Joel D. Kline
September 14, 2003
Highland Ave. Church of the Brethren
The Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost
Several years ago there was a story making its rounds on the internet about a pastor who had a kitten that climbed up a young tree in the back yard, but then was afraid to come back down. The pastor pled with the kitten, and even got a special bowl of milk and other treats to try to coax the kitten down, but still the fearful pet would not budge. Then the pastor got what he was certain was a brilliant idea.
The pastor decided that if he were to tie a rope from the back bumper of his car to the lowest branch of the tree and then slowly drive down the driveway, the tree would bend far enough for him to reach the kitten. Putting the plan into action, the pastor drove a short distance, frequently stopping the car and getting out to check the progress. Eventually he decided that one more little move would do it; the tree would then be bent sufficiently for him to reach the kitten. But as he inched the car forward this last time, the rope snapped! The tree went BOING! And the kitten sailed through the air, over a wooden fence, and out of the pastor’s view.
Of course the pastor felt quite badly about his failed plan and worried about the kitten’s fate. But after quite a search, covering every inch of the surrounding block, checking with all of the nearby neighbors, there was still no sign of the kitten. Finally, the distraught pastor simply prayed, “Lord, I commit this little kitten to your keeping,” then went about his usual business.
Several days later the pastor was at the grocery store, where he encountered a fellow church member. He happened to look into her shopping cart and was amazed to see cat food, knowing the woman well enough to know that she really didn’t like cats. When he asked her why she was buying cat food, she responded, “You’re not going to believe this.” And then she shared that her little girl had been begging for a cat, but the mother steadfastly refused. At last, exasperated by her daughter’s persistent asking, the mother said rather flippantly, “Well, if God gives you a cat, I’ll let you keep it.” And then she told the pastor, “I watched my little girl go out into the yard and, on bended knee, pray for a cat. And really, you won’t believe this, but I saw it with my own eyes. A cat suddenly came flying out of the sky, with its paws spread out, and landed in the grass right in front of my daughter.”
Most of us do not find our prayers answered quite so quickly, and certainly not quite so interestingly! Indeed, for many of us, the journey of faith, the path along the road of discipleship, is far from easy. Certainly that was true of the initial disciples, who, upon hearing Jesus’ simple words of invitation, “Come, follow me,” found themselves drawn in ways they could not fully explain. Something there was about Jesus so compelling that, according to Luke’s Gospel, they “left everything and followed Jesus” (Luke 5:11). And yet, little did the disciples know what that “leaving” would mean; little could they predict where their decision to follow Jesus would lead. But this much soon became clear to the early disciples—that in Jesus they had a tough act to follow!
And so it is for us as well. God’s gracious love, God’s inviting call, comes to us as gift. Yet it is a gift that carries with it a cost. The cost is a willingness to trust, to place ourselves—heart and soul—in the arms of God. The cost, Jesus tells us, is to deny self, take up a cross, and walk in Christ’s footsteps. And should we do that, we little know what that commitment will mean for us over the long haul.
Many years ago I read the account of a simple prayer that has stayed with me. A congregation was beginning a new outreach ministry, and the group who had done a great deal of the legwork now came together to pray for God’s blessing on the fledgling ministry. One member prayed simply, “Lord, we’re standing on tiptoe waiting to see what you’re going to do.” It was a prayer of anticipation, a prayer of trust, a prayer based on the conviction that God does indeed work in us and through us.
Standing on tiptoe. This is what we do when we encounter the grace of God in a direct and personal way, when we find our lives being transformed by the gift of a love that knows no limits, a love that will not let us go. We stand on tiptoe, anxious to see what will unfold in us and around us.
Athol Gill is a Baptist preacher and seminary professor from Australia, who in his book Life on the Road talks about our response to the gracious call to live as followers of Jesus. Gill reminds us,
We are Christians not because of who we are or what we do, but because of who Jesus is and what Jesus does! If only we could believe this, the life and lifestyle of Western Christianity would be radically transformed and churches would again become centers of justice and grace for all. Jesus would again be walking among us, converting our society to the kingdom of God—a kingdom of peace, justice, and freedom for all.
Gill’s words remind us that we do not respond to God’s call on our own strength alone. Indeed, says Gill, “we are Christians not because of who we are or what we do, but because of who Jesus is and what Jesus does!” In Jesus, God takes the initiative to draw us into relationship, to remind us that we are God’s beloved children, created in the very image of God, and to invite us to embark upon life with a new center—life in the kingdom or realm of God.
Problem is, we have difficulty really grasping that grace is not something we must earn, and that discipleship is not about privilege and position, not about status and honor. The initial band of disciples didn’t get it, and we don’t fare much better!
In this morning’s Gospel lesson Jesus asks the first disciples, “Who are others saying that I am?” In other words, Jesus is asking, “How am I being perceived? How do the people understand me and my ministry?” And then Jesus presses yet further, asking the question each of us must consider, “And who do you say that I am?”
Peter, you will remember, speaks for the group, “You are the Messiah. You are the Christ. You are the One who opens us to new understandings, new experiences of life in the realm of God.” It is a moment of great insight, or is it? Peter thought he knew what it means to speak of Jesus as the Messiah, but he soon learns that he has a great deal more to grasp! For immediately after this Great Confession by Peter, Jesus begins to speak of the messiah as a suffering servant who will “be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again” (Mark 8:31).
It is more than Peter can fathom; in fact, it is inconceivable to Peter. What kind of sense does it make to think of the messiah, God’s anointed, as one who must suffer? What earthly good, Peter wonders, can come from suffering, grief, and death? Indeed, to the very end, the Gospel writers tell us, the disciples try to mold Jesus, to fit Jesus into their expectations, rather than allowing Jesus to mold and transform them. That small band of early disciples of Jesus was sincere in the decision to embrace Jesus, but the disciples could not make sense of who Jesus is and what Jesus was doing.
Discipleship—following Jesus—is about responsibility, about becoming servants, about embracing Christ’s model of self-giving love, about using the gifts we have been given for building up the body of Christ and for inviting others to come see where the journey of faith might lead them. Discipleship is about a new way of living, a new perspective towards life that may well lead us into surprising experiences and surprising opportunities to live and share our faith. In Jesus we have a tough act to follow, but we are able to do so because Christ’s Spirit graces us, Christ’s Spirit transforms us, Christ’s Spirit empowers us.
This past week was a time when we were especially mindful of the tragic events two years ago on September 11. There were frequent calls not to forget, but all too often those calls seemed to focus on the thirst for revenge. Is there an alternative to the way of violence?
Consider the story of the families of two women from Boston who, along with the little girl of one of them, had planned a vacation to Los Angeles two years ago. Initially, all three were scheduled for the same flight, but one of the women decided to use her husband’s frequent flyer miles, and she was placed on a separate flight. As it turned out, the woman with the little girl was on the plane that hit the first tower of the World Trade Center, and her best friend was on the second plane. Their families, even in the midst of grief beyond measure, came together and made the decision to establish a foundation in the little girl’s name that would teach peace, tolerance, and understanding to children here in our country. I do not know any specifics about the faith of these family members, but I wonder if they did not find themselves asking whether God would not want more from them than revenge. Could it be that the families responded not out of their own capacities, but God’s?
Jesus asserts that “those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it” (Mark 8:34-35). Tough words, but the One who challenges us to embrace this path of self-giving love models that very lifestyle for us, being obedient—as the apostle Paul asserts—even unto death (Philippians 2). And in like manner, Jesus graces us, Jesus empowers us, to put on a new way of living—the way of compassion, the way of justice, the way of peace, the way of grace.
Athol Gill reminds us that, as we embrace the wondrous love of God, the church shall be transformed and become centers of grace and justice for all. It will be as if Jesus is indeed once again walking among us. How then can we not stand on tiptoe, eager to see where the grace of God shall lead us? How then can we not become a center of justice, hope, and peace?
Jesus is indeed a tough act to follow. But thanks be to God, we are not dependent on our own strength, our own scheming, alone. Much more, we are empowered by a love that continues to astound and amaze us. Shall we not stand on tiptoe, waiting to see what God will do, in us, among us, and through us? Amen.
O Lord our God, how excellent is your name in all the earth!
We marvel at the beauty and power of your creation—majestic sunrises and sunsets, refreshing rain, changing seasons, bountiful harvests.
Not only are you Creator of the universe and all its wonders, you are also Creator of each one of us, with our unique gifts and quirks, our distinctive personalities and hopes and dreams. And out of our individuality, you call us, O God, into community.
With unceasing love and unmerited grace, you invite us, you encourage us, to become so much more than we think we can be, on our own strength alone. You call us, O God, to be the church—to be your people, a household of faith, a community of reconciliation, a body of peacemakers, citizens of your kingdom.
Holy God, send your Spirit among us in these moments of quietness, that we might grow in faith, that we might live and serve as pilgrims on a journey of faith with you at the center of all we say and do.
Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer, hear us now as we remember those in special need of your healing touch and of our support. We pray for those among us who are grieving the loss of someone special in their lives…those who have been hospitalized or who are anticipating hospitalization…those who bear the scars of broken hearts…those who feel as if they’ve lost their way…those who yearn for your guidance as they face the future.
Whatever our need, O God of matchless grace, place a song in our hearts. Fill us with joy and gratitude for the gift of life. Guide us in paths of peace. And empower us with your Spirit to pray and to work for justice, for the coming of that day when swords shall be beaten into plowshares and all creation lives together in dignity, righteousness and peace. In the precious name of Jesus we pray. Amen.