To read endnotes, click on the the note number, then click on the to return to your place in the text.
Pam Laing was paired with a good friend of hers who
immediately offered to state a problem. She was working as a
layperson in a church, with the responsibility of family
programming. She said she gets really upset when people say that
the church is very important to them, yet immediately say that
they can't help with a specific program or emphasis because they
have to do something which is more important. Her examples were,
"I really think that the children are a top priority for the
church, but I cannot teach Sunday School because that is the
morning that my children sleep in, since they've been up late the
night before." Or, "I think that family outings or fellowship
time is important, but I cannot come to the picnic because my son
has baseball practice that day." She gave several other
examples, all of which are excuses similar to those every church
worker has received. After listening to her, Pam responded as
the leader had asked, "That is your problem, what is your real
concern?"
Her response was, "My concern is that I wish we could kick
all the "buts" out of the church!" She then went on to explain
that grammatically, anytime a sentence contains the word "but"
that it entirely negates what was said before.(1)
You can see where this is leading - our Gospel lesson.
Jesus has begun his ultimate journey: as the text has it, "he set
his face to go to Jerusalem." The cross. Nothing would
interfere. Not an inhospitable Samaritan village. Not angry
followers who would call down lightning strikes to avenge the
insult. Someone came along who indicated an enthusiastic desire
to accompany him: "I will follow you wherever you go." There is
the hint of a raised eyebrow in Jesus' reply: "You want to follow
me? Really? Really? Do you know what that might mean? 'Foxes
have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man
has nowhere to lay his head.' In other words, are you ready to
do without? Just to follow me? Really?"
Another joined the march. Jesus invited him, "Follow me."
BUT he said, "first, let me go and bury my father."
Strange reply from Jesus: "Let the dead bury their own dead;
but as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God." How are we
to understand such a curious answer? First, we can eliminate the
idea that Jesus is suggesting that the man abandon the funeral
arrangements for his Dad who has just passed away. Had Dad just
died, the young man would not have had time to be on the road
with Jesus anyway - the tradition of the culture (and the
practical necessity forced by living in a hot climate) was to
proceed to burial within 24 hours after death. Junior was not
being instructed to do something to which anyone with an ounce of
sensitivity would have objected. Instead, we should understand
the excuse as being, "Lord, I will follow you, BUT let me get all
family obligations out of the way first." Even that does not
sound especially unreasonable. However, the question arises as
to when will all the obligations be "out of the way?" If that
man's family is anything like MY family, the answer could well be
NEVER.
Still, the "Let the dead bury their own dead" response
sounds a bit harsh. Perhaps we should understand it in the same
way as Jesus' instruction to pluck out our eye out or cut off our
hand if we look at something or touch something we shouldn't(2) - a
bit of Semitic hyperbole that dramatizes a point but is not meant
to be taken literally.(3) SERIOUSLY, but not literally.
Now another says he wants to come along. "I will follow
you, Lord; BUT let me first say farewell to those at my home."
Jesus response draws on a bit of conventional country wisdom: "No
one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the
kingdom of God." Every farmer will tell you that no one can plow
a straight furrow without keeping the eyes straight ahead.
Jesus' answer also draws upon a story with which people of
faith would have been familiar: the call of the prophet Elisha.(4)
God had told Elijah to anoint this young man as his successor as
prophet to the nation of Israel. Elijah journeys to the town of
Abel-meholah. He finds his spiritual heir-apparent plowing in
the field (and, no doubt, keeping his eyes straight ahead in the
process), and lets Elisha know of his divine selection by placing
his own cloak, the symbol of the prophetic office, on the young
man's shoulders. Elisha's response? "Let me kiss my father and
my mother, and then I will follow you." Sound familiar?
Scripture never says whether Elisha actually did as he had
suggested (I suspect he did), but we do learn of the young man's
eventual unswerving loyalty and the incredible power that God
gave him for his work. This was a story that Jesus' audience
that day knew well. Elisha had his priorities in order and God
blessed in literally miraculous ways.
This was Jesus' message that day: get your priorities
straight. Then (and only then) will you be ready for God to rule
in your life.
Now, move that story up a bit. Fast-forward the tape to
1998. Jesus' invitation to "Follow me" is offered again. The
temptation is to respond the same way our ancient friends did.
"Lord, I'll be glad to follow, but...but...but... There are so
many things that call to us. GOOD things - family, friends,
work, and on and on and on. The choices that confronted the
would-be disciples on the road were not between good and evil.
The choices were between two "goods." My, my. Some things never
change, do they? "Lord, I will follow, but..."
One of my cyberfriends suggests that the greatest threat to
the gospel is "the good," not "the evil." When we recognize "the
evil" in our lives, we usually want to get rid of it. However,
when we become content with "the good" in our lives, we may fail
to follow Jesus and seek what is "the best."(5) Lord, I will
follow, but...
Is it time to BAN THE BUT'S from your Christian journey?
Yes, they come SO easily. Worship? But Sunday is our family
day. Sunday School? But this is the only day I get to catch up
on my sleep. Mid-week Bible study? But it's such a rush after
work. Teach? But there are others who could do it just as well.
Serve on a board or committee? But I've done that before. But,
but, but...
The good news is that once the BUT's are done, a real
blessing awaits. I read something this week by a lady named
Jacqueline Townsend called "The Confessions of a Reluctant
Steward."(6) Jacqueline recalls being ambushed on the way out of
church. "Will you do flowers?" She writes:
So I do flowers. You must understand I am not the
artistic type. My idea of a festive centerpiece is
matching salt and pepper shakers. Botanical knowledge
is out of my realm, although I am able to identify a
carnation, thanks to cans from contented cows.
Why couldn't it have been something easy, like
traveling in the belly of a whale? (Jonah and I have a
lot in common, but that's another story.) The worst
part was knowing my name would show up in the schedule.
People would know I was the bi-weekly mishandler of
blooms! On the other hand, it was a little flattering
to be asked (someone noticed I was here) and thought
capable (maybe I could get a book from the library). I
vowed to do my best, at least until I could pawn the
task off on someone else. My schedule revealed I could
squeeze it in if I gave up ironing. It seemed such a
small sacrifice for the church.
As the weeks went by, I found myself looking anew
at the world around me. I noticed when the fireweed
bloomed. My husband would report, "There's some
wonderful fern down by the creek bank." We took walks
looking for wildflowers. I learned to boldly venture
into the cooler at the florist shop in search of lemon
leaves and baby's breath.
Just this week I made the most amazing discovery -
I like doing the flowers. It's not the arrangements
themselves; I'm never quite satisfied. Spending time
in the silent church, either alone or with my husband,
is so refreshing. I peruse the bulletin board and book
table, poke around in the sacristy picking out a vase,
talk to God, maybe sing a little. Today, for no reason
at all I looked in the fridge, just like when I go to
my mom's. It's a little homecoming every other
Saturday. I don't even miss the ironing. Beautiful. Is there a BUT that is hindering your Christian
journey? A BUT that is keeping you from a blessing?
An expert on the subject of time management was speaking to
a group of business students and, to drive home a point, used an
illustration those students will probably never forget. As this
man stood in front of the group of high-powered over-achievers he
said, "Okay, time for a quiz." Then he pulled out a one-gallon,
wide-mouthed Mason jar and set it on a table in front of him.
Then he produced about a dozen fist-sized rocks and carefully
placed them, one at a time, into the jar. When the jar was
filled to the top and no more rocks would fit inside, he asked,
"Is this jar full?"
Everyone in the class said, "Yes."
Then he said, "Really?" He reached under the table and
pulled out a bucket of gravel. Then he dumped some gravel in and
shook the jar, causing pieces of gravel to work themselves down
into the spaces between the big rocks. Then he smiled and asked
the group once more, "Is the jar full?"
By this time the class was onto him. "Probably not," one of
them answered.
"Good!" he replied. And he reached under the table and
brought out a bucket of sand. He started dumping the sand in,
and it went into all the spaces left between the rocks and the
gravel. Once more he asked the question, "Is this jar full?"
"No!" the class shouted.
Once again he said, "Good!" Then he grabbed a pitcher of
water and began to pour it in until the jar was filled to the
brim. Then he looked up at the class and asked, "What is the
point of this illustration?"
One eager beaver raised his hand and said, "The point
is, no matter how full your schedule is, if you try really hard,
you can always fit some more things into it!"
"No," the speaker replied, "that's not the point. The truth
this illustration teaches us is this: If you don't put the big
rocks in first, you'll never get them in at all.(7)
Hmm. Jesus says, "Follow me." BIG rock. We respond, "I
will follow you, Lord, but..." Priorities. Get the big rocks in
first. How to make sure the priorities are appropriate? A good
start will be a commitment to BAN THE BUT'S, then all the rest
will fall into place.
Let us pray.
O God, we confess to lives of regularly misplaced
priorities. We genuinely want to do better. That is why we are
here. Help us, for Jesus' sake. Amen!
1. Pam Laing, Wood River, IL, via Ecunet, "Sermonshop 06 28 1998," #31, 6/25/98 2. Matthew 5:29, 30 3. New Interpreter's Bible, electronic edition, disk 2, (Nashville: Abingdon, 1996) 4. 1 Kings 19:19-21 5. Brian Stoffregen, via Ecunet, "Gospel Notes for Next Sunday," #1722, 6/21/98 6. Nancy Curtis, via Ecunet, "Bottom Drawer," #3528, 6/25/98 7. Karel Hanhart, First and Riverside Churches, Merrill Wisconsin, via Ecunet,
"Sermonshop 1998 06 28," #40, 6/26/98
I couldn't figure any graceful way out of this
one. It didn't seem the right moment to point out that
I was flat broke in both the time and talent
department. I was trapped. I spoke the word so many
dare not say: "Sure."

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