Jesus is not a sound byte

Luke 14:25-33 

Just saying right now that Jesus could in no way run for political office here in the US in the 21^st century—in one fell swoop, he just threw away any credibility to espousing family values.  And that is precisely the point, Jesus is not running for public office; he is not trying to figure out how to convince us or persuade us (read manipulate us) into buying into a bunch of sound bytes that will close the deal without giving us the full story—the full picture of what choosing Jesus will entail—the costs and the benefits.  He is not telling us partial truths and glossing over reality, not telling us what we want to hear, and definitely not pulling a switch and bait—no in today’s Gospel Jesus is laying it out completely—all the costs and yet also begging us to choose him because in choosing him we are indeed choosing life.  But it does come with a cost, a discipline, a choice.

                Earlier this summer I was desperately trying to get back into an exercise regiment once I could run again.  I don’t know why it’s so easy to get out of shape and so hard to get back in—so I was struggling and in my frustration (I can be a little competitive even with myself) I was not completely committed.  In the mornings I would come up with lots of excuses—good excuses about why I couldn’t exercise; I needed to get to work earlier and didn’t have time; it was too hot; too rainy, one time I even said too cold.  A friend was also struggling and she decided to take action.  She formed a group 100 miles in 100 days and we each pledged to either walk or run at least 1 mile every day for 100 days—no excuses.   I made a choice—a choice that requires a commitment, a discipline, a choice, an intentional plan every single day.

        God is asking us to make a choice that requires a commitment and a cost every day—it’s not the simple choice on whether or not to get up and go to church on Sunday—that’s the sound byte; it’s a choice to say yes to Jesus guiding our every thought, word, and action—every day and in all we do.  We are being asked to make a decision to be a disciple of Jesus even when that choice brings us into conflict with those we love most dearly—our family and friends; a choice that may bring us into conflict with those with whom we work, go to school , and with our neighbors.  It is a choice to continue to follow the example of Jesus even when it puts us on the outside of our comfort zone; on the outside of the popular way of life.

        By making this commitment, we are also saying yes to paying attention—to paying attention to where the world seems broken and to being a part of the healing grace of God.  Sometimes these times are obvious, but sometimes not so much.  Often these times come up with those we know, love, and respect are centered around what we call the hot button issues--social issues such as sexuality, racism, sexism, health care etc.  And often it’s not overt and so we are called to pay attention and to make a choice. Do we speak up against our friend, do we challenge the actions of our mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers, do we risk division of a friendship?

In the end for most of us, these decisions will not mean that we shun people when we disagree about a social issue nor will we take it upon ourselves to reign down God’s fiery judgment because we think the other is deliberately and cruelly making choices to bring harm or making severe errors in judgment, rather the choice is whether or not we allow these relationship to ultimately trump what and how Christ is calling us to be with each other and in the world.

        As strong as the language in today’s Gospel is, nowhere in it does it say become people of judgment—get in people’s face, judge, condemn—do whatever you have to to win—to cram your way of thinking down everyone  else’s throats.  Frankly that is dangerous—many times the one with whom we disagree may be in fact also be living their lives in a way they believe to be a committed life to Christ.  They may be as sure in their belief as we are in ours—a good time for dialogue, for discernment, for conversation that may open us all to hear something new.  Jesus is asking us each to make a personal choice and to live our lives fully and completely committed to him-- to live a life of love, and grace and openness, and forgiveness, and mercy.  We are not alone—we couldn’t do it alone, but “Glory to God whose power, working in us, can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine: Glory to him from generation to generation in the Church, and in Christ Jesus for ever and ever.”

        This is not a political ad, a sound byte.  It cannot be because being a disciple of Jesus means there are no separations—we don’t separate church and state or work and play in our lives—it is one life lived completely in thought word and deed completely and totally committed to God.  An integrated life lived with costs but oh the benefits—God is begging us to say yes.

Cousins Weekend--Where wearing lipstick and mascara at the same time means your overdressed

What is so special about Cousins' Weekend?  It's not like we don't see each other at other times of the year.  Seriously this family travels en masse to all events.  I almost laughed out loud when I was asked if I'd need one or two pews reserved for my Ordination--could you make that 10? So, what makes Cousins' Weekend so special; I'll try to put the indescribable into words.  It all begins when we drive through the hedges of Ditchley Pointe.  It's when we leave the world (and the make up) behind....

We come from three states; we come as marketing execs, guidance counselors, insurance execs, contractors, priests, health care analysts, elementary students, middle school students, high schools students and those in college.  We come as those who've been born into and married into this

mess; we come as first, second, and third--we've quit trying to figure it out, we're all just "Cousins." We come having experienced promotions and demotions; academic honors and academic disappointments, athletic success and bench warming status.  We come not to impress, not to outdo, but to just be; to be who we are at the core--"The Cousins." We come as people who have experienced trauma and loss, rehab and recovery, financial loss and gain, friendships lost and friendships gained, death and resurrection, moves and adjustments, but we come each and every year-- we just come.  And as we pull into the drive we know that despite all that has happened in our lives and all that will happen, we have three glorious days of just being "The Cousins."

The magic equality of Cousin Weekend this year began as we pulled into the driveway..
The new 16 year old driver pulls in and is greeted by the 8 year old who says, "You can drive now? Well look what I can do." as he
swings from the nearest limb.  And both are equally celebrated for their new skill as they run off to play lacrosse together, creating a secret handshake--simply Cousins.  Cousins embarking on another weekend of the solid and familiar, the routine and the tradition, the love and the laughter, and the unconditional pure grace and forgiveness.

We come to hear the familiar phrases of, "Don't leave the door open." "Don't forget your life jacket." "The mosquitos are really biting."  "Children take showers outside."  "Who wants to give Papa a massage?" "I'll just have a smidgen." and "Sit a spell and talk before you head out."

We come where every adult is as likely to reprimand anybody's child misbehaving as they are to grab him/her up in a spontaneous hug.  We come where we know that the first day we will swim and tube, the second we'll sail, kayak, tube, and go to the beach.  We'll pick crabs and eat at Sal's the final night.  In between they'll be every sport and card game imaginable.  We come each loaded down with food for his/her assigned meal but knowing that everyone will

be gathering together for dinner. There is always a pasta casserole the first night, banana bread, blueberry muffins (in honor of and remembrance of Gangan) and fruit for some breakfast, always ice cream, and always gummy bears and worms.  We come with lacrosse sticks, volleyballs, swim suits, towels and needlepoint. We come knowing the same pictures will be taken in the same spots that we have used for 18 years, and we come missing those who couldn't be there this year.

Oldest to youngest

By height--changes every year

But most of all we come with our hearts full of  love- and we come with and for the stories.  The stories we've told for years and the new stories we bring each year.  And all these stories are tightly wound together; they are wound as if they were multiple colors of yarn.  Yarn that is wound together into a tight ball; they are wound together so that all the stories combined become not your story or my story but part of our story.  The story of the Cousins.

As we drive away each year, each cousin takes a hold of a piece of that yarn and carries it in his/her

heart back through the hedges at the end of the drive and into the world--back into our separate lives into our separate states, the ball unravels as we move out; we are each given the right amount of string to be ourselves, but it never breaks; we are  always connected at the core because we are "The Cousins."




More about Cousins' Weekend

A Letter to Gangan
Another Letter to Gangan
Cousins of the Heart