Sermon for Sunday, June 21

Gospel Lesson: Matthew 10:24-39

The cross is ubiquitous within Christianity, ubiquitous meaning everywhere, hanging inside sanctuaries and around our necks, on the tops of church steeples and on the walls of our homes, featured on bulletin boards and as part of children’s arts and crafts projects.  The most identifiable symbol of Christianity, the cross lies center stage among Christians not just aesthetically but theologically.  As Lutherans, we embrace a theology of the cross; that means we see God present in suffering.  In this morning’s gospel story, Jesus teaches the disciples about the cross: Whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me.  Of course, ancient followers of Jesus did not write down the gospels until well after Jesus was crucified and raised, but Matthew, Mark, and Luke all include this teaching of Jesus in the middle of their gospels.  Presumably, the disciples heard these words before they knew and far before they believed that Jesus would be crucified, that Jesus would die on a cross, that Jesus would literally take up the cross on his own back and walk to Golgotha.  Two thousand years later, we 21st century Christians can hardly pull apart the deep meaning, the rich symbolism of the cross from the life and ministry of Jesus.  But histories from the first century—not just the Bible—reveal to us that the Roman Empire used crucifixion, meaning death upon the cross, to silence opposition to the empire.  The Roman Empire used crucifixion to make an example of political dissidents.  The Roman Empire used crucifixion to publicly punish criminals.  In a world far more accustomed to brutal violence, crucifixion topped the list of tortuous devices meant for the very worst offenders, meant for those who challenged the authority of the empire.  That’s the cross Jesus teaches the disciples to take up. 

And this morning, Jesus’ transparent political message makes me laugh...and cry.  We Christians and definitely we preachers steer clear of political messages, but there is no doubt that in his own historical context, Jesus’ message is highly political.  He challenges the Roman Empire by calling his disciples to take up the cross, to deeply identify with criminals, rebels, slaves, to enter the cause of criminals themselves, people named criminals, that is, by the Roman Empire.  Jesus calls the disciples to get mixed up with people of disreputable intent, again, disreputable according to the empire, in order to embrace the way of Jesus. 

Ha!  Jesus, you make me laugh…and cry.  Following you is hard for a nice, Scandinavian, Minnesotan girl like me.  As a teenager and young adult, I really wanted to be nice.  I mean, I still do, but I took my nice crusade to another level a decade ago.  For me, niceness was sometimes grounded in deep kindness, love, and respect.  At other times, niceness was just a surface politeness coupled with internal judgment or indifference.  Jesus’ command this morning challenges this latter form of niceness.  Because Jesus does not command the disciples to pity criminals nor does he command them to help political dissidents.  Instead, Jesus commands the disciples to actively enter into the struggle of criminals and rebels, slaves and dissidents by taking up the same cross.  Which sounds beautiful rhetorically but looks super messy and feels very uncomfortable and actually painful at times.

I would say that sums up my personal journey of becoming aware of how I usually unconsciously express the racist values and norms of our culture and my journey of discovering my white privilege, that is, the ways my being white makes life easier for me.  I am grateful for some very kind people who clued me in for the first time about twenty years ago that my niceness wasn’t the same thing as right relationship.  Cringes all around—even in my memory.  And my journey, my anti-racist journey, continues, messy, uncomfortable, and sometimes painful.  For me, this journey is part of what it means to take up the cross, to walk the way of Jesus.

Jesus’ command to the disciples to take up the cross, to identify with those deemed problematic by a violent, unjust empire likely seemed an intellectual exercise to them…until Jesus himself took up the cross and erased all doubt about the group of people with whom he identified.  It occurs to me that Jesus too lived with a certain privilege.  We who believe that Jesus is God acknowledge that Jesus could have walked away from the cross, could have engineered a life without suffering, could have found another way to redeem all creation.  Of course.  But instead, Jesus took up the cross alongside two others deemed criminals by the Roman Empire.  He was one of them.  He didn’t pity them.  He didn’t help them.  He didn’t begin programs to reach out to them (however much those programs are good and helpful).  He was one of them. 

With whom do we identify?  Who is part of our community?  Who do we let it and make one of us?  Whose struggle do we enter, and how do we enter it?  I fear providing too pat an answer for these complex questions.  I fear offending or misspeaking.  I fear being labeled “political” in my preaching.  I fear my own lack of understanding about racism and white privilege—and how I look to others who are further along this journey.  I fear misinterpreting Jesus’ words.  I also fear presenting Jesus’ words only through the frame of race when, in reality, many peoples are marginalized.  And quite honestly, I fear the shame of not ever having preached this before. 

In my fear, I hear the words of Jesus from earlier in our scripture reading: ‘Have no fear’ of those who malign you.  ‘Do not fear’ human authority.  ‘Do not be afraid’ for you are of much value in the eyes of God.  Jesus acknowledges that the journey of following him is challenging, but he also releases the disciples from fear. 

Jesus preaches a deeply political message to the disciples who face political problems both during Jesus’ lifetime and after, during the formation of the early Christian church.  Jesus releases them from fear so that they might take up the cross, identify with those who suffer, enter into the struggle of those who are marginalized.  To take up the cross and follow Jesus is to live with a measure of messiness, uncomfortability, and pain.  But do not fear.  Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for Jesus’ sake will find it.  Thanks be to God!  Amen.