All In Commitment

Pentecost 13 Sermon Year C
September 8, 2019
St. Michael’s Episcopal Church
The Rev. Canon Michael J. Horvath
Luke 14:25-33

I’ve been lucky in my life to be able to engage in various sports and activities no matter where I’ve lived, and they have played an integral part in my wellbeing and self care.  I’ve been an avid, albeit very slow runner, a hot yoga maniac, a tennis enthusiast, and, most recently, even tried my hand at sailing in this lovely harbor many of us call home.  But the one activity that I love more than anything else is horseback riding.  Not of a fancy variety, just hacking around and jumping.  There is something so relational about riding.  Horse and rider have to have a deep level of trust and respect between them.  I train with caring instructors who have been able to drill into my thick skull enough proficiency to make riding a joy for me, and, hopefully, my horse.

I think the joy I experience comes from the fact that for that hour or two that I’m in the saddle, my entire focus is on the horse.  Everything else that’s going on in my life, any worry or concern that is occupying my brain takes a back seat.   You see, being on a horse requires an “all in” commitment to the horse.  One of my dearest friends, who was also my first instructor, imparted an important piece of horse wisdom to me early on.  She said that the privilege that a horse gives us of allowing someone to get on its back requires that the horse becomes their number one priority.  If a rider is too scared or timid, they fail to make a connection with the horse and will become unseated.  If the rider is too aggressive, on the other hand, the horse will either try to match that aggressiveness, or get scared of them and will do whatever it can to get the rider off of its back.  It’s all about the horse, the rider comes second.  It is an “all in” commitment.  And it demands nothing less.  You can’t be a casual horse rider.

To be honest, when I read today’s Gospel’s passage in preparation for my sermon, I immediately looked at the other readings to see if I could preach from one of them instead.  Today’s Gospel is a passage that doesn’t endear itself to our hearts or ears.  Especially with Jesus’s searing use of the word “hate,” or the level of commitment Jesus asks of us in such stark terms.  In both instances, Jesus is asking the large crowd that is following him and us to decide how much we value our relationship with him.   What are we willing to sacrifice in order to be a disciple, a follower of Christ?

This idea of sacrifice is not new, and it’s not even particular to the Christian Church.  In one way or another, we are always making sacrifices.  With kids going back to school last week, I think of the parents who are back to sacrificing the little time they have in the morning to get their children up and ready for school.  I think of men and women who work long hours or multiple jobs in order to provide for their families.  I think of husbands and wives who lovingly and willingly sacrifice their time in caring for an ill or ailing spouse.  These are all things worth sacrificing for, believe me.

What makes this Gospel passage so challenging is that Jesus is asking us where we prioritize him amongst our sacrifices.  Do we manage to fit him in on a Sunday?  Does he take second place when it comes to deciding between worship and Sunday kids soccer games?  Are we really living a life of discipleship to Christ or are we simply Causal Christians?

It’s no easy feat being Jesus’s disciple. He lays out three conditions for that discipleship:  First, you must hate your own father and mother and wife and children and brother and sister.  Second, you need to be able to carry the cross that Jesus carried.  Third, you have to give up all your possessions.  Now, on the surface these are intentionally strong statements, and their harshness hasn’t softened any with age, I imagine.  The reality, however, also remains true:  The Cost of Discipleship is all-in commitment.

In telling us to “hate” our families, Jesus doesn’t call for a negative emotional approach with our loved ones.  Instead, Jesus is saying that the net effect of prioritizing him above all others will seem like a rejection of all those whom in the normal course of our lives we love.  The image of the cross takes us to the point of self-sacrifice, offering up what we consider most important to us for the sake of the greater something that a life in Christ promises.  And what is that cross that we’re to bear? What are we to sacrifice and lose in order to find?  In short, everything.  Jesus is asking us to be willing to offer up everything, ourselves included, as he gave up his own life for us.  Indeed, we should consider our entire lives as an offering to Christ in thanksgiving for our salvation.

And what we need to sacrifice, what possessions one person needs to get rid of may be different from another – it may mean our reputation, our wealth, our comfort.  It’s a matter, Jesus assures us, of priority.  No right-minded person seeks to hate themselves or their family, but even in those relationships Christ must come first.  Who or what would you deny Christ for?  The longer we meditate on that question, the closer we are to understanding the “all in” commitment Jesus is asking of us.  Are we “all in” or are we Casual Christians?

Like being a casual horse rider, being a Casual Christian doesn’t get one very far.  It doesn’t draw one any closer to the full joy of life in Christ.    For example, a Casual Christian can attend as many Sunday soccer games as they want instead of worshiping in community.  A Casual Christian can create wealth off the backs of underpaid and uninsured workers and say that is just how capitalism is supposed to work.  A Casual Christian can start to believe that there are some lives in this country that matter more than others.  It's so much easier being a Casual Christian, but far less transformative.

So discipleship is hard, difficult work, but there’s something else we can’t lose sight of.  Back to riding for a minute: My first horse was a mare named Moonshine.  She was the size of a sofa and her favorite food was bagels, she was crazy for them.  The most wonderful thing about her was that as I was learning to ride, to jump higher and higher, and to gallop over rough terrain, she always took care of me.  Whenever I lost my balance or accidentally yanked at the reins, she always took it in stride.  When I wasn’t yet making her my priority, she was already making me her priority.  In our faith, that’s called grace, the free gift from God.  We’re not going to get this discipleship thing right all the time or even most of the time, but we can still get on with the work that God has given us to do in this world.  God is there below us, above us, around us – when we’re bucked off by life, when we lose our stirrup, when the jump seems too high.  God’s grace will take it in stride, as long as we are willing to travel down the same path. We are God’s priority, even when God is not yet ours.   Amen.