“A call and a commission”
By Rev. Michael Stonhouse
Meditation – Friday, September 30, 2022
Luke 6:12-26 (Forward, p. 63) CEV p. 1063
By many of our modern standards, Jesus is positively weird, even counter cultural. First off, in His choice of disciples. I don’t think that Jesus could have chosen a more disparate, unruly, unqualified lot if He had tried. There were a bunch of beleaguered, salt of the earth fishermen, who were probably overworked and probably in debt to either local businessmen who had the local concession for fishing or the local tax collector for past income or dues. And there was a tax collector, as well. And, to make things all the ‘messier’ there was a Zealot, who certainly wouldn’t want to be even in the same room as a quisling, turncoat tax collector And oh, yes, there also Judas, Judas Iscariot, who appears to be the only non-Galilean in the group, an outsider then.
But then, He becomes even more odd, even more counter cultural. Instead of sugar-coating what they were to expect, instead of beguiling, sweet talking, His disciples with promises of great things, He pours out a vast torrent of blessings and woes. And funny thing about it: the so-called blessings sound ominously like a bunch of woes: blessed are you who are poor, or are hungry, or are mourning or unhappy, or are persecuted or harassed or insulted. I don’t know about you, but if I had been called by Jesus that day, and I heard this litany of blessings and woes, I would have really wondered what I had gotten myself into—and perhaps, even wondered whether I wanted to continue on with this discipleship business. But then, that is exactly what this discipleship is about; it isn’t all ‘easy street’. There are some very serious demands and costs. And yes, as Jesus says elsewhere, we will need to say ‘no’ to ourselves and our own plans and agendas and say ‘yes’ to Him, never knowing just where that will take us. And, yes, there are rewards down the road, but who knows when. Until then, just now, we just need to trust Him that it will be all right. Amen.
Forward notes: “Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh” (verse 21b).
“My husband died on my birthday. Many of my spirit-filled friends thought it was no accident. Still, it took me a while before I could grasp that my husband’s death on that day was not just by chance. I didn’t fully believe it until I looked at the plaque marking the spot in our church’s memorial garden where my husband’s ashes had been poured into the ground. I saw his birthday (Valentine’s Day) and my birthday (April Fool’s Day) together. It comforted me to see us forever linked together in that way. It was a vivid reminder that his love will always be with me.
“I have done a lot of weeping in the days, weeks, and now years since my husband’s death from dementia. The best advice I have been given is this: if I felt like crying, I should cry it out, all the way to the end. That has been enormously helpful. On the first anniversary of my husband’s death, as the pandemic was just beginning, my daughter and I and our curate stood at the gravesite. We reminisced about my husband, his funeral, his life, and his death. And yes, we also laughed.”
Moving Forward: “Is someone you know grieving? How can you support them in their grief?”