Faith: Just Do It

-or- One Does Not Pay for the Gift of Faith

Last Sunday's Gospel reading was hard to swallow.  Jesus, followed by crowds full of enthused people, spoke on the cost of discipleship.  It was as though he questioned the hearts of those who were following, questioned whether they were full of mere enthusiasm or the passion of faith.  And so, he tells us what is required of his disciples, namely that we:

1. Hate father and mother, wife and children, sisters and brothers.
2. Hate life itself.
3. Carry your cross and follow Jesus.
4. Give up all of your possessions.

Let us examine what each of these really mean before proceeding.  First of all, what does it mean to hate family, friends and even life itself?  In Jesus' time, the word "hate" meant something a little different.  Today the word is laced with vitriolic, highly emotional sentiments.  Hate is one of the strongest words in the English language.  In Jesus' day, the word "hate" didn't have a lot of that baggage.  It meant simply: "turn away from," or "separate from."  Jesus is saying that we have to be willing to choose God over and against all other relationships.  This is harder than it sounds, and it sounds hard.  Abraham is our example of this: he left his family to start a new life in the land of Canaan.  God asked him to pick up and move and he did, forsaking the life he grew up with, forsaking the gods that his family worshipped.  Forsaking his loved ones.  And later, Abraham was even willing to turn away from his only son, Isaac--Abraham did not "hate" Isaac in the way we understand the word, rather he loved Isaac more than anything in the world.  But when God asked him to turn away from Isaac, Abraham was willing to hate Isaac to the point of murder.  If God calls on us to, are we willing to turn away from friends and family--not because we don't like them, but because God has asked us to, even while we still love and cherish them?

Second, what does it mean to hate life itself?  In today's age, when we hear "hate your life" we immediately jump to the desperation of suicide.  And so we may think that this requirement of discipleship is the willingness to die for the sake of the gospel.  Not true!  The next requirement deals with giving up our life (for that is what bearing the cross means).  So what does it mean, then, to hate one's life?  It means to turn away from one's life.  That is, turn away from the life that you have built.  What is life made up of?  People, activities, possessions?  All of these and more.  When you move to a new place, you must set up a new life--you find new routines, your old habits may no longer be available and so you take on new habits.  You must find a new support system.  When you move into a new house, you must find new homes for all of your possessions.  And when you have done all of these things and more, you have etched out a comfortable life for yourself.  All of this is what Jesus is calling us to hate.  Leave your comfort zone, take on new habits and activities, expand your friendships to include different people, etc.  Turn away from your routines and become someone new.

Third, what does it mean to bear the cross.  At times, I am willing to take the image of the cross as a metaphor, but not here.  I think here Jesus is speaking directly and without equivocation.  Here Jesus is saying be willing to die for your faith.  The cross is a symbol of death.  Simple as that.  And we are to bear the Word of God, the Gospel through every experience and event--even through death itself.

Fourth and finally, Jesus says that we must give up all of our possessions.  Again, Jesus is speaking clearly and directly here.  We are to sell everything we own, and give it away.  Only then, are we truly free to hate our life and embrace the new life that Jesus is offering us.  There is no metaphor here, there are no degrees of completing this requirement.  We get rid of all of our possessions.

Whosoever does not do these things cannot--is unable to--be Jesus' disciple.

It is so unfortunate, it is so off-putting, when Jesus speaks clearly and directly.  Oh, how pleasant it is when he speaks in soft parables that give us the wiggle room to make our own interpretations.  But, alas, here Jesus wishes to speak plainly.  Jesus wishes to show how offensive the gospel message really is to those who are comfortable in this life.

How many of us can say that we are willing to--or have already--done the things on this list of prerequisites?  I have not.  I have not even come close.  I, therefore, am unable to be Jesus' disciple.

And I think that is the point.
We are unable to do it.

So, Jesus launches into a couple of parables about measuring the cost of things before you jump into them.  "For which one of you, intending to build a tower, does not first sit down and estimate the cost, to see whether he has enough to complete it?"  And, "...what king, going out to wage war against another king, will not sit down first and consider whether he is able with ten thousand to oppose the one who comes against him with twenty thousand?"

Hearing these parables, my first thought is: "The cost of discipleship is too great.  I cannot do it.  Therefore, I shouldn't even try."

Is that the message that Jesus is sending us in this gospel passage?  It would seem so.

But there is hope.  The Kingdom of the World is caught up with trying to estimate costs and compare them to means.  But the Kingdom of God is more interested in people who venture out with faith, which augments ones means.

I think Jesus is telling us not to try estimating the cost of discipleship.  Instead, we are to just take the leap of following Jesus and deal with things as they come.  If we pause to figure out if we can do it or not, we have already stopped ourself from the leap of faith.  And if we go further with the calculations, we will find that we do not have what it takes and so we will never try to follow Jesus.  Instead, we must have the faith to simply begin following and, come what may, follow to the best of our abilities.

Life is such that counting the cost of anything ahead of time is just guesswork and hopefulness.  The one who sits down to build a house can plan all he or she wants.  They can get the proper financing, they can choose blueprints and hire the right builders.  But even the best laid plans are bungled by reality.  As the house is being built there are still so many unforeseen problems and decisions that have to be addressed along the way.  One must be constantly present and vigilant, lest those who are doing the work make decisions on the spot for you (workers who will do their best, but who will neither pay for nor live with the choices they make).  The reality is that the cost of building is usually much higher than the estimates at the beginning.

And as for the king who is estimating whether he will win or lose a battle against superior forces, no matter how accurately he accounts for resources, numbers, battlefield conditions and strategies, the battle's actual outcome is always unforeseeable.  The battle is not always won by the superior forces, or the better strategist, or the one whom the terrain and whether favors.  And the war is not always won by the one who wins the battle.

The changes and chances of life are always able to bungle the best laid plans.

Sitting down to estimate the cost of doing something, is only trying to minimize loses--to minimize the gamble.  And that simply cannot be done with faith.  In the passion of faith, we are to put everything on the line, trusting in God alone.  Again, just by sitting down to estimate the cost of what it means to be a Christian, we have already proven that we are not Christian.  Just that momentary pause in order to decide if we are willing to pay the price, is a hesitation that shows that we do not have faith.

Instead, faith is like life--we must not try to predict what will actually become, but rather we must face each moment as it comes.  We must simply jump into faith, trust God.  And if a trial comes that we fail, then we simply jump upon God's grace and forgiveness---but we never pause.  We continue moving, not despairing over the cost of discipleship nor our inability to pay that cost.  We keep moving, keep living.  And when we come to a tough requirement that we are able to pay.  When we come to a trial or temptation that we are able to beat with flying colors, keeping the faith, becoming an example and hero of faith--even then, we do not pause to account for our wins and losses.  For pausing to congratulation ourselves is also a hesitation that prevents us from following.

Therefore, I think Jesus is trying to tell us: do not worry about the cost.  Do not waste time trying to guess what God will require of you.  Simply follow me, and be ready for anything.  Discipleship is costly, but the reward, eternal happiness, is worth any cost.  We are to keep our eyes on the goal, keep our eyes on the road, and trust that the Holy Spirit will help us along the way.

Do not be like the kings and the builders of this world, who must account for every detail before they will do anything.  Instead, be a king and builder of the Kingdom of God: dream, work and sacrifice trusting that God will, in the end, make something of you.

In the end, God really doesn't have a use for our stuff.  God simply wants you...and me.
That is really the cost.  I must give God myself, in order for him to make something of me.
It seems like a gamble, but it is the only sure bet under the sun.
Thanks be to God for that.