Text: Matthew 10:40-42
Jesus is talking to his disciples and making the most challenging demand of all his teachings: “…whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me.” Doesn’t your heart quake when you hear those words, fearing that in fact you are not capable of carrying the cross? Mine certainly does. But not to be hopeless: I believe that when the time comes, God gives us the courage and the capability to do what we are called upon to do…emphasis upon “when the time comes”. We don’t get a sort of generic ability to carry the cross; we only get a specific ability to carry the cross, when it becomes necessary. So don’t worry about whether you can do it. When the time comes, you will be able to do it.
And then Jesus speaks these strange words that form our Gospel text today. What on earth does he mean? My trusty Bible commentary suggests that this passage reflects the structure of the Christian community to which Matthew belonged. It is comprised of “little ones” – those who are uneducated and in need of assistance and leadership, of “righteous persons” – possibly those who have suffered persecution and who remain in the community as honoured witnesses, of “prophets” – those who are entrusted with the responsibility to teach, and Jesus himself, representing God who is also present in the community. All truth and authority in this community derives from God, through Jesus, to the prophets, to the witnesses who have laid their lives on the line – that is, carried their cross – to the little ones…the young, the needy, the sick. The disciples, presumably, fit into the category of prophets.
The function of the Christian community is to welcome – welcome the witnesses, welcome the prophets, welcome the little ones, and by so doing, welcome Jesus, and by so doing, welcome God. How can it be this simple? I don’t think it’s simple to welcome anybody. It takes openness, being willing to contemplate change. It takes generosity, looking beyond yourself and your own interests. It takes preparation and hard work, offering hospitality, sharing your space and your goods. Mostly it takes understanding of the value of community and willingness to build that rather than your own little empire. It takes trust, letting go of personal control of your environment and allowing others not only to come in but to use it and occupy it. Can’t you feel your mind and your heart being painfully pried open at the thought? Wouldn’t you prefer to use and occupy your own space, enjoy privacy and protect your own belongings? That’s individualism, one of the highest values of the western world. It’s not a value that Jesus would have held, nor the disciples, nor much of our present world – occupied by the “little ones” who do not have the luxury of privacy or individualism. I thought of that often in Peru while riding on a local van or bus, crammed in with the farmers taking their goods to the market. I was just glad there weren’t any pigs or chickens on the bus – at least not as far as I knew. Or if there were, they were likely in crates or sacks on the roof. Inside the bus, there certainly were loads of vegetables, pails of milk, and fodder for animals. And on the way back to the village there were pails of slop from restaurants being taken home to feed the pigs. Aren’t we fortunate that we don’t have to put up with that kind of invasion of our comfortable private space on a daily basis?
But maybe it’s not the way it should be. This week on the radio I’ve heard discussions about banning any more “drive-throughs” in Calgary. The city alderman who is promoting the idea says that drive-throughs are a menace because they make it unnecessary for people to encounter one another – we order giant cups of coffee and go on our way. Social contact is practically nil – we don’t even have to see the face of the person who pours our coffee. It seems like a minor concern; while we’re at it maybe we could also ban automatic teller machines, parking lots where you pay on your cell phone, self-check-outs at the grocery store and any number of automated processes that no longer require human presence. Or if the church were to get into the act, what would we automate in our Christian communities? We already have automatic withdrawal for the offering. I’m sure someone has designed a drive-through church: drive up, insert your membership card, register your attendance, request a prayer, deduct your offering, download the sermon (maybe, maybe not), select a blessing and leave. We could get by with a smaller parking lot, operate out of a small office, and rent out most of the church-building for indoor soccer on Sunday mornings.
But I guess not. We’re not trying to facilitate convenience and efficiency; we’re trying to build a community; we’re trying to follow Jesus. We believe in meeting each other face to face, even when we’re not getting along. We believe in the value of each person, not for the purpose of promoting individualism, but for the purpose of receiving each person’s gifts for the benefit of the whole community. I don’t know about you, but I find this a very big challenge. It’s so much easier to look after one’s own interests and let other people look after theirs. And when we allow this individualistic process to continue to its natural conclusion, we end up with a whole lot of individuals more or less isolated from one another, doing their own thing. Alienation sets in. Emotional deprivation sets in. It’s everyone for himself or herself, and the devil take the hindmost.
When I was in Peru, I met a woman who works for a non-government agency in Lima. Her name is Doris. She’s a Peruvian. She’s a lawyer and she has studied in Peru, the US and the Netherlands. She speaks good English – lucky for me, because my Spanish is very rudimentary. Although Doris, being a Peruvian, has very good manners and she said my Spanish was good; she even said my pronunciation was good. Doris doesn’t practice law any more because when she lived in the south of the country as a young woman, she was asked to do a consultation about a mining company operating on the top of a nearby mountain. I don’t know why mining companies operate on the tops of mountains, but all the ones I heard of in Peru are at the tops of mountains. That must be where the gold is. Doris did this study and managed to prove that the company was polluting and tearing up the local watershed. She discovered a great passion for this work, and pursued the project to its conclusion, and was able to stop the company from ruining the watershed. That experience changed her life. She became an advocate for justice – which is what lawyers are actually supposed to be – and an activist on environmental issues. One day early this month I went with Doris to a small town in the Andes Mountains where the school children were having a fiesta – it was Environment Week and their subject was water. Doris the lawyer, the environmental activist and rather sophisticated city-dweller, was delighted to see the signs that children had made. The signs announced in various ways that “water is life” and Doris told me several times how much she appreciated the thinking that created those signs. We paraded all around town carrying banners and signs promoting the responsible use of water. I was pleased to be part of it because one of the organizations behind this environmental project is Canadian Lutheran World Relief.
Doris is a Christian, a Roman Catholic, though she objects to the reactionary form of leadership in her parish in Lima and she refuses to go to church these days. However, I suspect that even as a reluctant church-goer, she still manages to be a serious follower of Jesus, because she takes to heart Jesus’ command to give “a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple”. My Bible commentary on this passage includes this statement: “…if God will reward one who gives a cup of cold water…how much more will [God] reward one who installs an entire city water system.”[1] It is evidence of righteousness to be concerned about the quality of drinking water. Jesus promises to reward those who care about the quality of drinking water and take steps to make sure the little ones get good water. To care about water is to care about life. To care about life is to serve others. It’s the work of prophets to tell the truth about what’s happening in our world. It’s the work of witnesses to lay their lives on the line for the truth; it’s the work of disciples to do the practical work of caring for the little ones, to offer a cup of cold water to those who are thirsty. This is the Christian community at work: face-to-face encounters between those in need and those who have the capacity to help. This is what I think Jesus means by taking up the cross: ordering your life to meet the needs of those around you. It’s not rocket science; it’s not a great mystery - it’s discipleship; it’s service.
[1] The New Jerome Biblical Commentary, Geoffrey Chapman, London: 1989, p. 652.
Jesus is talking to his disciples and making the most challenging demand of all his teachings: “…whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me.” Doesn’t your heart quake when you hear those words, fearing that in fact you are not capable of carrying the cross? Mine certainly does. But not to be hopeless: I believe that when the time comes, God gives us the courage and the capability to do what we are called upon to do…emphasis upon “when the time comes”. We don’t get a sort of generic ability to carry the cross; we only get a specific ability to carry the cross, when it becomes necessary. So don’t worry about whether you can do it. When the time comes, you will be able to do it.
And then Jesus speaks these strange words that form our Gospel text today. What on earth does he mean? My trusty Bible commentary suggests that this passage reflects the structure of the Christian community to which Matthew belonged. It is comprised of “little ones” – those who are uneducated and in need of assistance and leadership, of “righteous persons” – possibly those who have suffered persecution and who remain in the community as honoured witnesses, of “prophets” – those who are entrusted with the responsibility to teach, and Jesus himself, representing God who is also present in the community. All truth and authority in this community derives from God, through Jesus, to the prophets, to the witnesses who have laid their lives on the line – that is, carried their cross – to the little ones…the young, the needy, the sick. The disciples, presumably, fit into the category of prophets.
The function of the Christian community is to welcome – welcome the witnesses, welcome the prophets, welcome the little ones, and by so doing, welcome Jesus, and by so doing, welcome God. How can it be this simple? I don’t think it’s simple to welcome anybody. It takes openness, being willing to contemplate change. It takes generosity, looking beyond yourself and your own interests. It takes preparation and hard work, offering hospitality, sharing your space and your goods. Mostly it takes understanding of the value of community and willingness to build that rather than your own little empire. It takes trust, letting go of personal control of your environment and allowing others not only to come in but to use it and occupy it. Can’t you feel your mind and your heart being painfully pried open at the thought? Wouldn’t you prefer to use and occupy your own space, enjoy privacy and protect your own belongings? That’s individualism, one of the highest values of the western world. It’s not a value that Jesus would have held, nor the disciples, nor much of our present world – occupied by the “little ones” who do not have the luxury of privacy or individualism. I thought of that often in Peru while riding on a local van or bus, crammed in with the farmers taking their goods to the market. I was just glad there weren’t any pigs or chickens on the bus – at least not as far as I knew. Or if there were, they were likely in crates or sacks on the roof. Inside the bus, there certainly were loads of vegetables, pails of milk, and fodder for animals. And on the way back to the village there were pails of slop from restaurants being taken home to feed the pigs. Aren’t we fortunate that we don’t have to put up with that kind of invasion of our comfortable private space on a daily basis?
But maybe it’s not the way it should be. This week on the radio I’ve heard discussions about banning any more “drive-throughs” in Calgary. The city alderman who is promoting the idea says that drive-throughs are a menace because they make it unnecessary for people to encounter one another – we order giant cups of coffee and go on our way. Social contact is practically nil – we don’t even have to see the face of the person who pours our coffee. It seems like a minor concern; while we’re at it maybe we could also ban automatic teller machines, parking lots where you pay on your cell phone, self-check-outs at the grocery store and any number of automated processes that no longer require human presence. Or if the church were to get into the act, what would we automate in our Christian communities? We already have automatic withdrawal for the offering. I’m sure someone has designed a drive-through church: drive up, insert your membership card, register your attendance, request a prayer, deduct your offering, download the sermon (maybe, maybe not), select a blessing and leave. We could get by with a smaller parking lot, operate out of a small office, and rent out most of the church-building for indoor soccer on Sunday mornings.
But I guess not. We’re not trying to facilitate convenience and efficiency; we’re trying to build a community; we’re trying to follow Jesus. We believe in meeting each other face to face, even when we’re not getting along. We believe in the value of each person, not for the purpose of promoting individualism, but for the purpose of receiving each person’s gifts for the benefit of the whole community. I don’t know about you, but I find this a very big challenge. It’s so much easier to look after one’s own interests and let other people look after theirs. And when we allow this individualistic process to continue to its natural conclusion, we end up with a whole lot of individuals more or less isolated from one another, doing their own thing. Alienation sets in. Emotional deprivation sets in. It’s everyone for himself or herself, and the devil take the hindmost.
When I was in Peru, I met a woman who works for a non-government agency in Lima. Her name is Doris. She’s a Peruvian. She’s a lawyer and she has studied in Peru, the US and the Netherlands. She speaks good English – lucky for me, because my Spanish is very rudimentary. Although Doris, being a Peruvian, has very good manners and she said my Spanish was good; she even said my pronunciation was good. Doris doesn’t practice law any more because when she lived in the south of the country as a young woman, she was asked to do a consultation about a mining company operating on the top of a nearby mountain. I don’t know why mining companies operate on the tops of mountains, but all the ones I heard of in Peru are at the tops of mountains. That must be where the gold is. Doris did this study and managed to prove that the company was polluting and tearing up the local watershed. She discovered a great passion for this work, and pursued the project to its conclusion, and was able to stop the company from ruining the watershed. That experience changed her life. She became an advocate for justice – which is what lawyers are actually supposed to be – and an activist on environmental issues. One day early this month I went with Doris to a small town in the Andes Mountains where the school children were having a fiesta – it was Environment Week and their subject was water. Doris the lawyer, the environmental activist and rather sophisticated city-dweller, was delighted to see the signs that children had made. The signs announced in various ways that “water is life” and Doris told me several times how much she appreciated the thinking that created those signs. We paraded all around town carrying banners and signs promoting the responsible use of water. I was pleased to be part of it because one of the organizations behind this environmental project is Canadian Lutheran World Relief.
Doris is a Christian, a Roman Catholic, though she objects to the reactionary form of leadership in her parish in Lima and she refuses to go to church these days. However, I suspect that even as a reluctant church-goer, she still manages to be a serious follower of Jesus, because she takes to heart Jesus’ command to give “a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple”. My Bible commentary on this passage includes this statement: “…if God will reward one who gives a cup of cold water…how much more will [God] reward one who installs an entire city water system.”[1] It is evidence of righteousness to be concerned about the quality of drinking water. Jesus promises to reward those who care about the quality of drinking water and take steps to make sure the little ones get good water. To care about water is to care about life. To care about life is to serve others. It’s the work of prophets to tell the truth about what’s happening in our world. It’s the work of witnesses to lay their lives on the line for the truth; it’s the work of disciples to do the practical work of caring for the little ones, to offer a cup of cold water to those who are thirsty. This is the Christian community at work: face-to-face encounters between those in need and those who have the capacity to help. This is what I think Jesus means by taking up the cross: ordering your life to meet the needs of those around you. It’s not rocket science; it’s not a great mystery - it’s discipleship; it’s service.
[1] The New Jerome Biblical Commentary, Geoffrey Chapman, London: 1989, p. 652.
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