Your Plan to Step Off the Cliff

Sermon for Sept. 7, 2025
Luke 14:25-33

Well, if I were picking Scriptures for the Sunday of our Parish Picnic and fall kick-off, today’s Gospel reading probably wouldn’t have made the cut.  Thanks very much to the editors of the Revised Common Lectionary for making sure we don’t have too much fun today.

The setting for this reading is Jesus apparently riding a wave of popularity.  He’s been healing people, keeping the crowds spellbound with his teaching, taking on the religious leaders – and it’s all working.  Today’s reading begins with Luke saying, “Large crowds were traveling with Jesus” – he’s got ’em right where he wants ’em (14:25).  

So, what does he tell them?  The last thing any of them want to hear: “Whoever does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple.  Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.” (Luke 14:26-27)

That large crowd must have stTiyr ared back at him, befuddled.  “Wait – what are you talking about, Jesus?  Healing and teaching and sticking it to the man – sure, we love all that.  But what’s this about rejecting the people we love, and rejecting the lives we’ve built, and carrying a cross, for God’s sake?”

So, I imagine Jesus explaining it like this:  “You know, it’s not rocket science.  If you’re going to build a house, you shouldn’t start if you don’t know how much it’s going to cost.  If you’re a king going to war, you shouldn’t stumble into a battle against an army twice your size.”

“Sure,” says the crowd.  “What does all that have to with you – and with us?”

“Well,” Jesus says, “this way of life I’m showing you – this healing and freedom and meaning and purpose and deep peace – you don’t think it all comes for free, do you?  Have you ever received anything truly good without it costing you something?  So, along with holding your family ties loosely, here’s another tough requirement: ‘None of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions.’” (Luke 14:33)

<Sigh.> That would’ve looked great on the signs in the yard this morning, right?  “St. Andrew’s Parish Picnic: Have a hotdog, hate your family, and give up all your possessions.”  It’s not exactly a shiny, happy way for us to start the fall program. 

So, as the preacher, I’m thinking, “How do we make our way around this one?”  I could’ve just picked different readings, I guess, but that kind of seems like cheating.

So, let’s look at the text of this Gospel story.  Maybe Jesus doesn’t really mean it.  Maybe the Greek word for hate doesn’t really mean hate, and possessions really refers to something spiritual.

Well, nope.  The Greek word for hate means just what it does for us, the opposite of love.  Plus, we might remember that elsewhere in Scripture, Jesus tells his followers that he didn’t come to bring peace but division, fierce enough to make children turn on their parents and other family members turn on each other (Luke 12:49-53).  

OK.  Well, how about possessions?  Any wiggle room there?  No, the Greek word for possessions means just what it does for us – the stuff we accumulate as we try to build meaning and security on our own terms.  Plus, we might remember that Jesus says the same thing about giving up possessions to two individuals who want to follow him (e.g., Matthew 19:21); and that, in the Book of Acts, the early Church actually decides to live that way, sharing what they have equally, as anyone has need (Luke 2:43-47).

Hmmm.  So, how else can we soften the blow?  How about we write it off to hyperbole?  Now, there, we do find a foothold, at least.  Jesus, the master teacher, certainly worked in hyperbole to make his points, like great communicators of all times.  Abraham Lincoln called the United States “the last, best hope of earth” – a great line and one we still remember, but a claim even the staunchest Union supporter might have said was a little overblown.  Well, Jesus used hyperbole all the time.  When he said, “If your eye causes you to sin, pluck it out,” he wasn’t really advocating self-mutilation (Matthew 5:29).  So, maybe we can write off today’s Gospel to hyperbole…?

Or, maybe, hyperbole is in the ear of the beholder.  The amazing thing about Scripture is that the Holy Spirit can take precisely the same words and use them to tailor messages to each and every person who hears those words.  It’s the blessing of interpretation – and it’s evidence that God’s more interested in reaching each of us as we need to be reached, rather than issuing strict policy statements.

I remember talking with my priest when I was discerning the call to ordained ministry because I worried about what that would do to my family.  Quitting my job, selling our house, losing three years’ income, moving Ann away from her mother, uprooting the kids and setting them up for several future moves – it seemed like a lot to put them through.  But my priest mentioned something about Jesus teaching things like … well, what we heard today.  But she wasn’t saying I should reject my family and become a monk.  She was reminding me that even the best thing, even what you love most, can become an idol if you hold onto it too tightly.  And, she was saying, following Jesus means making hard choices, trusting God deeply, and stepping off the cliff sometimes.

In contrast, I think about what the Holy Spirit led one of my best friends to do in response to this same kind of teaching from Jesus.  This is my aptly named friend Faith, one of my Six Pack of friends from seminary.  After we all graduated and were ordained, Faith served as assistant rector in one church and then was called to serve as rector of another.  She’s a strong, excellent leader, and the parish was growing as it followed her in following Jesus.  But Faith started hearing a call to a different vocation.  So, long story short, she is still a priest and but also now an Episcopal nun in the Order of St. Helena.  Faith quit the job with her parish, gave up any hope of future income, sold her possessions, relocated to a different state, moved into a house with the other sisters, and changed her name to Sister Miriam.  She heard Jesus calling her to renounce her affiliations and possessions and to take a vow of poverty, chastity, and obedience.  Her story played out differently than mine, but it came from the same call: to make hard choices, trust God deeply, and step off the cliff sometimes.

I’m not saying you’re called to the religious life.  But I am saying we’re all called to a spiritual life.  Now, how God is calling you is different from how God is calling the person sitting next to you.  But we’re all called to listen – to join God in a conversation and discern what your next steps might be.

It turns out, we have a practical way for you to do that, and you won’t be on your own.  This Thursday, we’re starting a five-week learning opportunity called Creating My Spiritual-Growth Plan.  We’ll start by considering what “spirituality” even means, led by the Rev. Lisa Senuta, the canon for spiritual life in the Diocese of Kansas.  Mtr. Lisa says that, for her, spirituality is “what we do to grow in our values and faith,” so we’ll talk about how we can each live that out in our own lives.  Then, Mtr. Rita, Mtr. Jean, and I will lead sessions about exploring our relationships with God, with others, and with ourselves.  And finally, Deacon Adam and I will help you consider how you can use your gifts, your resources, and your own wiring to create a plan to build up your spiritual well-being.

Each of us will do that differently.  Think about it the way you’d think about a plan to strengthen your physical well-being.  How that looks depends on where you are, right?  If you’re just starting to recover from a serious illness, then getting out of bed, sitting in a chair, and walking down the hall is true progress.  But if you run half-marathons and want to run a whole one, then … well, I have no idea what that training might look like, but I’m sure it’s intense.  Well, by the same token, for your spiritual growth, what you need is not for someone to hand you some prepackaged plan; what you need is to discern the plan that fits you and your life.

That’s what we’ll do over the next five weeks.  In the entryway or over at the picnic, you can get a copy of the workbook we’ll use for this class.  It’s titled Living Intentionally.

I think that’s a title Jesus would embrace.  In this hard reading this morning, however you want to make sense of his language about hating your family and giving up all your possessions, at the very least Jesus is saying we’ve got to consider intentionally the ties that bind us.  Those ties that bind us can be holy and life-giving.  Or, they can tie us down and hold us back from becoming the fully human, spiritually alive people God’s made us to become.

If we’re honest, it’s no surprise to hear that following the way of Love won’t be easy.  You can call it carrying the cross.  You can call it turning the other cheek.  You can call it loving your neighbor.  You can call it loving yourself as one made in God’s image and likeness.  You can call it speaking the truth in love.  You can call it respecting the dignity of every human being.  None of that love is easy.  But all of it builds us up, training us for the eternal life of love we long for.