Sunday: 15th Sunday after Pentecost 18C
Reading: Luke 14:25-33
Preacher: S. James Steen

My friend Joe has been having a difficult time with his marriage. At the same time, he has neglected his church where he used to be deeply involved. You might say that Joe has been going through a delayed adolescence. At least that's my diagnosis. Recently, recognizing that the state of his marriage was becoming extremely precarious and that he might end up alone, Joe told me that he was going to get back into the church and renew his relationship with Jesus. You might be surprised to hear that I told him, only slightly tongue in cheek, that I suspected Jesus would be more concerned about his relationship with his wife than with Jesus at this moment.

Years ago I had a parishioner who was diagnosed with a virulent form of cancer. He was fortunate to get the very best medical treatment available. One day he called me and asked if I would drop by for a visit. When we got together, Bill told me that, to his amazement, he was in remission and there was no sign of cancer. Bill - who was a great guy, but very worldly and not very pious - then said he had decided that from that day forward he would never miss being in church on Sundays, not once! He even said that this was part of a bargain he was making with God. I said, "Maybe you will do this, but maybe you won't." His resolve lasted only a few weeks.

Earlier this year, a British News Service carried a story with a headline that read, "Prisoner Sues God." The story read, "A Romanian prisoner is suing God for failing to save him from the Devil. The inmate...accused God of "cheating, abuse, and traffic[king in] influence." His complaint reads: "I, the undersigned Pavel M, currently...serving a 20 years sentence for murder, request legal action against God, resident in Heaven, and represented here by the Romanian Orthodox Church, for committing the following crimes: cheating, concealment, abuse...taking bribes and traffic[king in] influence."

The inmate argued that his baptism was a contract between him and God who was supposed to keep the Devil away and keep him out of trouble.

He added: "God even claimed and received from me various goods and prayers in exchange for forgiveness and the promise that I would be rid of problems and have a better life. But on the contrary I was left in [the] Devil's hands."

The complaint was sent to [the] Court of Justice and forwarded to the prosecutor's office. But prosecutors said it would probably be dropped, and [anyway,] they were unable to subpoena God to court." 1

There is something so seductive about reducing religious experience to a quid pro quo: if I make the right choices God will make everything okay. Equally seductive is the notion of the quick fix. If I follow the right formula, not only will my life be the way I want it to be; it will happen right away. My problems will go away and I will be happy in no time. Like Pavel, most - if not all - of us don't want to serve our time; and we'd rather not have to spend serious energy doing the hard work of introspection and relationship building.

When I read today's Gospel passage from Luke, I was puzzled. It felt disjointed. What does taking up one's cross or putting Jesus ahead of one's family have to do with building a tower or taking an army to war? That is, I was puzzled until I understood that you have to read the first part of the passage in light of the second. Yes, becoming a disciple of Jesus is a wonderful thing. Enthusiasm has its place; but be wary of jumping in too quickly with the expectation of instant and lasting results.

Luke tells us that only a fool would begin building a tower to guard his property without first figuring how much it will cost. It is only when you have considered the details and ascertained that you have the resources you need, not only to begin, but also the resources to see the project to completion, that you actually begin. Similarly, discipleship involves careful consideration before it is undertaken; and then it requires discipline, not a quick fix approach.

The same is true of a king going to war against another. Only a fool would rush into battle without figuring out his chances for winning: whether he has the wherewithal to succeed, what strategy is likely to pay off, and what has been learned from previous successes and failures that can inform how best to move forward today and in the future.

Then, the passage ends with a shocking zinger: Jesus says, "So therefore, none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions." Although it may seem to come out of left field, this statement is actually consistent with all that has been said before. If you would truly be my disciple, you will have to rid yourself of those objects, attitudes, habits, and other attachments that deny you the freedom to enter wholeheartedly into relationship with me. But that doesn't mean that you just wake up one day and say, "Wow, I'm going to give up everything." Becoming a disciple is the work of a lifetime. It's a journey, step by step, sometimes two forward and one back.

Please allow me to give a small example from my own experience: During the past year, Barbra Goering, one of our Wardens, and I have met twice a week at 7:30 a.m. for centering prayer, a 20-minute period of silence and self emptying, nothing more. I can't imagine a less effective practitioner of centering prayer than I. Being a strong extrovert, I hate being quiet. In centering prayer you are supposed to empty your mind of all thoughts and to create an open spiritual space, if only for 20 minutes. But my mind is flooded by every conceivable thought: what I should be doing right now, whom I forgot to call yesterday, whom I feel anger toward, etc., etc., etc. Yet, after a few months of this frustrating practice, I actually began to sense a change in me, nothing dramatic, just an opening, perhaps a slightly deeper sense of God, at least enough that I want to continue the simple discipline in the fall. And, by the way, if you're interested in joining me, please let me know.

To be honest, if you've come here expecting to become an instant disciple, or to have God take away all your problems and immediately heal you or your relationships, St. Paul & the Redeemer probably isn't the right place for you; and you may be relieved to know that there are plenty of churches where you will feel at home.

On the other hand, if you want to be part of a community that values honest questions and doubts, as well as answers, you may be in the right place. If you think it might benefit you and others close to you to participate in a community that gathers weekly to receive nourishment for the journey from worship, fellowship, and learning, you may be in the right place. And if you believe that becoming whole depends on serving others who are not so fortunate as you, then you may be in the right place.

One of the cornerstones of our Anglican tradition is expressed in the Latin, Lex orandi, lex credendi, literally, "the law of prayer [is] the law of belief." It means that, rather than being a tradition of dogma, we come to understand who we are and whose we are as we worship as a community, week after week, month after month, year after year. This pragmatic approach to theology, as it is sometimes described, frees us from the tyranny of having to believe or to achieve everything instantly, and it affirms that God forms us as we worship, as we rub up against one another, and as we serve. If this understanding attracts you, then you may be in the right place. Amen.

¹"Prisoner sues God," (Leeds, U.K.: Ananova News Service, Ananova Ltd., January 11, 2007), http//www.ananova.com.