The Fourteenth Sunday After Pentecost

September 9, 2007

Proper 18 C

The Rev'd Lloyd Prator

New York City

The last time I went back to the town of Antioch, California, the San Francisco suburb where I was raised, I was struck by the degree to which this little string of towns out east of the City hand all grown together into some kind of suburban sprawl. What had been distinct communities, each with its own main street, its own industrial area, its own nice residential area, and its own little cemetery had grown together in a pastiche of tract housing connected with shopping malls. Ironically, the only open space is in the old downtown main street areas of these little towns, where buildings have burned, been torn down, or simply fallen down, leaving spaces where no one would have imagined fields and grasses, but there they are, where here used to be stores and businesses and theatres, and hotels.

When I was younger, there was a lot of open space between each of the towns, and every now and again, someone would venture out into what seemed the countryside and build something. The Chevrolet dealer was out of town on the what we called, the highway to Pittsburgh, and so was Hazel’s drive in where the youngsters of Antioch drove their first cars and packed their first cholesterol into their arteries, courtesy of Hazel’s cheeseburgers and fries. Everytime someone went out and built something in these open spaces, the old timers in the community would look askance, perhaps they knew that this would one day change the character of that part of the bay area, or perhaps they just didn’t like things that were new and innovative. But they talked about the people who went out there and built things the way that Hazel and the Chevrolet dealer did. These were the risk takers of that day, and they were looked upon with distrust.

And sometimes, their risks didn’t turn out so well. Next to Hazel’s Drive In, a man known slightly to my father, began to build a motel. You know the type, a row of cinderblock rooms, a little garage between each one, and a detached office on one side. This was before the days of Holiday Inns, Swimming Pools, and Motel Coffee Shops. It was going to be a decidedly down-market item. Now, this was a man who had not taken into account the requirements of the building code. This hapless gentleman had begun to build his little motel with doors that were about eight inches narrower than the code required. When his builder told him that the design would never pass muster with the inspectors, he said with confidence that he could finesse those regulations, and just go ahead and build the little motel. You can imagine what happened. After the first wing was erected the inspectors came out, measured those little doors – too little, as it turned out – and told him he had two choices. Tear the thing down and rebuild with wider doors, or stop the project right now.

So, he stopped the project. And the years passed. The cinderblocks stood there like some 1950s version of an ruined English abbey, roofless, its metal casement windows rusting and sending smears of red stain down the cinderblocks. Weeds grew in the bedrooms and the parking spaces cracked ans separated. A testimony to someone who did not count the cost before he began to build. He must have been a latter day descendant of the guy in the gospel who started out on that tower project.

Years later, I went by the building and found that some enterprising soul had bought the ruin and turned it into a little self-storage unit, sealing up the old windows, and renting out the would-be rooms for people who needed a place to store their lawn furniture and their barbecues during the winter months.

Well, the gospel and the story about the guy who built the doomed motel are both about the point of counting the cost before you begin something. Good, common sense advice about nearly everything, I think, but perhaps helpful to us here in this church this morning as we think about what Jesus was saying and to whom he was saying it.

Jesus had enjoyed some popularity. After all, he had healed a few people, he had fed a few hungry folks, he had performed a few impressive miracles. And, as the gospel today begins, he as accompanied by great multitudes. People were nibbling at the edge of the particularly rich meal which Jesus was offering. They were interested.

And, this may apply to some among us today. Maybe you are nibbling at the edge of Christianity. Maybe you are thinking about religion again after years of being away from it. Maybe you are making your first adult inquiry into mature adult Christianity. At one time or another, we have all found ourselves “in the multitudes” that followed Jesus.

And, if you are thinking about Christianity, you may be put off by this series of sayings which Jesus makes in today’s gospel. Hating one’s family? Bearing a cross? Building a tower? Setting out to make war? A lot of hard sayings. And Jesus meant every one of them, because there are many Christians who are called upon to separate from their families. There are many Christians, notably in Africa today, who are again being crucified, following Jesus even to the kind of death he died. There are things which may happen if you are serious about Christianity.

But Jesus is, I think, saying something else. Something deeper, something even more universally applicable. Notice the areas where he says you are called upon to make a sacrifice: The family — the realm of father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters. And, the job — building the tower, making economic decisions and planning. And, the realm of politics –- making war, settling disputes, making peace.

Interesting sweep of human activity: The personal, the family, the economic, the political. My guess would be that if Jesus were speaking to us today, he would remind us that to follow him means to let being a Christian cast its shadow over all of these aspects of your life. The personal, the family, the economic and the political. This means, for example, that your family life must be based upon the mutual respect due one another because Jesus himself lived in a family and dignified that way of living. This means that in making your economic decisions, you are called upon to consider the way that using your economic power can further the reign of Christ. This means that in the realm of politics and social convictions, your political activity should be governed by what will extend the reign of Christ and promote the values and the priorities consistent with Christianity.

So, to those of you who are thinking about Christianity, consider the cost. If you decide to stop nibbling around the edge and take on the whole package, beware. Christianity can take over your whole life, change it all, and return it to you in a radically changed and renewed form. And, maybe you aren’t ready for that decision. Maybe you are. I don’t know. Only you know. But, even if you decide it is not for you, don’t go away, at whatever level of commitment you want to take on, you can have a place here. The church is a diverse body of people at various stages in the process of commitment and development of faith.

But, remember what Jesus said. If you come in without counting the cost, beware. This faith can take over your whole life.

So, to the giver of life, to the redeemer of our lives, and to the spirit who fills our lives, to that Triune God be glory and honor now and forever.