Theological Truth: Embracing that which scares us (even death) frees us to walk the way of Love.
It’s awkward, isn’t it? In this season of summer vacations and family reunions, here’s Jesus predicting son against his father, a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; and one’s foes will be members of one’s own household. I hope you only booked that beach condo for the weekend! What happened to nice Jesus? What is there for us to learn in these troubling words? Here’s a clue: It’s more profound than merely telling us to get over it.
There was once a parent whose sixth grader was feeling anxious about her new school and lack of friends. Her apprehension became particularly acute on the morning before the middle school’s get-to-know-one-another overnight retreat. During the morning drive to school, the parent attempted to dismiss the child’s fears by saying, “I’m sure you’ll be fine.” When that didn’t work, he tried reasoning with the young student, “It’s important for you to make friends.” The anxiety peaked as they entered the school’s parking lot, and the parent became increasingly desperate, resorting to such statements as “You need to calm down,” “Be brave!” and then in desperation and frustration yelling, “Just RELAX!” Not helpful.
Commanding calm is rarely effective. Perhaps you can remember a time in your own life when you were feeling afraid or anxious – maybe before taking an important exam or awaiting a call from the doctor. If your loved one responded with “RELAX!”, would that have calmed you down? Probably not. Confronting anxiety with anxiety does not reduce anxiety. If it’s obvious to us, certainly it is to Jesus, too.
So when Jesus says, “Have no fear,” and “Do not be afraid,” he isn’t requiring us to just toughen up and be brave. And when he encourages us to take up our cross, he’s not commanding us to calm down or insisting that we relax. He is smarter than that, more helpful than that. Jesus is laying out a blueprint of how to live the way of Love in the very real world of fear and anxiety – the way that allows for an accepting embrace of the fear, rather than either denying it or capitulating to it.
Consider the image of taking up the cross. Perhaps like me you grew up hearing “cross-carrying” as some sort of divine admission requirement. As if seeking suffering, enduring sacrifice, and rejecting pleasure would prove my worthiness to God or validate my redemption. Or that taking up the cross was God’s demand to dig ourselves out of the hole we’ve fallen into. It left me wondering if pain, suffering, and discomfort would somehow please God enough to secure my redemption. But that’s inconsistent with Jesus’ promise that he came that we may have life and have it abundantly, (John 10:10) and that his joy may be in us and that our joy may be complete. (John 15:11)
So what is Jesus trying to tell us in today’s troubling words about discord and division at the deepest levels? What is the valuable lesson for us to learn about losing life in order to find it? How can we hear Jesus’ encouragement to take up the cross and follow him as more helpful than just being told to RELAX!?
It helps to remember that Jesus is describing, not prescribing, what discipleship looks like. He’s describing what happens when our lives look dramatically different than the dominant culture. He knows firsthand. He was executed by an unholy alliance of both church and state. His goal wasn’t to make people mad, but living in the light of Gospel values always threatens the status quo of the world. The empire will strike back.
Jesus is giving us all a heads up. Remember, the cross represented Rome’s most dreaded means of execution. It was the empire’s ultimate threat to submit to their power and accept their domination. Or else. Not only was it an excruciating way to die but also a shameful way to go, a public humiliation for you and your family. It was the worst thing that could possibly happen to anyone.
When Jesus tells his disciples to take up the cross, he’s not saying, “There’s nothing to fear.” He’s obviously not suggesting utter submission to Rome in order to save their necks. And he’s definitely not telling them to “RELAX!” Jesus knows that following his way of Love will inevitably put them at odds with the ways of the world and even their own families. So rather than hiding in the darkness of fear, he’s preparing them to walk in the light of the Gospel. He’s teaching them that by accepting their weakness, they will experience God’s strength. By taking up their cross, they will discover the good news that the worst the world threatens is no match for the good that God intends.
It’s the same lesson St. Paul learned after praying three times for the thorn in his side to be removed. God said to him, “My grace is sufficient for you.” He learned the life-changing, death-defying truth that God’s “power is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Corinthians 12:8)
What are the crosses that we avoid taking up? To answer that requires each to ask, “What’s the worst thing that could happen to me? What frightens me the most?” It could be alienation from our kids, disappointment of our parents, ridicule from our social circle, or the shame of financial insolvency. Maybe it’s the loss of youth, looks, health, earning power, or professional identity. For many of us, becoming a burden to our family – physically or financially – is the worst thing that could possibly happen.
We all live with some lingering fear, some unspeakable shame, some resistance to admitting our lives aren’t perfect. Will the fear of these crosses paralyze us, or will we take them up?
In his poem “The Guest House,” the 13th-century mystic Rumi gives voice to Jesus’ teaching on the rewards of confronting our worst fears. He writes:
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.
Be grateful for whatever comes
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
What’s the worst thing that could happen to you? Your darkest thought? Your deepest shame? Your worst malice? Your deepest fears? Whatever they are, meet them at the door laughing. Invite them in.
Take up these crosses. Embrace and accept them, rather than being dominated by fear or shame of them. Hold them up to the light of the Gospel. These words are trustworthy and true: “Those who insist on clinging to their life and overly defending it, will lose it; and those who lose their life by accepting and embracing their worst fears and the inevitable cost of following the way of Love, will find it.” (Matthew 10:39)
This isn’t a command to relax. This is a way to discover and depend on the sure foundation of God’s loving-kindness.
— Fr. AJ Heine, Rector, Trinity Episcopal Church of Staunton
Fourth Sunday After Pentecost, June 25, 2023
Readings: Jeremiah 20:7-13; Psalm 69:8-11, 18-20; Romans 6:1b-11; Matthew 10:24-39
