Sermon - June 27, 2010

5th Sunday after Pentecost
I Kings 19:15-16, 19-21 & Luke 9:51-62

That to Which our Heart Clings

I will apologize ahead of time, in case you are not one of those who appreciates sports references. I would agree with you, and make use of a cliché, in noting that sometimes it does seem as if we are caught up in a culture determined to “amuse ourselves to death.” BUT, did you get caught up in the excitement of that tennis match which began last Tuesday and stretched all the way to Thursday? In case you didn’t, and aren’t sure you heard me, the game started on Tuesday and was not completed till Thursday. They did stop at night – no lights on the courts where they were playing – but the match lasted 10 hours. 10 hours. That is a long time to play tennis. The pair involved, knew they were making history. They also knew that they were extremely tired. But what were they going to do? One reporter, a former tennis player, surmised how they might be feeling. “You can’t just stop. Someone, eventually, has to win the match.”

“You can’t just stop.” I am not so sure about that. I think I might have found a way to stop, after the first 125 games or so.

But then again, I probably wouldn’t have, had I been one of the two. I would hope that I would have had the strength and the dedication to remain faithful to that which I had set out to do. The reporter is right, “You can’t just stop.” Not, if that toward which you are striving, is the goal you desire above all else.

Jesus is with his disciples. He is talking to them about things which really matter. He is vetting the group, to see whether they will “just stop;” or whether they have the strength and dedication to continue on. They seem energetic enough. Two of them, James and John, are even ready to bring in the heavy equipment. But Jesus needs to know whether they are indeed in this to the end, or if they would be inclined to “just stop” when the hours get long and the course becomes difficult.

One of the downsides to having our lessons printed on the back of our bulletins, rather than finding them in our individual Bibles, is the difficulty in understanding the context in which these 12 verses occur. Jesus is about to appoint the 70, who will fan out from the tight group of followers, in order to proclaim the good news which Jesus announced in the temple in Nazareth. There will be celebrations associated with their work; there will also be disappointments. It is not the success of the messengers which concerns Jesus; his interest is their dedication to the task. He wants to say something to them which will prevent them from stopping when the task proves to be more exhausting than they had anticipated.

“Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head,” he tells them. “Let the dead bury their own dead; but as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God,” he reminds them of their task. And finally, he states clearly what he expects of them, “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.”


If two guys playing tennis understand how important it is to keep going, shouldn’t it be said of Jesus’ followers that there is no quit in us, either? No quit, even though the going is not always going to be easy or simple.

On most Sundays, there is a gentle suggestion that as Christians we have it easier than our forebears in the faith - our Jewish ancestors. But not on this day. When Elisha is called/when he is invited to follow the way of the Lord he is allowed to return home, cook a ceremonial meal and say his good-byes. That may have been the way it happened to Elisha, but when the prophet of the New Covenant casts his mantle upon potential followers, he gives them no opportunity to place their houses in order. “Let the dead bury their own dead,” Jesus says. “You have other work to do.”

“Foxes have holes...”


Jesus wasn’t looking back. He is so set on getting to Jerusalem and getting down to the serious business that he looks right past the folks he is currently with. We have an image in our minds that as long as Jesus was traveling along, through the countryside, that the crowds kept flocking to him. We have this image of a gentle and caring Jesus moving from one town to another as he preaches, teaches and heals the sick. We carry with us this notion that it was only when he got to Jerusalem were there was political intrigue and power struggles that folks began to reject him. But no, this isn’t the way it happened. Here, only nine chapters into Luke’s Gospel, we already see a shift. A change has happened in Jesus. A transformation (perhaps transfiguration) has altered the way Jesus sees those along the way and the way they experi¬ence him. He set his face to go to Jerusalem. This village of the Samaritans would not accept him. They could tell that he wasn’t really with them, he was looking past them. He had his eyes focused on where he was going and he wasn’t going to look back or even from side to side.¬

When Jesus calls his disciples he invites them to join him in this single-minded mission.


My personal notes on this passage include a comment made in a bible study that at no other point in the gospels does anyone turn down a direct invitation from Jesus to “Come and follow.” The rich young man doesn’t follow Jesus, but the interaction which leads to that invitation was initiated by the young man, not by Jesus. Here, it is Jesus who does the asking and his invitation is rejected. My fellow bible-study participant pointed out that nowhere else in scripture is an invitation initiated and extended by Jesus meet with rejection.

The village could tell that his face was set to go to Jerusalem. When asked to come along, it was obvious that this was serious business.

And it is serious business. Serious for Jesus, serious for them, serious for you and me.

“Our god,” writes Luther, “is that to which our heart clings.” Some will cling to their power and prestige. The hearts of others will cling to their material possessions. Still others will find themselves occupied with family and friends. I often find myself concerned that I have let community service become the central focus of my heart. While all of these things are important - vitally important - none are worthy of the prime devotion of our heart. Only One can occupy that space and in so doing enable us to satisfy all others aspirations. Our hearts must cling to Christ.


This is what Jesus is inviting his hearers to do. He wants to find out whether there are things - any things - which are more central to the lives of his followers. He knows that nothing else can bear the weight and responsibility of being one’s Savior.

When the village of the Samaritans reject Jesus, James and John want to call upon the heavens to rain fire down upon them. Jesus rebukes James and John for suggesting such a thing. Failing to embrace this harsh call to disciple¬ship does not lead to God’s punishment. The inability to make Christ the thing to which our heart clings means that we have missed a wonderful opportunity. Jesus has not desire to further punish those who refused to become his disciples. Their choosing to adhere to something else is tragic enough. The Kingdom of God had come close to them, so very close to them, and they had failed to join in.


When our hearts cling to Christ all of earth and all of the heavens are ours. Nothing stands in our way and nothing will ever overcome us. This is the promise; this is the hope; this is the faith of the Church, the faith in which we baptize.

Amen.