Thursday, October 22, 2015

"If anyone comes to Me and does not hate...even his own life..."

Impossible:

"If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple." Luke 14:26

"Impossible" is a word I HATE. Speaking of "hate," I feel that here I need to give the token explanation of that word in this passage: it does not mean to experience feelings of loathing or dislike for your family or your life. It is a very strong way of saying which thing you will choose above the other should you be forced to make a choice. 

And Jesus seems to be saying here that you will have to make a choice.

Jesus says, "You want to follow me? You want eternal life? Ok. Let's make a deal. You give me everything you have and everyone you love, and in exchange I will give you eternal life and make you mine, one of my followers." 

There's the deal. But wait. "Count the cost," he says later in the passage. "When you choose me over your family, it may be at the cost of your physical life or theirs. When you choose me over all that you have, it may be at the cost of extreme poverty or physical or emotional suffering."

I used to read these passages through the eyes of an idealogue. I was young and restless and unfettered by anything or anyone. What did I own besides a little old Corolla, a laptop and a guitar? Who stood to suffer much by my being swept away by Jesus? Now, I have much, much more to lose. I own my own business which supports my family entirely. I have a wife who leans on me almost completely and loves me more than I ever could have imagined. I have three beautiful children whose lives are just in the very seedlings stages, tender green and gently pushing up through the soft soil into life. They depend on me (and their mother) completely. The suffering that would occur from my being swept away by Jesus has been exponentially expanded over the last five years. So now it's not so easy to read these words from the Master with the passion and enthusiasm and fire of youth. Now I read this and shake my head . . .

Impossible.

I used to be quick to rant against and shred any timid interpretation of this passage--you know, when people say, "Well, it doesn't mean hate," which is, of course, a safe place to start but,"It just really means you love Jesus SOOO MUCH that your deep love for your family looks small (almost like hate??) in comparison.... so, love JESUS! A lot!"

Ah, that feels better. Unfortunately, it completely misses the point of this passage. No, Jesus really is calling us to something here that is impossible-- or, at least, should feel impossible. This passage isn't really about love. Not directly. It'll come back around to love, eventually, but right now this is about choices. Like the choice my 3-year-old daughter faces once or twice a week: "Mommy and your little brothers are going shopping. Do you want to go with Mommy or stay home with Daddy? Now Daddy is going to be working in his office, so you'll have to play by yourself and not bother him about everything. Do you want to stay home and play by yourself or go shopping with Mommy?" She always chooses to stay home because she is a definite introvert. The point is she can't choose both. She can't go with Mommy and stay home. If she wants to stay home she has to "renounce" Mommy and the shopping trip. It's not that she doesn't love Mommy. But she is willing to be separated from her for a few hours in order to pursue her life's course of playing with her dolls by herself uninterrupted by her little brother--bliss for her. 

This quiet, solitary bliss for her is to us comparable to eternal life and the path of Jesus. We can't have our cake and eat it too. We can't follow Jesus into eternal life and have all of our earthly loves and obligations too. 

But this is impossible to most of us. It's true. Even the apostles found that out the hard way.--when the three years of miracles and great teaching to multitudes suddenly exploded in the dark garden Gethsemane. In the ugly torchlight of a gang of armed temple guards and Judas' false kiss, the remaining eleven disciples were forced to make a choice: continue to follow Jesus bound for a cross or flee to protect their families and their lives. To continue following this reckless Rabbi proved impossible for most of them. Even Peter, in the end, fled. He wasn't quite ready to make the choice, to "renounce all that he had." He had a family to protect after all (Mt 8:14).

So, no, don't take the teeth out of Jesus' teaching here to "renounce it all," to choose Christ over family and security and everything you have. It's for real. And it is impossible. That ugly 10-letter word turned away the "rich, young ruler." Riches were supposed to connote God's favor upon someone. If a rich guy could not obtain eternal life, how could anyone enter the Kingdom? But here's the good news about this impossible call: "What is impossible with man, is possible with God." (Luke 18:27) How? Mercy. His incredulous disciples would eventually learn that it is God's mercy and not our ability to follow Jesus' impossible commands that will make us secure. And God's mercy will compel us to follow Jesus' impossible call--no matter how many times we fail trying.

One example and this is my last point. Remember Peter fled? Well. He didn't just quietly slip away unnoticed. He first made a lying, disloyal, cowardly embarrassment of himself and then ran out into the night "weeping bitterly." Jesus said, Renounce everyone and everything and follow me. And Peter said, I will, even to the death. And then he didn't. He abandoned ship after all. It was too hard. Impossible.

But not with God. Not with Jesus. In the weeks following Christ's resurrection we find this incredibly moving scene of mercy. John 21. Jesus pursues Peter and ambushes him but not so that he can condemn him, judge him, and crush him for his cowardly denial and abandonment on the night Jesus needed his loyalty most. He finds Peter so that he can completely undo Peter's ignomy and restore him, recommission him. There on that beach he prophesies Peter's future renunciation of his own life for the sake of Christ. Here is where it all comes back to love. Jesus lovingly and firmly reminds Peter that Peter loves Jesus after all. Peter can now understand the foundation of his love: Jesus' mercy to him. In the end (according to Christian tradition), that mercy will compel Peter's love to choose crucifixion over life and all other relationships.

What was impossible for Peter--without a full grasp of Christ and his mercy--was possible with God--in the full light of Christ's merciful love. 

What is impossible for me and you--"hating" our families and renouncing all that we have--is possible with God--when we rest secure and allow our families to rest secure in God's merciful love.