When Less is More: the Road of Discipleship
September 9, 2007
Mary Hammond

The first time I accepted a piano student and later learned that she had no piano, I was in a bit of a state of shock. Frankly, in all my prior years of teaching, it had never occurred to me to ask an inquiring parent if the family owned a piano.

As this student--I’ll call her ‘Susie’--began piano lessons, the mother offhandedly commented, “Oh, by the way, we don’t have a piano, but Susie’s grandmother does, and we have friends with a piano...”
As you might guess, Susie didn’t get to her grandmother’s house very often, and the poor child was never prepared for lessons. It wasn’t long before she quit.

I learned something important from this experience. Now I always ask parents if they have a piano or at least a keyboard before I agree to start a piano student. When a parent seems surprised by this requirement, I reply, “Would you learn to read without having any books available?” That always helps me get my point across.

I tell this story because it is relevant to the text before us today. Jesus is doing something that rarely happens in contemporary evangelism–he’s deliberately, carefully thinning out the crowd that follows him. Some people might be looking for a healing, a quick fix that will help them get on with their lives. Some might be tagging along with friends or family. Others might be curious. Some might be hoping for a military conqueror. Others might even by spying for those out to discredit Jesus. Too many are following Jesus with questionable motives, and he is determined to tell them the truth about following him.

Jesus presses the crowd to consider what it really means to be his disciple. He engages in strong Oriental hyperbole, or exaggeration, in telling his followers they must “hate” mother, father, wife, sister, and brother in order to follow him. Jesus is trying to get their attention, and such extreme language should do it!

The family is the bedrock of first century Jewish society, the foundation upon which the social order rests. Honoring one’s mother and father is part of the Ten Commandments God gives the Jewish nation through Moses. How could Jesus possibly challenge unbridled loyalty to family ties?

He doesn’t stop with the family, though. Jesus tells the crowd that each must carry his or her own cross. What? Only criminals carried their own crosses! Was Jesus asking the crowd to identify with such unlikely company, or was he warning them that following him could lead to lots of trouble? It’s hard for us to imagine what Jesus is getting at when crosses today are symbols we see in churches or necklaces we wear rather than means of execution.

Jesus goes on to speak about giving up one’s possessions, which could also be translated “give up all your possessing.” The verb form of this word widens our understanding. It evokes a deeper image: give up your clinging; give up your grasping; give up your acquiring for the sake of acquiring. Relinquish, release, let go of anything that gets in the way.

As if these challenges are not enough, Jesus offers one final challenge. Not so fast, people! he cries out. I’m not looking for quick conversions; I’m looking for those who will travel the distance with me. Sit down and count the cost, and then make your decision about Who and what you will pursue.

Kings plan and strategize when they fight wars. In an occupied land, this is an analogy that people understand. Builders draw up plans before beginning construction. That’s as obvious as needing a piano to learn how to play one. Take some time, Jesus cautions, and think about what journey you are taking and where you are going. Where is your allegiance? What or who is most important to you?
Little did the crowd that followed Jesus that day imagine how quickly Jesus’ journey would change.

Before long, he finds himself alone, bereft of the very support he most needs from his hardy companions who swore their allegiance to him not long before. Soon, the accolades turn to jeers, the road to victory is paved with a torturous crucifixion.

We stand today on the other side of the story which ends with an Empty Tomb and a promise of Pentecost, not a dark sky and a lonely cross. Yet, even with such an assurance, we know that life has its twists and turns, and that the proof of discipleship comes in the long journey, not the quick conversion.

Recently, I was watching CNN and the newscaster announced, “Next, we have a shocking report on Mother Teresa. Stay tuned...after the Commercial Break.” My mind first raced to the typical CNN celebrity revelation–sexual immorality–but I dismissed that idea as soon as it entered my head. “Impossible,” I thought. “This is Mother Teresa!”

CNN had me hooked. I had to stay tuned to find out the shocking news. After the commercials, and a host of other inconsequential stories, CNN finally got to Mother Teresa. Personal journals, recently released, chronicled some of her deepest questions and doubts about her faith.

To tell the truth, if someone released my personal journals, the same thing could easily happen, although without the notoriety and fame!

The newscaster called on some religion expert who explained that this wasn’t such shocking news after all, because saints were often known to endure something called “the dark night of the soul.” It felt extremely surreal to hear CNN broadcasters converse about “the dark night of the soul” as if they were talking about some new vaccine for measles. Nevertheless, they spoke as if they were making public some secret phenomena reserved only for the most saintly of saints.

In truth, the “dark night of the soul” is an experience anyone on the long journey with God will encounter. It is a time when all the light that is in us becomes darkness, all the light that is around us becomes night, all the murmurs of God’s voice fall silent, and we are left to throw ourselves upon the One whom we trust and cannot see, feel, or find.

It is no surprise to me that Mother Teresa would struggle, lament, love, sacrifice, hope, persevere, yearn, ache, doubt, and question. This is really not that shocking to any person of deep and enduring faith.

There is a paradox to seasons of questioning and doubt. In reality, they are a call from God to continue reconstructing our faith, a call to go deeper and higher in the journey of discipleship.
The challenge before us today is this great offer of Jesus to follow him wherever he leads. The journey embraces a Garden of Betrayal, a lonely Cross, and an Empty Tomb. It includes the outpouring of the Spirit of the living God and the gift of community--the very body of Christ in the world. It is a journey of temptation and promise, risk and reward, relinquishment and renewal.

I invite you into a time of prayer as we prepare for the offering. I invite you to consider your own journey with God and with the people of God, your own personal call to discipleship.