Summer Sermon Series 2015 – June 7, 2015

Summer Sermon Series 2015 – June 7, 2015

Summer Sermon Series 2015        Plowing the Fields
June 7, 2015
Luther Memorial Church
 The Rev. Julie G. Hutson
Job 17: 1-16  +  Hebrews 12: 1-3  +  Luke 9: 57-62 

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus the Christ.  Amen.

          Many of you know by now that Bruce and I are moving into a new home later this summer.  Since we are downsizing from 2800 square feet to 875 square feet, this means that we have found ourselves going through a lot of stuff that we’ve kept because….well, I’m not sure why we’ve kept it.  Some things we’ve kept because they have great sentimental value – baby clothes and dried bouquets and grandma’s tea service.  Other things we’ve kept because we might need them again someday.  Maybe we’ll have the occasion to wear the teal bridesmaids dress or the really high heeled sparkly shoes (both are mine) or the snowboard or the tent that sleeps 4 (those are Bruce’s.)   Still other things we’ve held onto just out of sheer attrition.  We just never bothered to do anything else with them.

Today we begin a sermon series for the month of June.  The genesis for this series is the Gospel reading for today from Luke 9.  Specifically, verse 62:  “Jesus answered, ‘Whoever puts a hand to the plow but keeps looking back is unfit for the reign of God.’”

Jesus speaks these words to a third traveler that he meets along the way.  But what about those first travelers?  The first traveler says to Jesus “I’ll follow you wherever you go” to which Jesus replies “Foxes have lairs, the birds of the sky have nests, but the Chosen One has nowhere to rest.”  In other words, following Jesus means following someone who has no final destination….the work is never completely accomplished….there is always more ahead.  Following Jesus means that we do not come to a place or a time when we can check it off of a list!  Done!  We’ve done all we can.  We can rest now.  Our work is complete.  The Chosen One, Jesus, has nowhere to rest.  If we follow him, neither will we.

When Jesus encounters a second traveler, he makes the first move and tries out his classic discipleship pick up line: “Follow me.”  The traveler responds that he would first like to bury his father.  Jesus is unimpressed and says that the dead can bury the dead, but that the followers of Jesus should go and proclaim the kingdom of God everywhere.  Whenever I consider this exchange I think that Jesus is being pretty cold hearted.  But when we read the text more closely we find that we don’t actually know if the traveler’s father is dead.  Maybe the traveler simply means that he can’t leave his family at this point, so following Jesus will have to wait for a more convenient time.   Jesus doesn’t think much of this idea.  When Jesus calls the traveler, or when Jesus calls us, the call is not to wait until the time is more convenient, not to wait until we’ve come to the death of something or someone or some dream or some decade or some decision.  When Jesus calls, it is a call to us to go and proclaim the kingdom of God everywhere.

That everywhere piece is hard too.  I’d really just like to proclaim the kingdom of God in places where I know it will be well received.  In places where they will like me and listen to my proclamation.  Everywhere implies unfamiliar territory.  Everywhere implies places we’ve never been, perhaps even places we’ve never imagined.   But proclaim we must.  We proclaim in our speech, with our lives, in our decision making, in our stewardship – what we do with what we have.  We proclaim Jesus when we stand against injustice and oppression.  And if we think that injustice and oppression don’t exist close at hand, we would do well to look again.

The third traveler approaches Jesus, perhaps overhearing the response of the one Jesus called.  This final traveler in the story today says: “I’ll be your follower, Rabbi, but first let me say goodbye to my people at home.”  This is a perfectly reasonable request.  No one likes to leave, especially leave home, without saying goodbye.  And it is to this traveler that Jesus speaks this word: “Whoever puts a hand to the plow but keeps looking back is unfit for the reign of God.”

Not many of us are familiar with hand plows.  But here’s what some research revealed about them:  When you are using a hand plow, if you look behind you, you will no longer plow good rows for planting.  They will be come crooked and uneven.  A hand on a plow must be steady and firm and the gaze must always be forward.  That’s the only way there will be any progress.

Cynthia Moe-Lobeda, the newly named professor of ethics at Pacific Lutheran Theological Seminary, a brilliant theologian, respected author,  and niece of Mary Walters, uses a different illustration for the same idea, one more accessible for us in 2015.  She says that it’s like trying to drive a car while only looking in the rear view mirror.  It can’t be done.  Oh, you need to glance back there from time to time, but to make any forward progress, to get where you are going, you must consistently look forward.

Scripture is filled with stories of people and entire nations who, when they looked back, when they took their eyes away from where God was leading them, found themselves wandering in desert land for forty years.

It is so tempting to spend most of our time looking back.  We can see where we’ve been and be proud of that, perhaps rightfully so.  In my case I can look through at least 40 pieces of school work and art work from every year of Greg, Robert, and Taylor’s childhood.  But if I only spend time  looking  at those momentoes, I will miss the very people they are today.  I will miss the wondrous ways they have grown and I will miss the struggles they are facing and maybe I will miss the chance to be present with them in those struggles.   If I only look at their art work from third grade I will miss the chance to do right by them now.

And if I don’t give up those silver high heels that I will never wear again, maybe some person who can pick them up for $2 at Value Village will miss the chance to feel like Cinderella in them.  If I hang onto what I no longer need, someone else misses out because I couldn’t let go.  If I hang on to what I no longer need, someone else misses out because I couldn’t let go.

And all of those other things that are cluttering up our closets and our lives?  Moving them and rearranging them just takes up time I could use doing something much more rewarding.

The very same thing is true of the Church.  And it is true for us in this congregation.  It is one thing for us to celebrate our history – but it is another thing to allow that looking back to keep us from looking forward.  The odds that we will ever be the kind of congregation we were in 1968 or 1978 or 1988 are slim to none.  But that doesn’t mean that we won’t be something equally faithful and equally essential to God’s mission in the world, and much better suited for 2018.  But if all we are doing is looking through our momentoes we are going to miss the chance to do it.  If we are holding on to a parking lot or a part of a building or a piece of land because we might need it again someday, we miss the chance for it to be used in other ways, by other people, for the glory of God.

We are travelers on the road and Jesus is walking with us.  Follow me, he says.  If we imagine that we will follow him to a settled place where we can finally rest on our laurels and be proud of where we’ve been, we forget that Scripture never ever defines a place that Jesus called home.  And if say that we’d follow but only if the time is right – only if the plan is what we want and when we want it and how we envision it for our church – well, then we forget that this is not our church.   It is Christ’s church.  And if we say that we’ll be the ones to follow but first we want to look one more time at our past,  these words of Jesus ring in our ears: “Whoever puts a hand to the plow but keeps looking back is unfit for the reign of God.”

Hear what the Spirit is saying to God’s people.  Amen.