All Of This, And A Reward, Too?
Sermon
No Post-Easter Slump
Gospel Sermons for Sundays after Pentecost (First Third)
Object:
If we took this chapter seriously, we would probably wish that Matthew had never written it. Or, if he did write it, he should have eliminated the first 39 verses, and included only the last three. When we examine it carefully, or not so carefully, we discover that it turns our usual thinking about discipleship upside down.
I
Chapter 10 begins with God's call. God called the disciples from death to life. Some learned that accepting God's call would result in their early death. Yet, even if they had known in advance, still they would have responded. Following the call, God then commissions the disciples for their difficult task. "Don't even begin unless you're willing to persevere!" In verses 16-23, God continues to inform them of the dangers of their response. "See, I am sending you out like sheep into the midst of wolves; so be wise as serpents and innocent as doves." They would learn that truth only through the school of hard knocks. In verses 24-25, God probably startled them by encouraging them to be as Christ himself. And then, in verses 26-39, God consecrates them to their supreme task, to bear the Cross which could lead them to death, and in many instances did. No more doffing of one's hat to God, no mere using God for their purposes, no mere discipleship as convenience-store religion permitted. God called them to radical obedience.
We want to confine God's words, expectations, demands to a time long ago. We may think, would even like to think, that Jesus spoke specifically, and only specifically, to the twelve. Those non-sophisticates needed to get hit over the head to get the show on the road. Surely, this chapter applies only to them, not to us, now that we have "conquered the world for God." Don't you believe it! For unless we take the first part of this chapter seriously, we will never participate in the results. Chapter 10 begins with God's call to the original twelve and to us. It ends with a gift to them and to us.
II
Faith always begins with a gift, "The Incomparable," a title given to Seagram's distillery's top product some years ago. Faith always begins with God's grace, that unearned, undeserved, unmerited, unconditional acceptance of us as we are, here and now, not as we were yesterday, not as we will be tomorrow. Yet, most of us have great difficulty receiving anything, let alone the grace of God. The Scripture insists that "it's more blessed to give than receive"; but most of us have much more difficulty receiving than giving.
The twelve-year-old boy picked strawberries and beans one summer. As a surprise to his family, he spent hours choosing the right gifts for his parents and siblings. With pride and expectancy, he presented each gift. The only response came from his mother. "You shouldn't have done this."
Yes, how tough for us to receive. As a result, the New Year's card industry has bloomed in recent years. Why? Because we need a "legitimate" way to pay back those folks to whom we sent no cards, and whose cards to us arrived on December 26. We can't stand indebtedness to anyone, including God. We Protestants have created our own purgatory. A theology professor in a conservative Presbyterian seminary said to his class, "I doubt that more than five percent of us believe in the grace of God."
Once again, we abhor being in debt to God, so we seek to work our way, earn our way, climb our way into the Kingdom, by what we do and what we do not do. A Presbyterian elder, in his seventies, for the first time heard his pastor explain the meaning of grace. For years this elder performed every task in his local church to keep the institution perking. Then, when the pastor proclaimed that the Good News is free, the elder dejectedly responded, "I've been wasting my time all these years." Of course, he still failed to hear Good News. Yet, the Scripture says, over and over, entrance into the Kingdom is a gift. Either we receive the gift, or we do not. If we do not, God keeps pursuing us, until we say a final "No." The creed proclaims that "he descended into hell," still offering the gifts.
III
To those who receive and act upon the gift, Matthew, in the last three verses, focuses on the results of obedient suffering. Jesus affirms them for the dignity of their labors. He promises a reward for their faithful discipleship, extending to all who receive them.
The disciples, indeed, will suffer persecution, both from supposed friends inside and from obnoxious enemies outside the community. They learned, instantly, that, to take a stand, especially an unpopular one, invites criticism, often condemnation. Paul provides an additional clue in the Colossian letter. "I must fill up that which is lacking in the suffering of Christ." Have we ever heard Paul's statement? Paul speaks here, not about the natural suffering which comes to all of us; nor about playing Christian "kick-me" games; not about some physical toothache, or cancer, or AIDS, as crosses to endure (those are burdens, not crosses); nor about pathological, masochistic suffering as ends in themselves.
Paul speaks of suffering which results from, and only from, obedience to the Christ, no matter what the risks or consequences. Soren Kierkegaard points out that the decisive mark of the Christian is suffering, voluntary suffering. The compromising, acculturated church, the lukewarm church of Revelation has no idea what suffering for Christ means. Some of us are easily offended by any demand that we choose to suffer for any reason. Usually, we regard someone who makes a profound sacrifice for Christ's sake as lacking in common sense and good judgment. After all, we want no one to call us fanatics. Good grief, no! What humiliation! Yet, at the same time, our society encourages all kinds of fanaticism in sports, recreation, vocation, making-money schemes.
Take a simple, dreaded task with which most church sessions wrestle every year. "Whom shall we put on the inactive roll?" Not that one, his grandfather gave money for the organ fifty years ago. Not that one, she attended at Easter two years ago. Not that one, he gave $500 to the memorial fund (for his pet project). Not that one, she moved away fifteen years ago, and insists that we keep her name on the active roll. Most governing bodies take the easy way out to keep peace in the family, peace at all costs.
In the power of Christ, not all Christians back down and run away. In Ceylon, a high-caste person believes that God has called him to serve with the out-caste community. The high-caste members of his congregation have condemned his action, and have moved to a more congenial church. This man has been attacked in the streets, his house stoned. He has suffered severely for his commitment. As a result, he has become the most trusted friend of the out-caste community. His suffering has brought the members of that community into a knowledge of Jesus the Christ. This man has lived out the words of Karl Barth. "If there is no great agony in your heart, there will be no great words on your lips."
IV
Thank God, suffering never has the last word. Some will receive the disciples; some won't. That's God's business. Those who do receive the twelve, the extended twelve, namely, the church, receive Christ himself. Did we hear that promise? Those who receive them, and us, receive Christ! "Whoever gives to one of these little ones, that is, needy ones, even a cup of cold water, shall not lose his or her reward." Carl Jung's answer to Job, to us, drives home the truth. "To have nothing but God is everything."
David Livingstone lived what he believed. One day, he spoke at Glasgow University. As he rose to speak, he bore on his body the marks of his African struggles. Severe illnesses on nearly thirty occasions had left him gaunt and haggard. His left arm, crushed by a lion, hung helplessly at his side. After describing his trials and temptations, he asked, "Would you like me to tell you what supported me through all the years of exile among people whose language I could not understand and whose attitudes toward me were always uncertain and often hostile? It was this, 'Lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the world.' On those words, I staked everything, and they never failed."1
God calls us, sustains us along the way, and rewards us at the end. Christ always exhorts us to give our lives away, for the right reasons and causes, even when, especially when, we want to set the agenda, determine the route, to make it easy for us. God's Christ disturbs us when we take his mission seriously. God's Christ pushes us to change, to give up old, archaic, destructive behavior. God's Christ calls us out of our Egyptian slavery into the wilderness of our daily journey, into events in which we have no idea what the future holds.
Whatever our age, if we willingly lose our lives for Christ's sake and the good news, we will find our lives in obedience to the living Christ, in the Name of God the Creator, Liberator, Sustainer, Energizer. Amen.
____________
1. From Christian Century. Source lost, date unknown.
I
Chapter 10 begins with God's call. God called the disciples from death to life. Some learned that accepting God's call would result in their early death. Yet, even if they had known in advance, still they would have responded. Following the call, God then commissions the disciples for their difficult task. "Don't even begin unless you're willing to persevere!" In verses 16-23, God continues to inform them of the dangers of their response. "See, I am sending you out like sheep into the midst of wolves; so be wise as serpents and innocent as doves." They would learn that truth only through the school of hard knocks. In verses 24-25, God probably startled them by encouraging them to be as Christ himself. And then, in verses 26-39, God consecrates them to their supreme task, to bear the Cross which could lead them to death, and in many instances did. No more doffing of one's hat to God, no mere using God for their purposes, no mere discipleship as convenience-store religion permitted. God called them to radical obedience.
We want to confine God's words, expectations, demands to a time long ago. We may think, would even like to think, that Jesus spoke specifically, and only specifically, to the twelve. Those non-sophisticates needed to get hit over the head to get the show on the road. Surely, this chapter applies only to them, not to us, now that we have "conquered the world for God." Don't you believe it! For unless we take the first part of this chapter seriously, we will never participate in the results. Chapter 10 begins with God's call to the original twelve and to us. It ends with a gift to them and to us.
II
Faith always begins with a gift, "The Incomparable," a title given to Seagram's distillery's top product some years ago. Faith always begins with God's grace, that unearned, undeserved, unmerited, unconditional acceptance of us as we are, here and now, not as we were yesterday, not as we will be tomorrow. Yet, most of us have great difficulty receiving anything, let alone the grace of God. The Scripture insists that "it's more blessed to give than receive"; but most of us have much more difficulty receiving than giving.
The twelve-year-old boy picked strawberries and beans one summer. As a surprise to his family, he spent hours choosing the right gifts for his parents and siblings. With pride and expectancy, he presented each gift. The only response came from his mother. "You shouldn't have done this."
Yes, how tough for us to receive. As a result, the New Year's card industry has bloomed in recent years. Why? Because we need a "legitimate" way to pay back those folks to whom we sent no cards, and whose cards to us arrived on December 26. We can't stand indebtedness to anyone, including God. We Protestants have created our own purgatory. A theology professor in a conservative Presbyterian seminary said to his class, "I doubt that more than five percent of us believe in the grace of God."
Once again, we abhor being in debt to God, so we seek to work our way, earn our way, climb our way into the Kingdom, by what we do and what we do not do. A Presbyterian elder, in his seventies, for the first time heard his pastor explain the meaning of grace. For years this elder performed every task in his local church to keep the institution perking. Then, when the pastor proclaimed that the Good News is free, the elder dejectedly responded, "I've been wasting my time all these years." Of course, he still failed to hear Good News. Yet, the Scripture says, over and over, entrance into the Kingdom is a gift. Either we receive the gift, or we do not. If we do not, God keeps pursuing us, until we say a final "No." The creed proclaims that "he descended into hell," still offering the gifts.
III
To those who receive and act upon the gift, Matthew, in the last three verses, focuses on the results of obedient suffering. Jesus affirms them for the dignity of their labors. He promises a reward for their faithful discipleship, extending to all who receive them.
The disciples, indeed, will suffer persecution, both from supposed friends inside and from obnoxious enemies outside the community. They learned, instantly, that, to take a stand, especially an unpopular one, invites criticism, often condemnation. Paul provides an additional clue in the Colossian letter. "I must fill up that which is lacking in the suffering of Christ." Have we ever heard Paul's statement? Paul speaks here, not about the natural suffering which comes to all of us; nor about playing Christian "kick-me" games; not about some physical toothache, or cancer, or AIDS, as crosses to endure (those are burdens, not crosses); nor about pathological, masochistic suffering as ends in themselves.
Paul speaks of suffering which results from, and only from, obedience to the Christ, no matter what the risks or consequences. Soren Kierkegaard points out that the decisive mark of the Christian is suffering, voluntary suffering. The compromising, acculturated church, the lukewarm church of Revelation has no idea what suffering for Christ means. Some of us are easily offended by any demand that we choose to suffer for any reason. Usually, we regard someone who makes a profound sacrifice for Christ's sake as lacking in common sense and good judgment. After all, we want no one to call us fanatics. Good grief, no! What humiliation! Yet, at the same time, our society encourages all kinds of fanaticism in sports, recreation, vocation, making-money schemes.
Take a simple, dreaded task with which most church sessions wrestle every year. "Whom shall we put on the inactive roll?" Not that one, his grandfather gave money for the organ fifty years ago. Not that one, she attended at Easter two years ago. Not that one, he gave $500 to the memorial fund (for his pet project). Not that one, she moved away fifteen years ago, and insists that we keep her name on the active roll. Most governing bodies take the easy way out to keep peace in the family, peace at all costs.
In the power of Christ, not all Christians back down and run away. In Ceylon, a high-caste person believes that God has called him to serve with the out-caste community. The high-caste members of his congregation have condemned his action, and have moved to a more congenial church. This man has been attacked in the streets, his house stoned. He has suffered severely for his commitment. As a result, he has become the most trusted friend of the out-caste community. His suffering has brought the members of that community into a knowledge of Jesus the Christ. This man has lived out the words of Karl Barth. "If there is no great agony in your heart, there will be no great words on your lips."
IV
Thank God, suffering never has the last word. Some will receive the disciples; some won't. That's God's business. Those who do receive the twelve, the extended twelve, namely, the church, receive Christ himself. Did we hear that promise? Those who receive them, and us, receive Christ! "Whoever gives to one of these little ones, that is, needy ones, even a cup of cold water, shall not lose his or her reward." Carl Jung's answer to Job, to us, drives home the truth. "To have nothing but God is everything."
David Livingstone lived what he believed. One day, he spoke at Glasgow University. As he rose to speak, he bore on his body the marks of his African struggles. Severe illnesses on nearly thirty occasions had left him gaunt and haggard. His left arm, crushed by a lion, hung helplessly at his side. After describing his trials and temptations, he asked, "Would you like me to tell you what supported me through all the years of exile among people whose language I could not understand and whose attitudes toward me were always uncertain and often hostile? It was this, 'Lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the world.' On those words, I staked everything, and they never failed."1
God calls us, sustains us along the way, and rewards us at the end. Christ always exhorts us to give our lives away, for the right reasons and causes, even when, especially when, we want to set the agenda, determine the route, to make it easy for us. God's Christ disturbs us when we take his mission seriously. God's Christ pushes us to change, to give up old, archaic, destructive behavior. God's Christ calls us out of our Egyptian slavery into the wilderness of our daily journey, into events in which we have no idea what the future holds.
Whatever our age, if we willingly lose our lives for Christ's sake and the good news, we will find our lives in obedience to the living Christ, in the Name of God the Creator, Liberator, Sustainer, Energizer. Amen.
____________
1. From Christian Century. Source lost, date unknown.
