Monday, September 5, 2016

Reflection on Luke 14:25-33



A number of years back, you probably heard some version of The Hand Song by Nickel Creek on the radio.  Chances are that you heard a pop music version of the song, but the original Nickel Creek bluegrass version is the best. Follow this link if you would like to listen to the song before continuing:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j3MwvG7tmpo

The boy only wanted to give Mother something
And all of her roses had bloomed.
Looking at her as he came rushing in with them
Knowing her roses were doomed,
All she could see were some thorns buried deep
And tears that were cried as she tended his wounds

And she knew it was love      
It was one she could understand 
He was showing his love,
And that's how he hurt his hands.       

There are sacrifices, and then there are sacrifices.  The first type of sacrifice is the common type of sacrifice where you decide to give up a few years of vacation so that you can save up to buy that boat you always wanted.  It is a sacrifice of pleasure in order to get something you desire even more.  There is nothing wrong with this type of sacrifice, but it is not the type of sacrifice we think about when Jesus says, Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.”

Followers of Jesus have a certain type of sacrifice in mind when they talk about taking up the cross.  It is a sacrifice that shapes what it means to be a follower of Christ in the first place.  It is a sacrifice that is not entirely common, so we hang crosses in our places of worship and around our necks so that we cannot forget. 

Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.”  When disciples of Christ hear those words, “carry the cross and follow me,” they think of an act that is done out of love for someone else that costs something.  Like the child who picked roses for his mother because he wanted her to feel loved and wanted her eyes to sparkle with joy, it is a sacrifice that cost him some bloody and scarred hands. 

When disciples of Christ hear the words, “carry the cross and follow me,” they picture a particular sacrifice; the sacrifice of Jesus.

He still remembers that night as child
On his mother's knee
She held him close and she opened her bible
And quietly started to read,
And seeing a picture of Jesus he cried out,
"Momma, he's got some scars just like me."

And he knew it was love      
It was one he could understand 
He was showing his love,
And that's how he hurt his hands.       

When we walk around town and grasp the cross around our necks, we are reminded of a sacrifice done out of love for us that cost something dearly.  How far is Jesus willing to go to show us clearly that love and life always prevail?  The cross. 

As we feel the edges of the cross under our fingers, we are reminded once again what it means to be a follower of Jesus.  It is to be a person who finds life and joy in sacrifice. Because of that, we follow Jesus by loving others enough to sacrifice something of ourselves for their sake. 

Taking up the cross, we are fine getting along without material pleasures so that someone else can have food and shelter…so that someone else can find life. 

Taking up the cross, we defend the weak and help the outsider, even if it means clashing with the ideologies that members of our family hold.  Some of us lose our families so that someone who is scorned by others can feel loved. 

Taking up the cross, we seek to help the person on who everyone else has given up; the lost cause.  We do this not because it is easy (it is not), but because Jesus never gave up on us.  On the cross, Jesus never gave up loving a single one of us. 

As noble as all of that sounds, I must admit that taking up the cross is not easy.  It is painful.  It leaves scars on our hands.  But, as followers of Christ, we take up the cross anyway because these sacrifices are our way of telling Jesus’ story of love and new life.  When we follow Jesus and when we make these Christ-like sacrifices, it is as if we too have found life again, even when we might have lost a bit of our own lives in the process.

Now the boy's grown and moved out on his own
When Uncle Sam comes along.
A foreign affair, but our young men were there
And luck had his number drawn.
It wasn't that long till our hero was gone
He gave to a friend what he learned from the cross.

And they knew it was love      
It was one they could understand 
He was showing his love,
And that's how he hurt his hands.

Grace is not cheap.  It is not a cheaply made toy that is handed out to everyone, but is of such low quality that no one cares when it is lost.  Grace is costly.  It comes with a price: Jesus’ own bloody and scarred hands. 

Grace is a sacrifice.  But, that is what makes it grace.  It is a sacrifice, for our sake.  It shows us that we were worth the purchase.  We were worth the love. 

When we feel that cross beneath our fingers, and are reminded of Jesus’ sacrifice of grace, our eyes cannot help but be opened to see those around us who also need that sort of grace.  So, we lean down and pick up our crosses, because following in ways of sacrifice are how we tell Christ’s story of love.  Following in ways of sacrifice are how we give life to people who have somehow lost their own life.  Sacrificing our hands is always worth the cost.  So I sing:

And they knew it was love      
It was one they could understand 
We were showing God’s love,
And that's how we hurt our hands.

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