Speaker 1: Welcome to the CommonsCast. We're glad to have you here. We hope you find something meaningful in our teaching this week. Head to commons.church for more information. Alright.
Well, welcome today. Thanks for being here with us on the livestream as we make our way together toward Easter. My name is Jeremy. I'm part of the team here at Commons, and we are now well into Lent. Although, let's be honest here, everything has been a little lenty over this past year.
However, the difference is that we are now aware of the fact that we are heading toward resurrection together. So thank you for joining us on this journey, one that we have called travelogue. And, of course, this is about our journey through Lent together, but it's also about Jesus' journey through the book of Luke toward Jerusalem. Last week, we saw him set his face against the mountain. In the words of Luke, Jesus resolutely set out for Jerusalem, but we spent some time with the word choice here.
Luke uses the Greek word, which means resolute or steadfast. It implies commitment and purpose and all of that, but it's also a callback. And this is one of those interesting things about the gospel narratives. They aren't happening in a vacuum. These gospel writers are not dispassionate observers.
They are human beings who have been shaped both by their communities and by their encounters with the risen Jesus. And so when Luke uses the term sterozo, yes, he means resolute, but for Luke, it also conjures up the history of the Jewish people and their courage to speak truth to power, their tradition of constantly reforming their ways. By the way, in the Protestant Reformation, when there was a break from the Roman Catholic church, there was a slogan that animated much of that movement. It was ecclesia semper reformanda. It meant the church always reforming.
And somehow, sometimes it seems that we are the ones who forget that. We think that we are reformed or that we have reformed or we imagine that we are done the work of reformation and transformation, but that was never actually the goal. That was never the expectation. Instead, we are always reforming, always learning, always changing, always growing, always becoming something new. Luke knows that his people, the Jewish people, know this better than us.
After all, it was the prophets of old who called for change over and over again every time that it was needed. Someone rose up with the courage to set their face against the mountains of Israel to speak truth to them. And now Luke sees Jesus carrying on that tradition. So we have to remember that this Jesus is not a critic of Judaism any more than Martin Luther was a critic of Christianity. Religious traditions are always reforming and changing and growing and evolving, and it's those who are resolute in their posture of moving forward that move all of us toward God.
So Jesus sets out and heads for Jerusalem, and we followed him on the first steps of that journey. We noted two challenges that he faces already. One, he and his followers are rejected by a Samaritan village. We talked about some of the context surrounding all of that, this ongoing tension between the Jewish and Samaritan peoples, but also the ways that Jesus responds rejection with grace and peace. He actually begins from this point forward to specifically use the Samaritans as an example of grace and godliness.
He begins to intentionally push back against the type of tit for tat response that his disciples seem to want to fall into because this was the second point that we talked about last week. Jesus is resolute because he realizes that even his disciples don't quite get it yet. When the Samaritans don't welcome them, they want to call down fire from heaven. And it's this bizarre exchange. James and John turn to Jesus and they ask, Lord, do you want us to call down fire from heaven to destroy them?
Which one, I mean, Jesus is probably like, you can't even do that, so calm yourself. I mean, I imagine Jesus thinking, okay, give it a try. Let me know how it works out for you. Although I admit, you gotta appreciate their gumption. My son talks a big game.
He he tells me frequently that he is so brave he is not afraid of anything, and yet we're also holding off on reading Harry Potter three because he who shall not be named is still a little bit frightening right now. Either way, the disciples talk a big game, but Jesus kind of brushes this off and tells them to calm themselves. And he hocuses himself on the task at hand, which seems to have at least three parts to it right now. First, heading for Jerusalem on mission. Second, shaping his disciples to let go of this narrative of hatred they have bought into.
And third, looking for the moments to invite his Samaritan neighbors into new conversations. By the way, we started this year talking about forgiveness in a series called Reunion. One of those sermons was about revenge and why it always escalates, and here we see a great example of this. Samaritan village turns the disciples away. The disciples want to destroy them with fire.
Now, when we are wronged, especially when we are actually wronged. Right? But when we're wronged, it tends to make us think that our revenge is somehow sacred. And listen to me, fire from heaven does not come to burn up your enemies. That's not the God that we see in Jesus.
Fire from heaven is what burns away all that is broken and twisted in ourselves because even this is God's gift to us. Revenge is not holy. Faith as a weapon is not holy. Prayer that seeks to hurt or injure another, this is not holy. And if we really want what the disciples think that they want, we should be ready for that fire to transform us in all kinds of unexpected ways.
Now, this week, Jesus keeps walking and so do we. So let's pray and then we'll continue this journey together. God who walks with us on this path back to you, to your arms, to your embrace, for all the ways that we lose sight of the way of Jesus and return to thinking that scorched earth is better than planting and cultivating, that broken relationships are better than repairing and healing, that moving forward on our own path rather than repentance is the way that we can prove ourselves. In all of these ways, we are sorry, And we repent and we turn ourselves around trusting that you are always there to meet us, to put us back on the path that leads to grace, and to walk with us on the way to peace. And so, God, as we continue with you this week, help us to understand the weight of that calling, the work that is ahead of us, and the gift that lies at the end of that journey.
In the strong name of the risen Christ, we pray. Amen. Okay. We're going to pick up where we left off in Luke chapter nine starting in verse 57. And today, we'll talk about call and response, foxes, dens, birds, and nests burying the dead, and looking forward instead of looking back.
But let's start by reading our text. This is Luke nine verse 54, exactly where we left off last week through to the end of the chapter. As they were walking along the road, a man said to Jesus, I will follow you wherever you go. But Jesus replied, foxes have dens and birds have nests, but the son of man has no place to lay his head. He he said to another man, follow me.
But he replied, Lord, first, let me go and bury my father. So Jesus said to him, let the dead bury their own dead, but you go and proclaim the kingdom of God. Still another said, I will follow you, Lord, but first, let me go back and say goodbye to my family. But Jesus replied, no one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God. Harsh.
I mean, if the disciples had no chill last week, it seems that Jesus has got no chill today. But let's start there because this is one of those less than welcoming moments in the Jesus story, one of those moments that makes us all maybe a little uncomfortable. That moment where you ask Jesus if you can help, and he responds, look. I have nowhere to sleep. That feels at least a little passive aggressive.
So let's take a deeper look at this section and talk about what's going on here. And first of all, I think we have to note that there is a parallel to this in Matthew. It's in chapter eight over there. But in Matthew, the context is a little different. These conversations happen as Jesus is leaving the Gerasenes and getting back into a boat to head back across the lake to Galilee.
Remember, that's the story of Jesus calming the storm. We actually talked about that back in the fall in our strange exchange series. You you can find that one here on YouTube if you're intrigued by it, but we have no way of knowing which is the more historically accurate account. Both of the gospel writers are probably fitting their memories together in ways that feel authentic to them. And ironically, the fact that two writers recount the same story in a slightly different setting gives us a pretty good idea that these encounters actually did happen at some point between Jesus and these potential followers.
But Luke, he remembers the story as part of Jesus' movement to Jerusalem. And remember, last week we talked about being resolute, how Jesus has a sense of mission and purpose and is committed to seeing that through even if his disciples don't get it. Well, for Luke, this story seems like a perfect natural extension of that. Jesus is after all in some sense on his own. The disciples don't get it.
The Samaritans don't want him. Even those who fawn over him don't really understand the significance of what he is being called to. And so Luke is flowing together these stories and these encounters thematically to help us experience this journey along with Jesus. Remember, Luke is not an impartial observer. Luke is someone who has been touched by, irrevocably altered by Jesus, and now he wants all of us to experience that kind of encounter as well.
And I think that's actually a much better lens through which we can read these gospel narratives. They are impassioned attempts to get us to pay attention to Jesus. But if that's the goal, then let's look at how Luke is trying to do that with these encounters. First, we read that as they were walking along the road, remember, they've just left the village that they had intended to stay in. A man, the the Greek here is the pronoun tis, which means a certain man or a certain someone said to Jesus, I will follow you anywhere.
And the idea here is to give us the impression that this isn't just a stranger. It's it's a certain someone. He's not completely random. He's maybe known to Jesus or at least there's something about him that we should be paying attention to. And yet Luke leaves him unnamed for potentially a couple reasons.
First, maybe he just doesn't know this man's name. Lots of people followed Jesus throughout his life. In chapter 10, we find that there are actually 72 disciples with him at this point. Not all of them are named for us, so it could be just as simple as that. But second, I think perhaps Luke wants us to wonder a little bit here about this certain someone.
A certain someone approaches Jesus. Who is this someone? How is this someone like me? Can I imagine myself approaching Jesus this way? In other words, I think I think as we start the journey with Jesus, we're supposed to imagine ourselves making this kind of statement.
Do we know what we're getting ourselves into? Do we intend to follow through on our good intentions this length? And if we're gonna imagine ourselves in this certain someone, then the first question I wonder about is this, who is this person? Where did they come from? How did they know enough about Jesus to make this kind of a commitment?
So let's let's wonder about that together. If Jesus has already set out for Jerusalem and if he's already walked into Samaria and been asked to leave, then we've got two easy options here. One, maybe he's a Samaritan who watched Jesus enter his village and decided there's something about this guy. I'm gonna follow him, which I think considering the way that Jesus will now immediately begin using Samaritan imagery in the next chapter is really interesting. Interesting.
And imagine being a Samaritan who sees Jesus treated poorly but recognizes the grace in him and decides to follow him anyway. And then in the next encounter, Jesus uses you, your people as the image of divine love. There's just there's something very kind, very Jesus y in that scenario. However, as much as I like to think about that, I think perhaps the more likely scenario is that this man has been following Jesus since he left Galilee. And maybe this statement of support is now offered in response to what he's observed in Samaria.
Remember, there are at least 72 people with Jesus at this point, and he's going to commission all of them to go ahead and prepare the way for him in the next chapter. So here's the likely scenario. When Jesus heads for Jerusalem, this man follows along with the crowd. Jesus is kicked out of the first town they come to. And seeing this injustice, this guy is motivated by it.
He pipes up and he says, look, man. Don't worry about that. I will follow you anywhere. That's kinda nice. I think we all need a friend like that sometimes.
In fact, in contrast to the other call narratives like the ones we see for Peter and James and John, this is one of the only disciples who actually offers himself to Jesus. I think that says something about Jesus' growing stature in the eyes of the public. At the start of the gospels, he has to go around inviting people to follow him, but at this point, people are just coming up and pledging themselves to him. And I think we should pay attention to that. There's there's a magnetism to Jesus.
No doubt. People are drawn to him when he calls to them, but there's also a credibility to Jesus. When people hang back and they watch from the shadows, when they observe Jesus over time, when people take it slow, those people are still drawn in and captivated by what they see. In other words, Jesus has far more than nice hair and smooth words. He's got a life that people are observing and watching and finding themselves excited by.
And again, I just I really like that, That Jesus can call you in a dramatic moment and you can drop everything to follow him on the spot. Or you can watch and observe and listen and learn and slowly decide that his is the path for you. And no matter how you come to Jesus in a moment of ecstatic encounter or in the long, slow burn of discovery and decision, neither of these are any more or less dramatic in the economy of the kingdom. How you got here does not matter. And while the language of being born again from above is incredibly beautiful and profoundly insightful, I mean, think of the image of seeing the world again for the very first time.
When we weaponize that language and we make some people feel like their encounter with Jesus is somehow less than or incomplete because it happened not in a moment they can point to. But over the long slow burn, I think we do a disservice to the welcome of Christ that waits with open arms for each of us regardless of how we find our way to God. And I say all of this because regardless of which scenario we identify with personally, the Samaritan who drops everything to follow Jesus or the Galilean who follows at a distance and slowly listens and decides to buy in. I think we sometimes assume that this person is automatically now scared off by Jesus' response. But the truth is we don't actually know that.
No. We'll look at Jesus' response here in a moment, but note this. We're not given any indication that this man did anything less than exactly what he said he would do, that he followed Jesus wherever he went. Look. Look.
Maybe he did, and maybe he never fell away, and maybe that never amounted to anything exciting enough for Luke to bother writing about. But maybe maybe that quiet and faithful commitment lived outside of the spotlight. Maybe that was enough for Jesus. And maybe we should all of us hold on to that in our lives. Regardless, this certain someone said, Jesus, I will follow you wherever you go, and Jesus responds, Foxes have dens and birds have nests, but the son of man has no place to lay his head.
And, again, I I don't know about you, but for me, at least on first reading, this feels a little passive aggressive. Hey, Jesus. I'm ready. You lead. I'll follow.
Yeah. Well, I don't even have a pillow. So and by the way, that immediately makes me think back to the story about Jesus calming the storm because if you remember when we talked about that this fall, Mark tells us that Jesus specifically brought his own pillow onto the boat so that he would have somewhere to lay his head and take a nap during a storm that arose. This is where we need one of those office style shots where the camera zooms in on one of the disciples in the background muttering about pillows and storms, but I digress. Because even if this feels a little bit like a brush off at first, I think I think I think maybe we can choose to hear something different in Jesus' words here.
Not a note of discouragement, but instead, maybe a gain, a kindness. I think, first of all, it seems to me that we should acknowledge this, that Jesus was not a wealthy man. And anything wanting to follow him to cash in on his fame was surely going to be disappointed by that. You we see wealthy people, famous people in the news and the tabloids all around us all the time that have a huge entourage of people surrounding them. People following them and praising them and telling them what they want to hear just to get a scrap of leftover wealth or vicarious celebrity.
There there was a tragic story that unfolded this past year in the death of Tony Hsieh. He was a brilliant man. He founded zappos.com and sold his company for $2,000,000,000 in 2019. But then after retiring in his mid forties, he built his own community that started out with undoubtedly good intentions. He offered friends double the amount of their highest salary ever achieved to move to his community with the only requirement that they, quote, be happy, unquote.
A lot of people took him up on it. But over time, when it started to become clear that he was not doing well, that his mental health was declining, and that his drug use was spiraling. No one who was now not dependent on his money had the courage to confront him about any of it. One friend was quoted after his death saying that people took that deal from someone who was obviously sick, and they encouraged his decline either tacitly or actively. Now in this case, was Tony Shea who ended up being hurt by these false intentions, but I think part of what Jesus is trying to do here is the kindness of upfront honesty.
Following Jesus will not make you wealthy. It will not make you more handsome. Donating to the church will not result in a magical deposit in your savings account. None of this is true because none of this is ever what Jesus ever offers any of us. The gospel is not an invitation into an inner circle with benefits.
And maybe this certain someone knows that going in, but I think Jesus wants to make that clear because that is kindness. And look, getting someone to agree to something, even something as important as following Jesus when it is done manipulatively or coercively or dishonestly, it's not the way of Jesus. There there is no bait and switch here. There is no soft sell here. There is no buy now, pay later with Jesus.
There is only the narrow gate and the way that leads us inexorably toward it. And so Jesus said to another man, follow me. But he replied, Lord, first let me go and bury my father. Jesus said to him, let the dead bury their own dead, but you go and proclaim the kingdom of God. Still another said, I will follow you, Lord, but first let me go back and say goodbye to my family.
But Jesus replied, no one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God. And these two might even seem more appointed than the first. But they, of course, are a continuation of this theme that Jesus is building. And both of these have reference to the Hebrew scriptures, so let's look at them. First, let the dead bury their own.
You go and proclaim the kingdom of God. Now people have tried all kinds of ways to massage this one. There is a an outside possibility that what we're reading here is actually a mistranslation of an Aramaic phrase. Mut is the Hebrew for dead, metu is the plural, and metim is a Semitic word that describes something like pallbearers, essentially the people who actually physically interred the dead. And in the case that Jesus meant that, it would be something like, let those who bury the dead bury the dead.
And it's interesting, although there's not much of any textual evidence to support that theory. Another thing that you'll often see is this translated, let the spiritually dead bury the physically dead. And while I agree, that is absolutely Jesus' point, I think it also misses the theatrics of his statement. And, course, the dead can't bury the dead. It's not a logical statement that he's trying to make here.
He's not actually talking about the logistics of funerals. He's making a pointed statement about our priorities. But where this gets really interesting is when you realize that the burial of family members was not just a question of etiquette or grief. It was actually a question of religious law. Children were obligated to bury their parents.
Scholar John Nolan writes that in Jewish tradition, the burial of a dead relative was a prime religious duty. And in the case of the death of a parent, responsibility rested particularly on the son of the family, not Mishnah Berekot. Part of the Talmud says, he who is confronted by a dead relative is now freed from reciting the Shema, from the 18 Benedictions, and from all the commandments stated in Torah to bury their family. In other words, this responsibility takes precedence almost over everything but not Jesus. In other words, the way of Jesus supersedes the way of religion.
Following Jesus takes precedence even over the commands of scripture now reinterpreted in the light of Jesus. And again, this is a kindness. Do you love your religion more than Jesus? If you do, then his is not the way for you. And please, don't kid yourself into thinking that this is a critique of Judaism.
That is not Jesus' point. Jesus' point is that religion and the practices of it are meant to serve us and shape us, not to rigidly prevent us from what is best for us. That means that sometimes moving forward without looking back is what we really need in our lives. So in another, Jesus says, no one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom. And this one comes from First Kings 19.
There Elijah calls Elisha to follow him. And Elisha says, awesome, but first let me go back and tell my parents what I'm doing, have dinner with them, and say my goodbyes, and Elijah says, sure, that that seems appropriate. Cool. And yet here, Jesus says, no. And again, I don't think the point is that dinner with mom and dad is bad.
The point is actually connected to what we saw last week. That Jesus is different than Elijah. Now, Elijah is part of the story that leads us to Jesus, but Jesus will chart the way forward toward God from here. And there will be no fire from heaven. There will be no scorched earth.
There will be no way to the father but the way of grace and peace and welcome and transformation. The way of partnering with God, the way of God's kingdom here on earth as it is already right now in heaven. The way that counts the cost and does the thing and does it well with everything we have at our disposal. And that is a long journey. One that we have walked on and stumbled over and tripped off of and scrambled back onto for more than two thousand years now.
But it is the way that leads us inevitably into new life. So let's go. God, who invites us on the way, but then meets us there to walk with us, to pick us up, to set us back on our feet, to turn us when we have moved in the wrong direction, to keep encouraging us, to move toward the grace that brings peace to our lives. Thank you for your commitment to us, but also for the fact that you don't soft sell anything. You don't manipulate us.
You don't coerce us. You don't bait and switch us. You tell us that the way of grace is hard, that the way of peace often hurts, or that the life you lead us to is the life that we were meant for. God, may we pick up our cross and follow you with the same commitment that you show to us. In that, may we truly find the resurrection you've intended for us.
In the strong name of the risen Christ, we pray. Amen.