Copyright: Kerra Becker English
The Cost of Discipleship
Psalm 139; Luke 14: 25-33
September 8, 2013
In just a moment, I’m going to I read a paragraph that I came across this week. It’s one that I’ve
read and re-read, and then tried to read in context again. Pairing it with this week’s gospel
reading – it may either be illuminating, or just add to the confusion. When Jesus talks about
letting go of things we love so we can pick up a cross and follow, who really wants to listen to
that? Even in my most enlightened moments, that concept can be a tough one. So perhaps we can
attempt to figure some of it out together.
Here it goes - from Psychiatrist Gerald May:
“It is well known that spiritual growth is accompanied by a gradual lessening of attachment to
various desires. In the beginning, one may quite accurately perceive that nearly all of one’s
motivations come from some sort of attachment, from the desire to gain pleasure and avoid pain,
to ensure security and success, and to avoid loss of control. But in the course of spiritual
maturation, these sources of motivation begin to wane – often without the individual immediately
realizing it – and this can cause some real consternation.” (Care of Mind, Care of Spirit,
Gerald May, p. 98)
Well, until recently, I couldn’t have told you that spiritual growth would be so directly linked to
a gradual lessening of attachment to various desires. Well known? Really Dr. May? I’ve been a
pastor for a fairly long time now – been to seminary and everything. If something about spiritual
growth is supposedly well known, maybe I should have heard about it before now. One might
think that seminaries would offer a course on “Lessening Attachments to Gain Discipleship” or
that congregations would make it a priority to teach Sunday school classes on giving away the
possessions that possess us or stepping off the success treadmill. It makes me wonder – is this
principle really all that well known and I just missed it? Or do we actively hide from spiritual
growth because it signifies a huge loss in the areas of our lives that we find satisfying by our
usual standards?
In some ways, it’s probably both, I missed it because I was busy doing exactly the opposite of
the things that bring spiritual growth. I was busy seeking pleasure, avoiding pain, ensuring
personal security and avoiding loss of control. “Check” on all those things. And alas, I also think
that belonging to a church can set us up for avoidance of true spiritual growth. The church is a
GREAT place to hide because we can claim to be nurturing our spirits but not really take that
ultimate step of giving up anything. The church, along with much of our culture, does a fabulous
job of setting us up for spiritual stagnation. Self-help advocates teach us to pursue pleasure and
avoid those things that would hurt us. We live in a society that is willing to give up a whole lot of
freedom and privacy to achieve a sense of security. Loss of control is taboo. We’d rather do
anything than be seen as “out of control.”
So I do agree with Dr. May that consternation is an expected consequence of riding out those
spiritual growth opportunities. Some might say that a good spiritual awakening looks more like a
breakdown than a success. For me, I know that’s true. The times when I’ve grown the most in
spirit have been painful and awkward, and were accompanied by giving up things that I thought I
wanted, or that I thought were important for me to want. That’s the part that may be well known
– but it’s only well known, I think – in looking backward. When I was in a life stage that was
about “giving up” I didn’t see spiritual progress at work, I saw only frustration, depression, and
loss. I couldn’t convince myself how grateful I was going to be for throwing myself into a
painful situation. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Though I have sometimes known that doing
the “right” thing was going to be a rough ride from a personal perspective, God was the only one
who seemed to know where those losses would take me.
Jesus tries to prepare us for this, but we are hesitant to listen. It all sounds too harsh. He says,
“Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and
sisters, yes, and even life itself cannot be my disciple.” We have to come to hate life in order to
experience real life in its fullness. There’s a spiritual paradox to chew on for awhile. When those
spiritual growth moments hit us full on, those closest to us are more likely to see the breakdown,
not the awakening. They may want us to cut it out and get back to our old lives. It’s not easy to
watch someone else suffer – even if it means that they are experiencing the pain of new growth.
This message is not hard to find throughout Jesus’ many speeches on what it means to be a
faithful disciple, but it is hard to believe. I haven’t always believed it. I couldn’t always see it.
And yet, I’m starting to recognize the power in this precursor to understanding the glory behind
death and resurrection. We must die to self to live for something greater. It’s what Jesus kept
telling us – and then showed us through facing his own trial and death to prepare the way for
new life to come.
The mystical traditions and some of the more brilliant strands of psychology have recognized
this connection with the True Self. The False Self has to die for me to comprehend the me that is
really me. This is about the soul, the inner being, the part of us that is created absolutely in the
image of God. To get to that place, all outer images of my own making must die. It is a
resurrection truth. All my roles are gone in that instant – and that means even the ones that
matter the most to me – pastor, mother, wife, friend. I become connected to the whole – and
that’s what qualifies me, you, or anyone to be a disciple of Christ. It’s a lot to give up. That’s
why Jesus talks about counting the cost. If you’re going to build a tower, will you run out of
money? If you’re going to fight a battle, will your soldiers be annihilated by the enemy? If
you’re going to delve into the very being of your soul, are you really ready for what will be
asked of you?
In Presbyterian-land, it is rare if not unheard of for us to talk about those spiritual experiences
that rock our world, the mind-blowing connections with God that change our lives completely.
We are hesitant to share those with our spouse or our children, let alone to release them into the
broader community. Our spiritual awakenings, ahem breakdowns, are not something we want to
talk about. And that’s sad. Every day people choose to quietly change their lives, to start again,
to shed falsehood and embrace the trueness of their being, and we call those folks crazy. We’re
ill at ease when someone talks about an experience of God reorienting who they are and
connecting them to something so vital, so vibrant. Our muted colors suit us just fine, thank you
very much.
I am reminded as I hang around more people who tell these stories of transformation that our
connections with God are that powerful. Oftentimes those moments are beyond words. When we
start to describe them, they lose their impact. And yet, they are the seeds of change, the
reckonings that make us new and give us the courage to follow Jesus to places we never thought
we could go. I pray that more and more we will see that kind of foolishness, that kind of reckless
charge ahead that says, I will build that tower, I will take those troops into battle, I will give it all
away to make a difference in this old world and I will do those things others say cannot be done.
That’s the cost of discipleship. If you thought it was going to be easy, if you thought that
following Jesus meant living the same old life that has grown comfortable all around you, think
again. I can’t exactly say what you will have to give up, but something will be required of you,
maybe something has already been demanded of you. In this passage, Jesus says it will be your
possessions. The mystical tradition and good ol’ Dr. May says that you will give up your
attachments. Spiritual maturity, honest to God discipleship, carries a weighty cost. There’s no
getting around it. What possesses you or causes you to hold on too tightly, I cannot say. I think it
can be different for each person. But whatever it is, let it go. Even if it makes you sad, or
grumpy, or scared, let it go. If you’re family and friends try to convince you to hold on, still, let
it go. Yes, even your life itself as you have known it, let it go. Your true life will be waiting on
the other side. Amen.