“Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever does not take up his cross and follow after me is not worthy of me.” (Mt 10.37-38)
Rabbi Harold Kushner shares a story in one of his books that makes the same point that the Teacher from Galilee seems to be making in the Scripture passage selected for this Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time. As Kushner tells the story, once there was a well-known rabbi who met a member of his congregation on the street one day. The rabbi said to the man, “I haven’t seen you in synagogue the past few weeks. Is everything all right?”
The man answered the rabbi, “Everything is fine, but I’ve been worshipping at a small synagogue on the other side of town.” The rabbi answered that he was surprised to hear it, explaining, “I know the rabbi of that congregation. He’s a nice enough guy, but he’s not the scholar I am. He’s not the preacher I am. He’s not the leader I am. What can you possibly get from leaving my synagogue to worship at his?”
The man answered the rabbi, admitting that what he had said was true, but that the other rabbi had other qualities. The man offered this example. “He can read minds, and he’s teaching us how to read minds. I’ll show you. Think of something. Concentrate on it. I’ll read your mind and tell you what you were thinking of.”
The rabbi concentrated for a few moments, after which the other man said, “You’re thinking of the verse from Psalm 16–’I have set the Lord before me at all times.’” The rabbi laughed, answering, “You couldn’t be more wrong. I wasn’t thinking about that at all.” The other man replied, “I know you weren’t. That’s why I don’t worship at your synagogue anymore.”
Today, we hear the Galilean Teacher ask his followers to “set the Lord before them at all times,” a failure to do so showing that they are not worthy of him. He uses the ordinary example of parents and children, an example with shock value for sure. “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me.” He follows with a similarly difficult challenge. “Whoever does not take up his cross and follow after me is not worthy of me.”
His point is not to dismiss the importance of our family to us, but to impress upon us the single-mindedness that the true follower has. The measure of the one who would follow the Galilean Teacher is in how far they will follow. Does the disciple follow so long as the road is paved and stop when it is rocky? Does the disciple follow so long as little exertion is required and stop when we start to sweat? Does the disciple follow so long as people praise us and stop when people criticize us? Where do we draw the line?
The radicalness of the Galilean Teacher’s words today is that he says the one who measures out sparingly his commitment or puts minimal effort into imitating his ways is not worthy of him, by which he means does not measure up to the task of discipleship. He wants disciples who will go all the way to the OK Corral with him, not disciples who run at the first sign of trouble.
Honestly, we all blanch when confronted with a requirement that calls for such a complete giving of ourselves to his way, wanting to step back when we step out of our comfort zone, desiring a way of life that is comfortable, not challenging, choosing a timid response rather than a bold response. None of us, we are quick to say, is crazy enough to want to carry a cross.
Perhaps it is for this same reason that a comic once showed a man walking in front of an outdoor church sign. The man turns to read the sign. It says: “Bethany Community–a ¾ Gospel Church. It is a sentiment with which we are familiar, a compromise we all make, a watering down of the way of life that the Galilean puts before us as the way to follow him. We are lucky if we are ¾ followers, more often halfway closer to the truth.
The Episcopal priest and writer Barbara Brown Taylor admitted as much herself when she wrote, “Because I am a Christian, I do it by imitating Christ, although I will be the first to admit that I want to stop about a day short of following him all the way.” She speaks for almost all of us, Christ followers who, like Peter on the night the Teacher was taken by soldiers, keep a safe distance, close enough to keep Jesus in sight, but far enough away that no real harm will come to us. The Son of God knew in his heart that Peter would deny knowing him, and he knows we also deny being with him, our denials both large and small, depending on how much skin we might lose.
Some years ago, A Nobel Prize recipient was asked to provide some biographical information. Among the questions asked was his religious affiliation. The scientist answered, “Probably Christian.” It is an answer that the Galilean Teacher would scoff at, seeing as how he disdained any commitment to his way that was lukewarm.
Still, the Teacher puts the challenge to us, urging us to do better than we have done, asking us to make more than a token commitment, offering us the chance to live in the world as he lived, with a heart full of love for everybody, with no exceptions. While it is a high calling, with our falling on our faces even on our best days, we have to strive to become more and more like the Teacher, even if our growth is slow and our backpedaling is frequent.
Coach Wooden was head basketball coach at UCLA for 27 years, retiring in 1975. He was known, not only for his 10 NCAA national championships, but also for his composure on the court, rarely ruffled by whatever happened during the game. A reporter once asked him how he managed to keep his cool with the pressure of coaching college basketball on him all the time.
Coach Wooden reached into his pocket and took out a wooden cross. He showed it to the reporter. He said, “When the pressure is on I hold that cross in my hand.” He explained, “Not as a good luck charm. I just hold it there to remind me that there is something more important than basketball.”
That is what the Nazorean is saying to his followers today, asking us to remember there is something more important than basketball. And that something is being a fully committed Christian.
–-Jeremy Myers
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