I preached this sermon on Saturday, September 2 and Sunday, September 3 on the RCL readings for the thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost (Lectionary 22) at Trinity Lutheran Church in Connellsville.
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It was slow going. The crowd seemed to press in from every
side and it was impossible to see what was ahead. I had been leading, or really
Wade had, strapped to the front of me as we tried to push through the mass of
people, constantly in flux. Little Kailea, eight years old, was behind me, and
her mom, Mandy, behind her. We huddled in a line and pushed forward, shuffling through
the endless crowds of people on the mall in Washington, D.C., at the Women’s
March back in January.
At a corner, we met up with a line of people going the same
direction we intended to go. It created a current of sorts, and one man made
space for us to fall in line. Get behind me, he said, and we’ll get there. It
was such a relief. The crowd wasn’t any smaller, but I no longer had to be the
one pressing forward, arms up to cushion the baby, the sleeves of my rain
jacket helping us slide through the people. I could rest, in a way, letting
someone else do the work of navigating, blazing a trail and showing us where
and how to go.
I think this is what Jesus means when he says to Peter, “Get
behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; for you are setting your
mind not on divine things but on human things.” For all his good intentions,
Peter just isn’t meant to be the one blazing the trail, isn’t yet qualified to
determine what the path of discipleship should be.
See, when Peter confessed that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son
of the living God, he did so with a few expectations for what that would look
like. The Messiah would be powerful, and great. The Messiah would restore Israel
to its rightful place; not an oppressed people, but a ruling people.
And so, understandably, Peter is alarmed and confused and
reactive when he hears about Jesus’ version of the Messiah. The Messiah Jesus
envisions himself to be is one who “must go to Jerusalem and undergo great
suffering at the hands of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be
killed, and on the third day be raised.” “God forbid it, Lord! This must never happen
to you.”
It’s tempting to want to steer things our way. Away from
suffering. Away from death. Away from sacrifice, and tough decisions, and
uncomfortable and unpopular practices like speaking up against the status quo
or raising our voices on behalf of the vulnerable.
This temptation is what Satan played on earlier in Matthew’s
Gospel, at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry. Steer things your way, Jesus. I’ll
give you power, and prestige, and satisfy the different hungers you’re
experiencing. It’s not a big deal, all you have to do is bow down and worship
me.
But, serving himself and seeking personal gain is not what
Jesus was called to do. It’s not what disciples are called to do. Fall in line,
Satan. Fall in line, disciples. There’s only one leader here, and it ain’t you.
Jesus tells Peter, and us: “If any want to become my
followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.”
Deny yourself, Jesus says. It’s not what we want, but what
God intends. We are called to set our minds not on human things, but on divine
things. We are called to take the long view, to trust God’s presence with us in
the midst of whatever comes.
Take up your cross, Jesus says. It’s important to note here that
we do not glorify suffering for the sake of suffering. Instead, when we picture
the cross where Jesus died, where the depth of God’s great love for us was
shown, we are reminded that God took what was an instrument of torture, shame,
and death, and turned it into a means of life. And God continues to do this
with our suffering, too. Even at our lowest point, we are never abandoned or
forsaken. Instead, God transforms our suffering, draws us further into
relationship, and fills us with new life.
Follow me, Jesus says. It’s hard to follow from the front.
Instead, we are called to get behind Jesus. To be a disciple is to get in line,
to watch where and how Jesus goes, to follow his example. To follow Jesus is to
be forgiven and forgiving, loved and loving, welcomed and welcoming. Though the
invitation is simple, the way of the cross, the way of discipleship is not an
easy road.
Along the way, we will run into stumbling blocks. Perhaps
the stumbling blocks we find on our path are other people, who want too much
from us, or try to distract us, or treat us badly. Perhaps our tightly held
opinions are stumbling blocks, or our inability to see things any differently
from how we’ve always seen them. Fear can be a stumbling block. Fear of
failure, so we do nothing. Fear of hurting someone’s feelings, so we say
nothing. Fear of being singled out, so we don’t speak up.
Yes, sometimes we are our own worst stumbling block. But the
good news is that discipleship follows salvation, not the other way around.
Discipleship isn’t a list of things we must do to be good enough, not a
checklist for salvation. Instead, discipleship is a response to God’s saving
love for us, undeserved and unearned. God loved us, forgave us, welcomed us,
saved us first. From a place of joy and gratitude we follow, loving and serving
others in the example of Jesus. Though the road of discipleship isn’t an easy
one, we follow the one who promises to lead us through whatever comes. Thanks be to God, Amen.
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