PROPER 8, YEAR C

Sunday, June 26, 2022

Christ Church, Woodbury, N. J.

 

1 Kings 19:15-16, 19-21

Luke 9:51-62

 

In the Gospel reading that we’ve just heard, a certain Greek verb meaning “to follow” occurs three times. This verb occurs first when a man says to Jesus, “I will follow you wherever you go.” It occurs second when Jesus says to someone else, “Follow me.” And third when still another person says, “I will follow you, Lord; but let me first say farewell to those at my home.”

 

In the ancient translation of the Hebrew Scriptures into Greek known as the Septuagint, this same verb is used in today’s Old Testament reading when Elisha says to Elijah, “Let me kiss my father and my mother, and then I will follow you.”

 

The verb’s literal meaning is something like “to take to the road” or “to undertake a journey” with someone. And in today’s readings, it has the sense not merely of following someone somewhere, but also of making the total commitment of becoming that person’s disciple. 

 

In the reading from First Kings, the prophet Elijah has received God’s command to anoint Elisha the son of Shaphat to be his successor. Elisha appears as a wealthy young farmer, plowing with twelve yoke of oxen. Elijah casts his mantle upon Elisha—a  clear sign of calling him to follow in his footsteps and take up the prophetic office.

 

Elisha’s response expresses his acceptance of the call and his total commitment to following Elijah. Destroying his livelihood, he slays the oxen and uses the wooden yokes to make the fire on which he roasts the oxen to make a great feast for the people. Then he departs to follow and serve Elijah.

 

Today’s Gospel clearly harks back to this Old Testament episode. Saint Luke tells us of Jesus setting his face to go to Jerusalem: making the decision to undertake the journey that will result in his crucifixion and death. And filled with this single-minded determination to complete his mission, Jesus begins instructing the disciples on the level of commitment required of them if they’re to follow him on the journey.

 

Three encounters with would-be followers on the road illustrate the point. One individual enthusiastically declares, “Lord, I will follow you wherever you go.” The Lord’s response is sobering: Birds have nests, foxes have holes, but the Son of man has nowhere to lay his head. Those who follow him must be willing to give up even the basic security of having somewhere to call home.

 

A second person says yes to the invitation to follow Jesus, but with a condition: “Lord, let me first go and bury my father.” This person is seeking to fulfill two of the highest and most compelling moral and religious obligations imaginable: to honor his parents and to bury the dead. The Lord’s response, “Leave the dead to bury their own dead,” may seem callous and insensitive, but his point is that his call transcends all other claims of duty, no matter how worthy.

 

A third person spontaneously offers to follow Jesus, but again with a condition: “let me first say farewell to those at my home.” These words are almost the same what Elisha says to Elijah. But unlike Elijah, Jesus doesn’t give the man leave. “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.” In other words, Jesus demands a level of allegiance that takes precedence even over ties of familial affection.

 

Taken together, these three responses make clear that following Jesus calls for total and unreserved commitment. The call to follow is absolute, even when it entails leaving behind all other loyalties and commitments.

 

Now what does this mean for us today? Few of us are called literally to drop everything and leave behind home, families, and workplaces to follow Jesus on the road. On the contrary, most of us follow Jesus precisely by staying put and fulfilling our familial, social, occupational, and religious obligations in those stations of life into which it has pleased God to call us. 

 

But the real issue in the second and third encounters—I will follow, but let me first do this or that—involves the attempt to set conditions and put limitations upon discipleship. Occasionally, I’ve encountered parishioners who’ve said things like, “I don’t mind coming to church on Sundays, so long as I don’t become too religious.” In a previous parish, one lady told me that the practice of Christianity is fine in small doses, provided that it doesn’t interfere with one’s ability to enjoy the rest of one’s life. 

 

My initial impression of Christ Church is that such attitudes are not a major problem here. On the contrary, since my arrival at the beginning of this month, I’ve encountered a level of commitment and enthusiasm that would be the envy of many of my priestly colleagues if only they knew about it! Most of you display a passion for the well being of this parish and its people that is entirely commendable.

 

Any parish’s transition from one rector to another does, however, raise in acute form the issue of what it means to leave behind past forms of life to follow Jesus on the road. We’re all embarked upon this journey together. There’s no turning back. And in the coming months, we may well be called to engage deeply with the question of what aspects of the past need to be let go of into order to embrace more fully that future into which God is now calling us.

 

Such letting go, incidentally, does not mean forgetting or dishonoring the past. We do well to remember and be grateful for the many gifts and blessings that have made us who we are. For example, it was wonderful, right, and fitting that so many parishioners went out to Illinois to participate in Fr. Burgess’s consecration as Bishop of Springfield, while others gathered in the parish hall to watch the livestream. It was, however, not only a wonderful moment of celebration but also a valuable opportunity for closure—like Elisha kissing his father and his mother before taking to the road to follow Elijah. 

 

Bishop Burgess will rightly hold a place in many hearts for years to come as a rector who brought great blessings on this parish and profoundly informed its sense of identity and mission. But I know that he would be the first to agree that it’s now time for Christ Church to be open to a future in which a new rector may well want to move in new directions and do some things differently. Such openness does no dishonor to Bishop Burgess’s legacy; it simply recognizes that for us, as for him, the journey continues—and “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.