Like Father, Like Son Pastor Mark Havel

Matthew 10:24-39

“A disciple is not above the teacher, nor a slave above the master; it is enough for the disciple to be like the teacher, and the slave like the master. If they have called the master of the house Beelzebul, how much more will they malign those of his household!

“So have no fear of them; for nothing is covered up that will not be uncovered, and nothing secret that will not become known. What I say to you in the dark, tell in the light; and what you hear whispered, proclaim from the housetops.

“Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell. Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. And even the hairs of your head are all counted. So do not be afraid; you are of more value than many sparrows.

“Everyone therefore who acknowledges me before others, I also will acknowledge before my Father in heaven; but whoever denies me before others, I also will deny before my Father in heaven.

“Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I have come to set a man against his father, and 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.

“Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.”

My oldest son, Jackson, who is 22, spent a rainy morning with me on vacation in South Haven, Michigan, this past week, milling around a couple of antique stores there. (“Antique malls,” actually, is what the call them.) It has to be raining and/or vacation for me to do much resembling “antiquing,” but I was there for the nostalgia of seeing old toys from my childhood and whatever vinyl records I might find. Jack was there for the sports memorabilia and baseball cards. He scored a few of the latter and I found myself a pretty clean copy of Bruce Springsteen’s “Darkness on the Edge of Town.”

While we were looking through a treasure trove of old Sports Illustrated magazines – mostly from the 1970’s and 80’s – a stranger walked by, looked at Jack, then looked at me, then probably back at Jack, and declared, “Well that apple didn’t fall far from the tree, did it?” We both laughed and I told him we’d heard that before. To which he said, with awe, “It’s remarkable.” I don’t always think we look THAT MUCH alike, though many of you have said so, over the years. But when a stranger notices and feels compelled to call it out in public, I guess there’s no denying it.

And it’s always been a compliment to me – even if I can’t always see it – that I share a resemblance with either of my boys. But anyone who’s ever been 12 or 13 or 16 or 17 knows the LAST thing you’d count as a compliment is for someone to think you look like one of your parents.

You know, those times in childhood and adolescence when you can’t stand being seen with, let alone be seen as looking like, your mom or your dad. You know, those moments when kids stop holding mom’s hands at the store; when they cringe anytime dad makes conversation with their friends; or when they rush from the car in the school drop-off line as if the vehicle was on fire.

And all of this had me thinking about some of what I hear Jesus saying in this morning’s Gospel. Specifically, it made me think of what it means when Jesus talks about acknowledging or denying God, the Father, in our daily lives.

See, Jesus uses all sorts of images, illustrations and hyperbole today – and it’s okay … important … faithful … and a relief, actually, to recognize some of this as exaggeration and hyperbole. All of this talk about peace and swords, setting family members against one another, about not being worthy of Jesus, is nothing more and nothing less than naming the seriousness of our call to be disciples and followers of Christ in the world. So I don’t we need to take Jesus LITERALLY at every turn, this morning, as long as we take him SERIOUSLY. Because discipleship is a serious thing. It was in the days of the Jesus and it is meant to be, still. It calls for bold confession, faithful practice, and courageous action, more often than we’re always inclined.

And, remember, Jesus is talking to his first disciples today, knowing all sorts of persecutions and temptations are in store for them because of what he’s asking. When he talks about coming “not for peace, but with a sword,” he’s not doing away with his title as the Prince of Peace or with his command to love one another – AND our enemies. Jesus is saying that, too often, the kind of amazing, radical, counter-cultural, life-changing grace, mercy, and peace God offers is more than some people can handle. And that in order to really get it and to truly proclaim it and to faithfully share it means to surprise and to separate and to send people reeling from time to time.

(If you need proof of the kind of threat that sort of grace is to some people, you should see some of the hateful, frightening comments I hid from my Facebook feed after posting just a clip from my last sermon. Among other things, you should know, I’m an evil, demonic, blaspheming, false prophet who’s going straight to Hell – I deserve it – and I’m bringing all of you with me.)

All of this is to say, Jesus wants his people – his people – to be realistic about, and ready for, the consequences of what real, faithful, kingdom-living may lead to in our lives and in this world.

Because doing that well – living faithfully, I mean – is hard work. When you stand up for justice for the “least of these,” that often means challenging the systems that protect the powerful. When you speak truth to power, power doesn’t always like what you have to say. When you speak the truth, even in love, the response is often denial and fear and hatred of that very truth and of those who proclaim it.

And that kind of faithful living gets people like Martin Luther excommunicated. It gets people like Nelson Mandela thrown into jail, people like Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Martin Luther King, Jr., Renee Good, and Alex Pretti, killed. It gets women in some denominations thrown out of the pulpit. And, of course, all of it got Jesus, himself, crucified, too.

And those are some tough shoes to fill. I wonder how many of us have had the opportunity or would have the courage and the faith to live out our faith like some of these giants. So we do our denying on a smaller scale, don’t we? When we drive by the hungry person on the street corner… When we let the racist comment slide… When we laugh with the bullies or at the queer kids and the sexist jokes on the White House lawn... When we add our two cents to the gossip mill... When we vote with our self-interests, first.

So what are we to do with Jesus’ promise – or threat – when he says, “Everyone who acknowledges me before others, I also will acknowledge before my Father in heaven. And everyone who denies me before others, I will also deny before my father in heaven”?

What I hear him saying isn’t so much that those who deny Christ or fail at this call to faithful discipleship are doomed or damned for all eternity. It’s not that if we don’t live up to the high bar of King or Mandela or Bonhoeffer, we’re out of luck. Remember, he also promises that we hold more value than many sparrows, who, even though they fall, are never beyond the reach of God’s care.

What I hear Jesus acknowledging is that God – the Father of all creation – knows, like so many good parents know, what it feels like to have his children deny or be embarrassed by their likeness to their Creator: to drop his hand at the grocery store, you might say; or rush by with friends to avoid any awkward conversations; or to shrink down in the seat and hurry from the car hoping no one notices who’s in the driver’s seat.

What I hear Jesus saying to his disciples and to each of us, is that it’s time to grow up. He’s inviting us to embrace the claim of God, the Father, on our lives and to start living in the joy, responsibility, and challenge of that holy calling.

Just like it’s hard to pinpoint exactly when children begin distancing themselves from their annoying, embarrassing parents, it’s difficult to pinpoint a precise moment when they begin to turn around and to start re-building those more mature bridges of relationship, connection, respect, and admiration, too.

But, believe it or not, kids, it happens! There comes a time when the comparisons and resemblances to our parents seem pretty small in the grand scheme of things – and even beautiful and holy and remarkable, the more mature we get, if we’re lucky. I got a glimpse of it with Jackson last week in that antique store. And I hope my mom and dad have noticed it over the years, too.

And I hear Jesus calling our attention to that same reality when it comes to our relationship with God. He’s inviting us ...