost of Following Jesus
Discipleship: Backward or Forward to God
Luke 9:51-62
Sermon
by Maurice A. Fetty
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Leave the dead to bury their own dead; but as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God. — Luke 9:60

It was Thomas Wolfe who made the saying famous: "You can't go home again." He said these words that have been repeated and quoted thousands of times since. It has some affinity with another saying, "You cannot step into the same river twice." Life, like a river, is an ever-flowing and ever-changing reality.

One philosopher altered the familiar saying to "you cannot step into the same river once," meaning that even as you step into the river it is flowing and changing and so are you. Life is flux and change and process. Perhaps it is because life is constant change and flux and process that we try to go home again to get our bearings, especially if we have a strong sense of place as do I.

I don't know about you, but I do try to "go home again." I like to revisit familiar places to recall wonderful happenings and to bask in sentiment and nostalgia. I like to return to my Wisconsin hometown to hike the hills and valleys, canoe the streams, and go boating on the Mississippi. I enjoy returning to other cities where I have lived, going to favorite restaurants, visiting favorite sites and bookstores, and looking up old friends. I even enjoy going back to Brooklyn where I once lived and ministered!

But times change and so do the places — the sacred places with sacred memories. Times change and so do the people. When we go back, we discover the people we once knew in a certain way have changed. Life is process for them too. And we have changed. Our hope of relocating precisely the feeling, mood, and happiness of a past event is a disappointed hope. Things do not come together quite as we had planned.

One time we were taking our children back to our home in Minneapolis in the suburb of Edina. We had moved away when they were relatively young and returned for a look some years later. Imagine our surprise when we discovered the stately, old elementary school our children attended had been completely torn down. There was an audible gasp from the backseat as they looked at an open playground where once had stood their solid, old school building sanctified with so many happy memories.

Our children couldn't go home again as far as school was concerned. The school was no more and even if the school had been there they wouldn't have fit in. Of course, they could have gone through the doors and revisited the gym and their old classrooms, but it wouldn't be the same, because they had grown and changed in so many ways.

Another problem in going home again is that the hometown folks, whoever they are and wherever they are, always remember you for who you were and not for who you have become. They remember you as a growing boy or gangling girl, from either the right side or the wrong side of the tracks. They filter you through their old spectacles of past realities rather than seeing you in the present for who in truth you are. It's hard to go home again.

Jesus discovered that it is hard to go home again when he returned to his hometown of Nazareth after he had moved away and become popular as a prophet. He spent about thirty years of his life in Nazareth, helping his father in the carpentry business and then taking over the business after his father's early death.

Now back in Nazareth, he is asked to speak in the synagogue, a high honor accorded to traveling teachers and preachers. Jesus read the famous messianic Servant Song from Isaiah 61, and then went on to imply that God had called him to be the Messiah, to fulfill that prophecy.

It took some time for it all to sink in, but it soon became too much for the hometown folk to swallow. Who does this Jesus think he is? We have known him from childhood, they said. His mother, brothers, and sisters live among us, and they are just common folk. Who does he think he is to claim that he is anything more than common folk?

We remember the houses he built, the furniture he made, and the barns he repaired. Now he claims to be the one fulfilling the messianic prophecy. Their anger grew to the point that they threw him out of the synagogue and tried to push him over a cliff to kill him. (These were the "dear hearts and gentle people" of his hometown.) The people who were looking forward to a Messiah for centuries were convinced he couldn't be from their hometown. It couldn't happen here and now.

So it was that even Jesus couldn't go home again – home to the people he loved and knew; home to the familiar streets, smells, and sights; home to the synagogue where he learned to read and write and began to memorize the sacred scriptures. There was a sense in which he had hoped to go back to God. Tragically and importantly, he learned that the way to God is usually forward, not backward.

I.  Perhaps that was what Jesus meant when he told the scribe that the foxes have holes and the birds have nests but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.

I remember reading in detail the campaign arrangement of then presidential candidate Gerald Ford of Grand Rapids, Michigan. Every minute of every day and night was thoroughly scheduled by his handlers. He was brusquely hustled from one place to another to maintain a tight schedule. A news reporter called attention to occasional three minute gaps in the schedule. That, said a slightly annoyed handler, is a bathroom stop. Gerald Ford hardly had time for that while campaigning.

In his busy campaign for the kingdom of God, Jesus also experienced the pressure of a hectic schedule and the demands of the crowd. He had given up not only his family home in Nazareth, but he rarely got to his lakeside home in Capernaum. Such was the urgency of his mission and the message of the impending kingdom of God.

The scribe of our text, by contrast, had grown accustomed to the comfortable, quiet, circumscribed, and predictable life of the scholar. True to his title, he was a "scribbler," a writer whose task it was to copy sacred law by hand since there was no other way to copy it. As a consequence, he became an expert in the laws, knowing them almost by memory, and practiced more or less as a lawyer, giving learned interpretations of the law.

As was the case with most legal minds, his was back-ward-looking rather than forward-looking. When asked a question, he would look back to what was written in the law. More than that, he looked for precedents, past decisions, and illustrations from yesteryear. Reality for the scribe and lawyer tended to be located in the past. The present was to be defined by the past.

That is why Jesus' apparently abrupt statement was so much on target. Firmly convinced God was not to be found so much in the past as in the future, Jesus warned him of the risks of launching out into untried laws and cases and into uncharted seas. Was this scribe looking back to God or forward to God? Was he willing to leave the security of history and precedent to launch a new history? Was he venturesome enough to leave behind old definitions of sacred reality to discover and experience new sacred realities?

More than that, scholars and lawyers have "nesting instincts." They like to work within known boundaries of custom and precedent. They like to learn the established rules of the game and then play the game profitably and well. It is only the venturesome lawyer who will leave a safe practice and run for political office or become involved in social reform.

Better to lead the comfortable, successful bourgeois life than risk everything in a cause, no matter how noble, that may fail.

The scribe or lawyer "went home again," back to old sacred realities and securities. But Jesus, learning by harsh experience and divine inspiration, knew that you could not go home again. The way to God is forward, not backward.

II.  Another would-be disciple presented himself to Jesus and Jesus extended the invitation, "Follow me. Enlist in the cause. Become part of the campaign for the kingdom of God. We think the time is ripe for revolution and change. In fact we think the time is at hand. Come on board," said Jesus.

The would-be disciple obviously had been intrigued with Jesus, his message, and his followers, but when presented with the actual decision, he hesitated. "Let me first go and bury by father." But Jesus replied, "Leave the dead to bury their own dead; but as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God."

The dignified burial of one's parents was one of the most sacred obligations imposed upon a Jewish man of Jesus' time. The fifth commandment enjoined every son and daughter to honor their father and mother, and a decent burial and funeral was one of the ways in which honor was to be shown. Consequently, at first glance, Jesus' reply seems abrupt.

Let's take a second glance. Did the customs of the time call upon a young man to leave father and mother behind to serve in the army? Indeed they did. Patriotic loyalty then, as now, often superseded family loyalty. From time to time did young men leave home to pursue a successful career in places other than their hometown and native land? Indeed they did. The promise of success, fame, and fortune then, as now, led many a man to leave the burial of his father to others.

Something greater than career or patriotism is challenging us, said Jesus. We are announcing the kingdom of God. We are proclaiming a new political and religious order where God is king and righteousness and justice prevail. We want to draw people out of old ways of thinking and relating to new ways of thinking. Leave the spiritually and ideologically dead to bury the spiritually and physically dead. Follow me; join up to help create a new world.

The late Ernie Campbell, former Riverside Church preacher, liked to point out that many Christians prefer to believe in Jesus rather than follow him. They prefer to spiritualize and intellectualize the faith. They concern themselves more with right creeds, formulas, and doctrines than with right actions. They tend to see faith as a fossilized piece of the past rather than a living force of the present. They are not, as Blase Pascal observed, gambling on the supreme advantage of faith. They are at home in the old order and are unwilling to take risks for the new order.

They remain mildly content with their parents' definition of reality rather than shaping new realities. Unlike Jesus, who had the courage to leave the repressive atmosphere of Nazareth, this disciple went home again and stayed home, devoted to the old order until at last he was buried in it.

Alas, said Jesus, the way to God is not backward, but forward. God is interested in creating a new future. Go, proclaim the kingdom of God.

III.  The third backward-looking, would-be disciple wanted first to go say good-bye to those at home. Jesus gave his now-famous reply, saying, "No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God."

I doubt if there are many who have had the experience of plowing in the manner of a Palestinian farmer of Jesus' day. Hitched to an ox or a donkey, the farmer would guide his plow carefully, keeping his eye on a distant, fixed point so as to plow a straight furrow. The only way to do the job right was to look forward. Look ahead to how much you had to do and do well. Look ahead to the opportunity for new life and growth in freshly tilled fields rather than looking back to the past, to what has already been accomplished. If you look back, your furrows will be crooked and your future will be troubled.

Jesus was fearful this young man believed he could go home again and that once he got there he would be content to rest on his laurels and stay there. Like a friend of mine who was a high school basketball star and always going back to the memories of his past glory rather than creating a new future. Jesus was afraid this young man would be enticed by the memories of the past rather than be challenged by the promise of a new future.

Many of us have encountered people like that. "If only you had been there," they tell us. "Those were the days, the good old days, when God was in his heaven and all was right with the world." It doesn't take long for us to figure out that they are not really with us, they are not only remembering the past but living in the past. They've gone backward to God, backward to the sacred moments, backward to the way it used to be but isn't now and never will be again.

Those of us in religion are prone to look backward to God — and with good reason. If philosophers look back to the Axial Period 600 years before Christ and the burst of insight and philosophy characteristic of that period, so do we look back to Moses, Isaiah, Jesus, and Paul as high points of the experience of God in human history.

Consequently, ministers tend to get buried in ancient books and dusty tomes. We poke around in archeological digs for evidence of a far-off divine event. We collect our relics, visit our museums, recall the past heroes of the faith, and sing and play music that is more a museum piece than a march or dance.

Sometimes we get the feeling that we spend most of our time and energy remembering other people's sacred moments and peak experiences. We talk about other people's encounters with God but do not take the risk of having some of our own. We tend to live out other people's past definitions of reality. We conform to their taste, succumb to their fears and biases, and constrict ourselves to their experiential boundaries. We've gone back to say good-bye to our family and stayed there within the confines of those old realities. Ministers are in danger of that.

It's a little like being born into a family who talks only of things that happened before you were born. Pretty soon, you get the idea that you do not belong, that you are really an outsider, that all the sacred and important events happened before you got here and cannot happen again. Too bad. You missed out. God came this way once and never will come again. We'll tell you the stories, but the memories and realities really are ours, not yours.

That's what the hometown folk told Jesus of Nazareth. His suggestion that the kingdom of God was breaking into history in a new way in their own time even through a hometown boy was just too much.

So they tried to kill him. He was disturbing the sacred memories. He was undermining the old definitions of reality. He was bringing into the present what they had locked into the past or safely postponed to the distant future. He was challenging them to new ways of seeing and relating. He was shocking them out of the comforts of sentiment and nostalgia in to the searing demands of a God who asks for justice and righteousness now, who requires a pilgrimage of faith and hope and love now with a Jesus who says with philosopher Alfred North Whitehead that "without adventure civilization is in decay," who affirms again with Whitehead that "Advance or Decadence are the only choices offered to humankind. The pure conservative is fighting against the essence of the universe" (Adventures in Ideas, p. 354).

Jesus had it right, once you set your hand to the plow, you can't look back. You can't go home again. The way to God is forward, not backward. Amen.

CSS Publishing Company, Adventuring into the New Age : cycle C sermons for Pentecost 1, Pentecost Day through Proper 12, based on the Gospel texts, by Maurice A. Fetty