A Lenten Farewell

“No act of virtue can be great if it is not followed by advantage for others.

So, no matter how much time you spend fasting, no matter how much you 

sleep on a hard floor and eat ashes and sigh continually,

 if you do no good to others, you do nothing great.”

Those are words spoken by the great fourth century preacher John Chrysostom. They seem as relevant an admonition to me thousands of years later as they must have to those who first heard them spoken. Could it be that it is in the act of providing advantage for another than my own sacrifice can have real meaning? 

The challenge to follow Jesus is just that – a challenge. Despite our cultural bias toward that which is easy and requires little of me, the gospel seems rooted in the idea that following Jesus is a call to give of our very best, to give of our all, and to come on bended knee as we seek His help along the way.

In Luke’s account of the Jesus story, he has Jesus talking about the cost of following Him in Luke 14:26ff. “Whoever comes to me and 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.” (NRSV) Most of us are pretty quick to run to Matthew for rescue, where he has Jesus saying, “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me . . .” (Matthew 10:37=39) Matthew seems to be a little more pastoral than Luke.

Currently I am reading through Luke as a part of my devotional reading of Scripture. What I noticed a few days ago that I don’t recall noticing before – perhaps why William Willimon describes the Bible as “a thick book” – is that this text ends in Luke about as strongly as it begins. Here what Jesus says, “So therefore, any one of you who does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple.” (ESV)  Apparently Jesus missed the day in rabbi school when they talked about a politically correct way of talking about discipleship!

The word Luke uses only shows up in the New Testament sseven times. Six of them are simply formal ways of saying “farewell.” A would-be disciple wants to say “farewell” to his family in Luke 6:61. Jesus says “farewell” to the crowds after the feeding of the 5000 in Mark 6:46 and goes off to pray. The other four are similar, routine ways of saying “good bye.”

Then there is this one. The ESV says “renounce” while the NRSV says “give up all.” Either preference puts me in a challenging place. What in the world can Jesus be thinking? I need to “hate” my family context and “renounce” all my stuff. Following Jesus doesn’t seem to be the stroll in the park some might have me believe. 

In the same way I’m sure that Jesus isn’t literally asking me to hate my family, I’d like to think that He doesn’t mean by “renounce” that I give away everything I have and hope for the best. But at the same time – I’m pretty sure I should pay more attention to this text. The truth is, when you read Acts 2-4, it seems fair to say that early Christians took words like this more to heart than we do.

Wednesday is Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent – that centuries old Christian practice of re-thinking our relationship to Jesus in the context of repentance, sacrifice, and commitment. I’m beyond caring whether or not a simple little non-Catholic Christian like me ought to practice Lent – so no need to remind me it isn’t “in the Bible.” Neither is the church building you worshipped in on Sunday, but my guess is church buildings have value.

So for me – I’m going to do my best to think seriously about this question: “What word from Jesus is troubling my heart right now?” If I don’t have an answer to that question, then I have probably fallen victim to what Pope Francis recently called “the globalization of indifference.” 

In all honesty – I probably don’t need to think beyond “renounce all that he has” as a “troubling word from Jesus.” During Lent, I’m going to think about that, pray about that, and talk about that. How can I become more like Jesus and less like the “stuff” I need to renounce. Of course I will have to remember the quote at the beginning from Chrysostom – and not just “renounce” but do something!

Whether you like the whole idea of Lent or not – I can’t imagine that it wouldn’t help you, just as I am doing, to wonder about some “troubling of the heart” words from Jesus for the next 40 days. 

Blessing to you as we journey toward Easter.

Fairness Counts

Despite both growing up hearing it and saying it to my own children as a parent, the old adage “Life isn’t fair” doesn’t speak to how life ought to be, but how life sometimes turns out. Followers of Jesus should never be satisfied with that idea as a description of how things ought to be. 

As a child growing up, I spent lots of time with my paternal grandparents – who lived all of less than a mile down the country road from my parent’s house. I suspect it had something to do with the favored status I perceived I occupied with my grandparents, the fascination with the farm, and the reality that grandparents are generally easier on kids than parents.

I remember lots of lessons from those days. In addition to being a dairy farmer, my grandfather grew crops that required lots of manual labor and back in those days, that meant people’s livelihood was typically earned in doing this kind of work. Nearly always people were paid at the end of the day, every day. My grandmother would often remind my grandfather of the warning in James 5:4 – “Listen! The wages of the laborers who mowed your fields, which you kept back by fraud, cry out, and the cries of the harvesters have reached the ears of the Lord of hosts.” (NRSV) I don’t think she did that because my grandfather was dishonest – but because she wanted to make sure everyone was treated fairly – justly.

That whole paragraph – James 5:1-6 – is one that any of us living in modern culture ought to review occasionally. It is all about treating people justly. While James’ specific illustration seems to speak to the issue of paying just wages, it seems to me that the overriding principle in play is whether or not I treat people in every context of life justly. In a culture where manual labor was predominant, it is no surprise that James uses the idea of paying just wages as the vehicle in which he reminds his readers of just treatment of others. He surely is thinking about Deuteronomy 24:14, 15. Or to use Jesus’ words, the need to treat others in the context of loving God and loving neighbor. 

Do I treat students in my classes justly? If not – will their voices cry out in judgment? What about restaurant owners who pay less than minimum wage, in the name of “tips make up the difference”? Or even more personally for most of us – the customers in restaurants who tip so poorly there is no way we help “make up the difference.” Then there is the bureaucratic reach of government employees who seem to enjoy being difficult. And court systems who treat the accused with the kind of disdain that should never be in a believer’s heart. And banks whose interest rates far exceed reason. Or businesses who resort to price gouging in times of disaster and who sell inferior products at outrageous prices.

Of course it is easy to simply say “that’s how the system works.” “Capitalism isn’t perfect – but it’s better than any other alternative, so too bad about the abuses.” “The courts are supposed to punish the guilty, so tough luck if you’re caught in the system.” “It’s not my fault she can only get a job at some local mom and pop, meat and two vegetables kind of place.” 

All the while, we watch our own treasures increase and fail to hear the cries of those treated unjustly that reach the ears of the Lord of the hosts. 

“But I’m not rich” becomes our immediate mode of defense. Yet, compared to those who first read James, we are all pretty rich – and we dare not dismiss these words so casually.

I didn’t realize it growing up, but looking at life from this end of the journey, I’m grateful for the regular reminder of my grandmother that justice matters – and it always matters. If justice matters, I won’t become rich at the expense of laborers; and I won’t become powerful at the expense of the marginal; I won’t pad my resume at the expense of the accused; and I won’t excuse myself because “that’s the way things are.” 

Life really isn’t fair – but that’s no excuse for a believer to contribute to the unfairness.