There's a sweet little video making the rounds right now. About a month ago, at the halftime for a WNBA game in Las Vegas, the team held a baby crawl race. Ten babies were lined up by their dads on one end of the court on the top of the key, and encouraged to crawl to their moms on the other end of the court. It was NOT a short distance. One little girl really took off, crawling steadily and with great concentration.
Just past midcourt, she suddenly stopped, scooping up one of the stuffed animals that were being slid onto the court as incentives. How could she continue, and keep the toy? In an amazing bit of problem-solving, she then stood up wobbily clutching the stuffie, and took her first little steps for all the world to see. The crowd went wild, and even the other mothers nearby celebrated as she hesitatingly but unfailingly walked into her mama's ecstatic arms.
I think about how determined that baby was--- to stand up on a slick basketball court in her stocking feet, while people all around her were cheering, clapping and screaming, flashes going off all around her-- and then she walked all the rest of the way. She was willing to take those first steps certain of her mom's loving embrace at the end.
I think she was propelled by the momentum of love. Now she's internet famous, and she has brightened the days of millions of people who have watched the video. This kid is a risk taker, no doubt about it.
Our readings from Philemon and Luke are also about taking risks, and taking our first steps for living out our call to be disciples of Jesus, rather than mere worshipers of him, no matter the cost.
The brief letter to Philemon is notable, because in it, Paul demands, while pretending to ask, that one of his wealthy converts, Philemon, free an enslaved young man who had run away from Philemon and made his way to Paul, imprisoned at the time. Paul not only asks for the freedom of the slave, but asks that Philemon henceforth treat the formerly enslaved young man as a brother. At that time in the Roman world, slaves cost between one year and ten years' worth of the daily wage, a denarii.
Then in our gospel, Jesus, turning his face toward Jerusalem, tries to let the enthusiastic crowd following him know what the risks and costs of discipleship can be. The word "hate" here may be better translated as "turn aside from." This may sound harsh indeed.
The admonition to deny ourselves and take up our cross to follow Jesus is just as scary to us as it was in the time of Jesus’s earthly ministry. The idea that we have to be willing to suffer for our faith seems especially harsh here, too, especially after we have been hearing some harsh words from Jesus the last few weeks.
How can this be good news? It may sound to us at first glance like Jesus is telling us to be willing to throw our lives away—after all, the cross was a symbol of criminality and death. Trust me, to Jesus’s followers, crucifixion was no empty metaphor.
After all, the cross, when Jesus speaks of it in our gospel passage today, was a ROMAN execution method used for those who threatened their death-grip on power. It stood for brutality. It stood for the power of empire to crush and literally squeeze the breath out of those who opposed that power of domination and brutality. How can it be that, in too many people's minds today, they cynically and hypocritically claims that the gold crosses they wear around their necks gives them the power to do the same thing to others?
Theologians from Paul up through today remind us that, after Jesus's execution and resurrection, the cross has been transformed from a symbol of shame to a symbol of the victory of love over death, thanks to Jesus’s willingness to embrace it. That cross has been transformed into a symbol of God’s grace-- and we as Christians must be willing to fight to keep it that way, rather than let it be transformed into a symbol of those who embrace the cruelty and violence of the Roman Empire among us now, just as the Ku Klux Klan attempted to pervert the cross in its campaigns of terror.
And that’s important for us to think about as we try to make sense of what Jesus is saying. Jesus is not asking us to embrace death, but instead, to truly embrace a life grounded in God, who loves us no matter what. To be willing to sacrifice, and in sacrificing, to strive to trust in God completely-- which is an aspiration for us all, given the cynical, even cruel world in which we live that makes us mistrustful of almost everyone and their motives. Jesus is asking us to be willing to use our God-given lives for the good of others and for the good of the world. As we begin today to observe the Season of Creation,
Deep in our hearts, many of us have a hard time believing that God’s love is that limitless for us. It is a fact that every love we experience in our lives changes us in some way. Choosing to embrace God’s love for us will change us, too.
Now, change can be a scary thing. It’s scary, because any real change in our lives involves embracing a death of our former selves- letting go of all that is familiar to us, that made us who we have been in the hope that we will become something better.
It’s like when we went to the circus when we were kids. I was always fascinated by the trapeze artists. Sure, there was a net stretched below them. But even with that, I was always amazed by their willingness to let go of the first trapeze, and for several heart-stopping moments to be clinging to nothing at all as they tumbled through the air. There was always a moment when their hands were empty, with nothing but a net far below. But through trust in the laws of physics and their own skills, they have the courage to let go-- and are rewarded with the ability to fly.
Our own lives are often just as risky at times too. We move from one swinging perch to another throughout our lives, as we develop and grow. In between the letting go and the grasping, there are those heart-stopping moments when we are holding on to nothing. But without the momentum of love, without opening our hands, we have no way to grasp the new life-change coming toward us. This is also true of our lives as followers of Jesus. Unless we empty our heads, hands, and our hearts in a similar manner, letting go and emptying ourselves of all that has tied us to the way we have been and the way we were, we cannot take hold of the abundant new life to which we are called through the loving voice of Christ.
Listen. We are given the gift of each day from God. We are given the abundance of the Earth for our flourishing, and for the flourishing of all the living beings who depend upon it. We are given the gift of this parish and its ministries as gifts of God to us and to the world. Caring for each of these things will cost us, but it's a cost worth paying.
Jesus calls us to use each one of those days as much as possible making the most of that life by living our lives for God and for others. It means that the only life worth living is one in which we are willing to be transformed by the power of God’s grace to live for others.
Jesus stretched his arms wide upon that cross as God Incarnate to remind us that God’s arms are themselves stretched wide to encompass the entire world—no exceptions. Jesus stretched his arms wide upon that cross as a fully human person to remind us that we are all capable of loving each other that much, that abundantly. God loves us into being and breathes love into us from the moment of our births, and we are called to try to breathe that love and grace into a world that, through our own human folly and selfishness, is gasping for it. We just have to be willing to take the risk of love, and take that first step onto the path of discipleship, without fear and with an open sacrificial spirit. The momentum of love will propel us forward.
Amen.
Readings:
Deuteronomy 30:15-20
Psalm 1
Philemon 1-21
Luke 14:25-33
Our readings from Philemon and Luke are also about taking risks, and taking our first steps for living out our call to be disciples of Jesus, rather than mere worshipers of him, no matter the cost.
The brief letter to Philemon is notable, because in it, Paul demands, while pretending to ask, that one of his wealthy converts, Philemon, free an enslaved young man who had run away from Philemon and made his way to Paul, imprisoned at the time. Paul not only asks for the freedom of the slave, but asks that Philemon henceforth treat the formerly enslaved young man as a brother. At that time in the Roman world, slaves cost between one year and ten years' worth of the daily wage, a denarii.
Then in our gospel, Jesus, turning his face toward Jerusalem, tries to let the enthusiastic crowd following him know what the risks and costs of discipleship can be. The word "hate" here may be better translated as "turn aside from." This may sound harsh indeed.
The admonition to deny ourselves and take up our cross to follow Jesus is just as scary to us as it was in the time of Jesus’s earthly ministry. The idea that we have to be willing to suffer for our faith seems especially harsh here, too, especially after we have been hearing some harsh words from Jesus the last few weeks.
How can this be good news? It may sound to us at first glance like Jesus is telling us to be willing to throw our lives away—after all, the cross was a symbol of criminality and death. Trust me, to Jesus’s followers, crucifixion was no empty metaphor.
After all, the cross, when Jesus speaks of it in our gospel passage today, was a ROMAN execution method used for those who threatened their death-grip on power. It stood for brutality. It stood for the power of empire to crush and literally squeeze the breath out of those who opposed that power of domination and brutality. How can it be that, in too many people's minds today, they cynically and hypocritically claims that the gold crosses they wear around their necks gives them the power to do the same thing to others?
Theologians from Paul up through today remind us that, after Jesus's execution and resurrection, the cross has been transformed from a symbol of shame to a symbol of the victory of love over death, thanks to Jesus’s willingness to embrace it. That cross has been transformed into a symbol of God’s grace-- and we as Christians must be willing to fight to keep it that way, rather than let it be transformed into a symbol of those who embrace the cruelty and violence of the Roman Empire among us now, just as the Ku Klux Klan attempted to pervert the cross in its campaigns of terror.
And that’s important for us to think about as we try to make sense of what Jesus is saying. Jesus is not asking us to embrace death, but instead, to truly embrace a life grounded in God, who loves us no matter what. To be willing to sacrifice, and in sacrificing, to strive to trust in God completely-- which is an aspiration for us all, given the cynical, even cruel world in which we live that makes us mistrustful of almost everyone and their motives. Jesus is asking us to be willing to use our God-given lives for the good of others and for the good of the world. As we begin today to observe the Season of Creation,
Deep in our hearts, many of us have a hard time believing that God’s love is that limitless for us. It is a fact that every love we experience in our lives changes us in some way. Choosing to embrace God’s love for us will change us, too.
Now, change can be a scary thing. It’s scary, because any real change in our lives involves embracing a death of our former selves- letting go of all that is familiar to us, that made us who we have been in the hope that we will become something better.
It’s like when we went to the circus when we were kids. I was always fascinated by the trapeze artists. Sure, there was a net stretched below them. But even with that, I was always amazed by their willingness to let go of the first trapeze, and for several heart-stopping moments to be clinging to nothing at all as they tumbled through the air. There was always a moment when their hands were empty, with nothing but a net far below. But through trust in the laws of physics and their own skills, they have the courage to let go-- and are rewarded with the ability to fly.
Our own lives are often just as risky at times too. We move from one swinging perch to another throughout our lives, as we develop and grow. In between the letting go and the grasping, there are those heart-stopping moments when we are holding on to nothing. But without the momentum of love, without opening our hands, we have no way to grasp the new life-change coming toward us. This is also true of our lives as followers of Jesus. Unless we empty our heads, hands, and our hearts in a similar manner, letting go and emptying ourselves of all that has tied us to the way we have been and the way we were, we cannot take hold of the abundant new life to which we are called through the loving voice of Christ.
Listen. We are given the gift of each day from God. We are given the abundance of the Earth for our flourishing, and for the flourishing of all the living beings who depend upon it. We are given the gift of this parish and its ministries as gifts of God to us and to the world. Caring for each of these things will cost us, but it's a cost worth paying.
Jesus calls us to use each one of those days as much as possible making the most of that life by living our lives for God and for others. It means that the only life worth living is one in which we are willing to be transformed by the power of God’s grace to live for others.
Jesus stretched his arms wide upon that cross as God Incarnate to remind us that God’s arms are themselves stretched wide to encompass the entire world—no exceptions. Jesus stretched his arms wide upon that cross as a fully human person to remind us that we are all capable of loving each other that much, that abundantly. God loves us into being and breathes love into us from the moment of our births, and we are called to try to breathe that love and grace into a world that, through our own human folly and selfishness, is gasping for it. We just have to be willing to take the risk of love, and take that first step onto the path of discipleship, without fear and with an open sacrificial spirit. The momentum of love will propel us forward.
Amen.
Readings:
Deuteronomy 30:15-20
Psalm 1
Philemon 1-21
Luke 14:25-33
Preached at the 505 on September 6 and the 10:30 Holy Eucharist on September 7, 2025 at St. Martin's Church in Ellisville.
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