This may be said of athletes preparing for the Olympics, of those of us anticipating the course of our economy, and of those of us called to Discipleship in Jesus Christ.
The first seems glorious, unless of course you imagine yourself practicing six or seven hours a day toward your goal. When we reflect on the cost of athletic discipline, most of us have passed on that glory without too much regret. Thanks, but "No Thanks!"
The second, the economy, seems totally out of our control, unless in accepting this near certainty, we adjust our plans and lifestyle to anticipate leaner times ahead. It's ominous, but for most of us, it seems "Do-able."
And the third, the matter of Discipleship, may not have much of an impact on us at all, because we rarely ponder the cost, or even the value, of discipleship.
We are here at this altar, the threshold of Heaven, with every intention of serving the Lord, but hoping he doesn't ask much of us.
We hear it occasionally before the offering is taken, and we heard it last week, in the selection from Romans:
I beseech you, brethren, by the mercies of God, to present
yourselves as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God,
which is your spiritual worship. Romans 12:1
What is it, to be as a living sacrifice?
I believe that being as a living sacrifice means being ready to live our lives more closely to that of Christ, pushing the envelope as witnesses and as disciples, according to our station and according to our opportunities in our lives. I believe being as a living sacrifice means seeking opportunities to serve, not just "enduring " the inconvenience of our Christianity.
Such was the challenge for Peter in today's Gospel. By and large, to this point in their presence with Jesus, the disciples of Christ were people pretty comfortable with their role as observers of the actions and words of Jesus. And while Peter exercised great insight and discernment in proclaiming Jesus, "the Messiah, the Son of the Living God," he really didn't have to exercise very much courage. His acknowledgment and proclamation was made in the safe environment of his fellow apostles.
Today, however, Jesus continues his exposition to the Apostles in very harsh terms. After Jesus' great affirmation of the Holy Spirit at work in the heart of Peter, just as quickly Jesus accounts Peter as a "Satan" for his attempt to deflect Jesus from his mission and destiny.
Peter says, "God forbid it, Lord! This must never happen to you." But deep down, Peter realizes that the people in the shadow of Jesus risk the same destiny as Jesus, particularly if it appears that Jesus may not be there to protect them.
To be as a living sacrifice. Paul offers some suggestions as the beginning of discipleship today in Romans. Most of his adages seem to flow seamlessly, one to another. But some of these transitions are not as simple as the manner by which they trip from the tongue.
Outdo one another in showing honor. Honor to whom? Everybody! Without expecting anything in return.
Be patient in suffering. I don't know about you, but I rather relish whining.
Do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly. I don't think it will take too much for me to transcend haughtiness, (though some of you might take exception to that,) but I for one do not feel anywhere ready to associate with the lowly, unless I stay in control of the agenda with them. When I've had enough, at this point, I want to keep the option to walk away. I'll surrender my pride, but I'm not too sure about surrendering my power.
Then there's the clincher: Do not claim to be wiser than you are. Ouch!!
From this, then, let us ponder the power and will of God, expressed in Exodus today.
Moses finds himself in the presence of His God, who does not acknowledge the unique suffering of Moses himself, but couches Moses' misery in the misery of a whole people. Remember, Moses had lost it all. He had been in the privilege of the Pharoah, but after killing a taskmaster for his mistreatment of an Israelite slave, Moses is in the unenviable task of shepherding his Father-in-Law's flock in the wilderness.
On the mountain top, Moses asks, "Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh, and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?" God does not answer, per se. The only assurance God is given is that the Lord would be with him.
Who are you? Who am I? Not important. What is important is that God continues to hear the cries of the oppressed, and the only ones he has to send into the fray is you and me.
And finally, Moses asks how he can establish his credibility among the Isrealites: "You shall say to the Israelites, 'The LORD, the God of your ancestors, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, has sent me to you.' " Not too much to go on. And remember how thin this will wear over the course of the wandering in the desert.
We never really fear our failures. We regret them. Sometimes we resent how they effect our pride. But we really never have to fear them. What we really fear is failing, because we have been brought up in an environment where our worth is measured by our success and not by our perseverance, dedication, determination -- by our sense of mission.
Thousands of athletes go to the Olympics, most aware that there are only a handful of medals. Billions of us profess a faith in Jesus Christ, yet not nearly enough of us proceed in the journey of faith in the assurance that all of us who are ready to lose our lives for his sake will find it.
