Jesus Will Kill You. And You Will Live.

Here is a sermon I preached on Matthew 10:16-39 last Sunday. Thanks to David Congdon for the thoughts about American security and the FDR quote.

I

If you read the June newsletter sent out a couple weeks ago, specifically the little bio section I put in there, you would have learned that I am the middle of five children. I have an older brother and sister and a younger brother and sister. People often ask me if I suffer from ‘middle child syndrome,’ and to be honest, I’m never quite sure what they are talking about. If there is such a thing, I don’t think I caught it. I love my family dearly, and I love my place in my family. The philosopher Ayn Rand said the highest human pleasure is that of admiration. If she’s right—and I’m inclined to think she is—then having older siblings is just about the best way to be human. And having younger siblings has taught me so much about life. I know the dignity of being admired, the pain of watching innocence slip away, and the joy of watching them pursue their own goals. I could go on and on about my family. I haven’t even mentioned my mom and dad, or my lovely wife. In short, my family is home. They are where I find sure footing.

Last time I preached I said that Jesus offends us. Well, he does it again this morning. And this time it hits home, literally. There are many striking things about our gospel passage this morning, and we’ll get to them, but one immediately jumps out at us. Jesus says to us,

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 enemies 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.

For those of us who are Americans, particularly those of us raised as Christians in America, this passage is utterly dumfounding. In America, “family values” are often at the heart of what many people think Christianity is about. Just two days ago, I participated in a survey sent out by the psychology department of my alma mater, Wheaton College. They wanted to survey recent graduates about how they are doing in their family lives, friendships, and spiritual lives. One of the questions that appeared in many different forms was the following: Agree or Disagree: My religious convictions are important to me primarily because they provide me with morals.

“Of course!” Many will say. “What else would religion be for?” And morals become important for people usually when they start a family—rightly so. Notice the language we use. We “settle down” to have a family. We stop the shenanigans of youth and “get serious.”  So in this country, most churches market themselves to families. It is families who are looking for order, structure and stability. The church is their supplier. Accordingly, when the family unit begins to break down—which is happening in this country—the church begins to break down—which is also happening in this country. No demand, no need for a supplier. Simple economics.    

Yet Jesus tells us that he came in order to break up the family unit.

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 enemies will be members of one’s own household.

Not quite what one would except from the family-friendly Jesus we are comfortable with. Jesus, apparently, is not “safe and fun for the whole family” as all the Christian radio stations put it.

II

Here in Matthew, Jesus is giving his disciples instructions as he sends them out to proclaim and enact the Kingdom. Remember what the Kingdom is. It is the long awaited hope of Israel that God would intervene in history and set up earth as a place where God’s law, his Torah, is followed everywhere by everyone—a place where Israel’s God is worshipped and where such worshippers love each other as family.

The gospel of Matthew (and all the other gospels) were written to tell the story of how Jesus showed up in Israel and said, “Now! Now is the time for the Kingdom. God’s future is closing in on us, you had better get ready.” Perhaps the most astonishing thing about the gospels is that Jesus announces the Kingdom and then proceeds to act as if people’s response to him is their response to God and his Kingdom. For example, Matthew records Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, where Jesus teaches his followers how to obey the law Kingdom-style. Matthew deliberately makes Jesus look like Moses—on top of a mountain, bringing teaching, giving blessings and curses. But unlike Moses, Jesus does not first receive his teaching from God. He just brings it on his own authority, as if Kingdom-style living were his own invention. Matthew’s terse conclusion to the Sermon on the Mount is incredibly suggestive. He writes, And when Jesus finished these sayings, the crowds were astonished at his teaching, for he taught them as one who had authority, and not as their scribes. We are left asking, “Who is this man?” Surprises like this happen all over the gospels. Indeed, the gospels are one big surprise. Jesus announces the Kingdom, and by the end of the story it turns out that he is the Kingdom.     

Our passage this morning has Jesus sending us out to proclaim and enact the Kingdom. And make no mistake, church, you are the ones sent. My job as the preacher is not primarily to explain this difficult text or offer some bland spiritual principle from it, but to echo in front of you Jesus’ urgent words: “Now! Now is the time for the Kingdom. Go tell others! And get ready for people to hate you.”

Jesus says, Get ready, I send you out as sheep in the midst of wolves…and you will be hated by all because of my name. The Kingdom of God is an affront to this world. And the Kingdom’s messengers will be hated by the world. Just as Jesus was mocked and laughed at and accused of working for the Devil and crucified by expedient political leaders, so will such things happen to those who follow him. The Kingdom of God does not soothe; it disrupts. It does not assure; it poses questions. And the Kingdom’s messengers will disrupt and ask questions. And they will be hated for it. 

So Jesus instructs his disciples, assuming that their lives as Kingdom proclaimers will be dangerous. Let’s be clear, though. Their lives won’t be dangerous because disciples are called to be stupid or naïve. Flippant attitudes like, “Mission work in foreign countries doesn’t require deep cultural knowledge and respect. We just need Jesus,” have no place in the Christian faith. A while back there was a big hubbub about some South Korean missionaries taken captive in Afghanistan. During the time, many reacted either with disdain for the Afghanis or pride at the bravery of the missionaries. But in retrospect certain facts came to light that illustrated that the missionaries made some poor decisions, for example hiring a member of the Taliban to drive them around in an inconspicuous bus. Disciples aren’t to look for danger through their ignorance. Jesus tells us, Be wise as serpents and innocent as doves. Christians are to engage the world with wisdom, wit, and intelligence. Our lives will be dangerous simply because the world is a dangerous place and disciples belong in the world, making known the Kingdom. 

Jesus’ main instruction to us as Kingdom missionaries is not to fear. We are not to fear the dangerous world we are called into. We are to fear God alone. God’s Kingdom—already real in Jesus, and coming upon us quickly—is the ultimate truth of all reality, not the kingdoms of this earth that totter and all pass away. God alone has the power to judge and condemn. The most we can do is kill each other. This is an awful lot, but it does not measure up to what God can do to us. God alone determines our destiny.

In our current situation, these words of Jesus need to be heard again and again, and the church should be speaking them. In America these days, we do indeed fear, but not God. As a country, we are inflicted with widespread paranoia. The most prominent American idol is not some TV star, it is not Materialism or Militarism (although we do worship these gods). The idol we worship most fervently these days is the false god named Security. We are a nation bound by fear itself, what FDR in his first inaugural address called “nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror.” And so we fall at the feet of Security. The airport is our sanctuary, the metal detector our ritual, and plastic bags full of liquids our thank offerings. The President is our pastor, congress our session, and the Middle East our mission field. But our god Security is never satisfied, is he? He cannot offer final salvation like Jesus, just endless defense against the unknown.

And then there is Jesus with his Word to us. Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; rather fear him who can destroy body and soul in hell…Do not think I have come to bring peace to the earth. I have not come to bring peace, but a sword…Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it. In our world of violence and insecurity Jesus does not offer security. He does not offer a way to cope. He does not offer “family values” to stabilize us. He offers death and resurrection. The simple fact is that following Jesus will kill you—not make you safe. The Christian faith is not an escape from this world. What it offers is not life after death but rather a way to die that leads to resurrection. Disciples are called to face death head on, not run from it. For many Christians throughout the centuries, and still today, this meant literal death at the hands of aggressors. For us, it may come to that, and we should be ready. But it also means that we should seek out the places in this world where death holds its grip, and wrestle people out of its grip. We are supposed to be at hospitals, gravesides, prisons, rehabilitation units, undereducated neighborhoods, and thousands of other deadly places, public and private, offering the hope of resurrection to those burdened with death. Disciples of Jesus are drawn to death, because they know that’s where resurrection is promised. When they lose their lives for the sake of Jesus, they find them. Jesus will kill you. And you will live. Lose your life for Jesus’ sake, and you will find it. Listen to the apostle Paul on this matter:

We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies. For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh. 

III 

Back to family. All of this rhetoric probably sounds overdrawn and a bit drastic. It probably doesn’t resonate with how we experience the world and our place in it as Christians—though maybe it does for some of you. For most of us, reality is a bit more hum drum. We don’t think in terms of life and death when we walk out of the door each morning. The regularities of family life give shape and rhythm to most of our lives. Our most pressing concerns are stable families, a secure career, a diversified portfolio, decent children, and a few satisfying hobbies. “Family values” really are important to us. I’m not here to rail against these things. They are blessings from God, and as I said, Christians are not called to be naïve or stupid. We ought to run well-ordered homes. It is good for me to cherish my family and rely on them for strength and support.

But let’s not miss the force of this text this morning. Jesus speaks with stark words, and we can’t get around the fact that his gospel is a disruptive call. It has the power to break apart a family when family is a hindrance to radical discipleship. It can and does bust apart our hum drum lives and call us to take risks. We should follow Jesus not primarily because he offers us morals but because he faced death head on and came out alive on the other side. 

Most of us will not face literal death for our decision to follow Jesus. But we might, and we should be prepared for it. All of us will die, and, at the very least, we need to be trained how to face our deaths like Jesus did, as an act of obedience. Most of us, rather, face a barrage of daily decisions, each of which is an opportunity to follow Jesus or construct our own lives. And following Jesus in the barrage of daily decisions will feel like death. But it is the only way to life. Amen.