Here’s a piece of the Gospel that’s more potent than a triple espresso on a sleepy Sunday morning – especially as Luke presents it (Luke:14:25-27). Jesus challenges us: Anyone who comes to me without hating father, mother, brother, sister, spouse, children… (not talking about the occasional day when said person is acting like a “genuine pain in the neck” hate) you cannot be my disciple. Who would that leave as disciples? A bunch of holy haters? Who would want to follow someone who requires you to hate those you are closest to? This is crazy!

To begin to unravel this apparently insensitive, unloving and genuinely puzzling way for Jesus to sort out true from fake disciples, it helps to remember that Aramaic (the first language of Jesus), similar to its sister tongue Hebrew, is a primitive form of communication. Aramaic is predominantly oral. It doesn’t have all the sophisticated nuances of any modern language in this age of global communication. (And see how well we do communicating – even when we are using the same language!) The only way to make a comparison in ancient Aramaic is by lining up, side-by-side, opposing ideas – like love and hate.

In ancient Aramaic, in order to express preference you would have to say something like, “I love this, but I hate that.” There was no way to say, “I like blueberries better than I like zucchini.” Loyalty demanded that you give absolute preference to your tribal or clan chief. You would “love” your chief. You would pledge your life to your chief. You would “love” all the members of your nation, tribe, clan and family. This leaves all others to be “hated.”  This fierce allegiance made your group strong enough to survive. Is this much different than what dictators and militaries today require? 

So, what Jesus is saying in modern parlance is, “To be my disciple you need to put me first – ahead of all your other natural relationships – like family.” All those who do, have the tightest bond – even tighter than blood. He is not saying that we need to loathe, despise or have nothing to do with those we naturally love. “Hate,” as Jesus means it, is not hate – at least as we understand it.

The language Jesus used was radical in his day. Family, clan and tribe were the bedrock of social cohesion. He was calling people to a new, all-inclusive family that recognized only One as Abba of all peoples. The type of loyalty to which Jesus calls us is a major challenge. But it is not hateful of others. Jesus is asking us to put him before others in our life, and like him, to love God with all we are.

 

Our days are filled with choices. Some of these choices are simple and inconsequential, and some of them are tough and have potentially serious outcomes. On top of this, there isn’t any course in most schools to help us figure out what would be the better choice among the myriad that scream for a decision – NOW!  Is there a simple formula to help us to choose wisely and well?

One of the great figures of spirituality, wisdom and action of the 20th century was Mahatma Gandhi. He came to his deep understanding of things through suffering, seeking, learning, and patient practice. His way feels uncomfortable in our fast-paced, seek the easy way, avoid pain or monotonous work world. Gandhi’s way is inconvenient. Through his long journey to inner freedom and non-violent living, he discovered a clear, uncomplicated way to face choices and to decide.

Gandhi recommended that, when we are faced with a significant decision, we stop and think of the poorest person with whom we are acquainted (and some days it might be we ourselves who are most needy!) – not some abstract person living in misery somewhere, over there… Then imagine how my choice will impact that person’s life. Will that person’s life be better in some way for what I choose, or not? Might it even be worse because of my decision and action?

What we eat, what we drink, what we wear, what we choose to do, how we choose to live, impact the lives of countless others. Wherever we have a meaningful choice (we’re not talking about what color lipstick or which socks to choose today), it may be that human lives are at stake somewhere down the chain. When we make such choices, we need to consider whose lives could be unburdened and freer; whose lives might be dangerously shaken, or submerged, by the ripple-effect. At least, that’s what Gandhi would do.

Once upon a time, I read a reflection from a theologian (beware of people who play in the sandbox of theology). He was trying to make a point, which I never quite understood. For him, there is a distinction between the work of God and God’s work. This theologian insisted that we can do one, but not the other. But which one is which?

I’m writing this on Labor Day here in the United States. My guess is that we certainly can do godly work –  work inspired by God and that reflects the goodness and universal heart of God. But we as surely cannot do what only God can do. Our work, at its best, mirrors God’s.

God creates, continually. We can use our gift for creativity to make this world a better place. God reveals, continually. We can use our gifts for communication to make clearer the truth, beauty and goodness in all that is. We can use our communicative abilities to bring together what doesn’t seem (to our fearful hearts) to belong together – just like God does. God inspires, continually. We can use our gifts for lifting others up and helping them to see a new and a fuller vision of what is, and of what can be. God heals, continually. We can use our gifts to bring healing and peace to others. God liberates, continually. We can use our gifts to set people free from their illusions, and their belief in the seductive powers of darkness, by inviting them gently, lovingly into warm, welcoming light.

Our world is so terribly wounded, broken, hurting, lost, and wandering aimlessly. There is plenty of work that we can, and need to, do. We pray along with the verse from the Psalm (Psalm 90:16-17): “Prosper the work of our hands,” and the work of our hearts, our spirits, our minds, our lives. Prosper all that we do, moved by Your Spirit. Amen.