The Cost of Discipleship and the Prodigal God
One of the turns of phrase which light me on fire (and not in a good way) is "The Old Testament God..." Puh-Leez! If we're seeing anything in our readings this week in both Deuteronomy and Luke, it's that while the historical contexts and the narrators might be different, and main speakers be different, one thing is the same: the cost of discipleship, the cost of being God's people. And there is one. At least one.
But the promise is life everlasting, the Kingdom of God on earth as it is in heaven...priceless...And God sees us as priceless, too: seeking us, finding us, welcoming us home with outrageous generosity.
Ours is truly a Prodigal God. ("Prodigal" referring to the son's extravagance, not his going away and coming back--which I didn't figure out 'till I was in seminary...) God's love is extravagant....Through the Passover and Exodus, freeing God's people from slavery and giving them a land flowing with milk and honey... Through Jesus Christ our Passover, his life, death and resurrection, giving us life eternal.
But we have to choose to accept this gift.
The Children of Israel had to choose-- choose to leave what was familiar in Egypt (even familiar oppression...it was still familiar and in its own way, "safe"...), choose to trust in God's providence (and when they didn't, wander 40 years as a consequence), choose to trust that God is God enough, and that they do not need to worship any other gods--especially the gods of the neighboring people, and the people God would drive out of the Land on their behalf. The cost is "you don't get to be like them..."
We have to choose... and we have to choose to love God, to love Jesus, more than anything else, lest we make an idol of anything else, supplant God's place in our lives.
This is what is happening in both Deuteronomy and Luke. And it's not pretty, really. During the Advent Evening Program, in dealing with the theological concept of Hell, we talked about how Hebrew literature and rhetoric is not subtle. Not even a little subtle. The Hebrew language is not a subtle language. It is bare and stark and powerful. It is colorful and vibrant. But it is not subtle. This is the language and rhetoric of the Deuteronomist. It is extreme-- but remember, the Deuteronomist is trying to make sense of why the Covenant seems to have been broken, as seen in the destruction of Jerusalem and the deporting of the best and the brightest to Babylon. The Deuteronomist must make sense of this, and so lays out these extremes.
And while his daily language would have been Aramaic, Jesus' formation as an observant Jew would mean that he was steeped in the tradition and language and rhetoric of the Hebrew Bible. So while we might be startled by the strength of Jesus' words, harshness, even, we should not be surprised.
One of you, understandably, asked me to address Jesus' words in Luke 14, in which he says,
26 "If anyone comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters-yes, even their own life-such a person cannot be my disciple. 27 And whoever does not carry their cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.
Partly, this is an issue of translation-- Jesus' Aramaic, to Luke's Greek, to our English. The word translated here as "hate" gives this verse more of a meaning of "If you do not love me more than father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters--yes, even their own life...." And Matthew's rendering of this saying of Jesus is usually translated more along those lines.
However, this should not be seen as easing up on us, or lessening the cost of discipleship. There is a cost. But the promise is so much greater.
(If you are interested in reading what a whole bunch of really smart folk have written about the difficulty of Luke 14:26-27, You can find ample material here at TextWeek.)
I'm enjoying how our readings in the Hebrew Scripture and New Testament seem to be speaking to one another across the years. I hope you are, too.
Thank you for being on this journey,
Peace,
Paige+
