You know, I begin every sermon or homily with that bidding. It’s my paraphrase of a prayer attributed to Phillips Brooks (who was ordained to the priesthood in 1860, the year that Emmanuel Church was founded). He was a bishop of Massachusetts, former rector of the downtown parish that moved during his tenture to Copley Square – what’s the name of it? It’s a prayer that one of my most important preaching mentors always said before he preached and I decided long, long before I was ordained, to adopt it as my own. Sometimes I think that I don’t pray it as much as it prays me. And it’s the “cost what it will” part that rings through our scripture readings today in my ears.

All three of the scripture readings today speak about the costs of seeking after truth – of following great teachers, of listening to prophets, of following and listening for God’s very Self. The cost of discipleship. “Discipleship,” as Walter Brueggemann says, “is no picnic.”

In our Hebrew Bible lesson this morning we have the curious story from 2 Kings about how Elisha got the power and the authority to carry on Elijah’s work after Elijah was gone – after Elijah was “taken up.” Elisha had been travelling with and learning from Elijah for many years. He had burned his farming equipment and slaughtered his oxen, thus destroying his means of income, his livelihood, and he left his home so that he could travel with the prophet Elijah. (Years and a lot of miles have passed in the story since our reading from last week!) When Elijah asks Elisha what he can do before he’s taken away, Elisha asks for a double portion of Elijah’s spirit. Some say that just means that Elisha was asking to be the designated successor to Elijah, the official leader of the prophet guild – like the oldest son in a family, who got a double share of the inheritance when his father died in those days.

But I think that it’s spirit and drive that Elisha wants Elijah to leave behind. A more literal translation of the Hebrew can be “Please give me twice the mouth of your spirit.” Or “Please give me twice the edge of your spirit.”  Elijah’s response is – “ooh that’s a hard thing that you’re asking for.” If it were just a rightful inheritance of twice the wealth, what would be so hard about that? But twice Elijah’s mouth, a double edge – that’s asking for a world of trouble!

In Paul’s letter to the Galatians, he’s writing about the cost of freedom. He’s arguing that the Galatians are free from the burdens of conditions of membership that other Christians are trying to place on them. They are free from behavioral codes that other Christians are asserting.  (The term Christians is anachronistic here because it didn’t really exist until the second century, but the point is that this isn’t a Christian vs. Jew argument – it’s one of a group of Jesus missionaries (that is, Paul) arguing with another group of Jesus missionaries.) Paul is asserting that codes and conditions that the others are trying to impose don’t count. The only thing that counts is faith working, or made effective, through love. Paul is asserting that it’s all for, and only for, loving one another that we have been made free in Christ. Loving one another is the great benefit, and loving one another entails great cost.

And then there’s our reading from Luke. It usually strikes churchy folks as a little harsh. Jesus rebukes his disciples, then in response to three different people who tell Jesus that they want to follow him, he warns that he is homeless – even bed-less, that family obligations must be disregarded, and that even saying farewell to those at home before following Jesus makes one unfit for the realm of God. This is a hard Gospel lesson to say “Praise to you Lord Christ” after. I always think that it’s not a coincidence that lessons like this, get scheduled in the lectionary for the summer when there aren’t many people in church! I also think that folks who talk about Christian family values are clearly disregarding this and all the other anti-family material in the Gospels!

In Luke’s account, Jesus has begun his journey toward Jerusalem where he will be “taken up.” (That’s just what happened to Elijah). He’s looking for some hospitality along the way, and when he encounters hostility instead, his associates enthusiastically offer to annihilate those pesky Samaritans who did not receive him. Now we’re not talking about a lack of hospitality like they didn’t invite him in for tea. The lack of hospitality in biblical times was a matter of life and death, and offering hospitality to travelers was a fundamental obligation. The disciples were right to be incensed. Still, Jesus must have been thinking, “how many times do I have to tell these guys that violence only begets more violence? We don’t command fire to come down from the sky and consume our enemies.” (As another aside, I just have to ask, “Where is the outcry from Biblical literalists about the violence that contemporary Christians do to our enemies when Jesus clearly taught non-violence?”)

It seems that the lack of hospitality and the knee jerk response to retaliate put Jesus in a very bad mood because next, as they were going along the road, someone said to him, “I will follow you wherever you go.” Rather than expressing his gratitude, Jesus’ response was a warning not to be naïve – that he had nowhere to lay his head. Jesus warned that following him would not be at all comfortable or safe.

Another person came along and Jesus said, “Follow me.” The person said, “First let me go and bury my father.” In other words, “I have a family obligation, then I’ll get back to you.” But Jesus said to him, “Let the dead bury their own dead; but as for you, go and proclaim the realm of God.” This is what sounds shocking and downright offensive. Now I don’t want to make excuses for Jesus, (he certainly had reason to be grumpy) but I am persuaded by the opinion in the Greek lexicon that this saying is an idiom, an adage that means, “the matter in question is not the real issue,” or “that is not the point.” (1) Just like we might say to someone, “that’s apples and oranges,” meaning, “you’re talking about two different things.” In our idiomatic conversation, we don’t mean literally that someone is talking about fruit. The lexicon suggests that Jesus is not talking literally about dead people burying other dead people. Jesus is saying, “your family obligations are not the real issue… not what’s keeping you from following me….go and announce the justice and peace of God.”

And a third person said, “I will follow you, Lord; but let me first say farewell to those at my home.” Jesus said to him, “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the realm of God.” This doesn’t sound as offensive as simply impossible. Who among us doesn’t look back from time to time or wouldn’t want to say goodbye to our family before we embark on a journey? But Jesus likens saying goodbye to looking back while operating a plow. A plow in Jesus’ time required constant focused attention. Diverting one’s attention from unruly oxen even for a short while could lead to disaster. The modern day analogy might be the consequences of driving down the highway while looking over one’s shoulder, or fixing one’s eyes on the rear-view mirror.

I think Jesus is saying that following him is not for those who require security, for those who are ambivalent or distracted or faint of heart. Jesus, conscious of the inevitability of suffering, seems to be saying, “careful – I’m wild – not domesticated and my good news is not house-broken.” (2) Perhaps following Jesus is most difficult for those who have a lot to lose. Grant Gallup, an Episcopal priest who worked in Nicaragua said, “The hard fact of the matter is that most of us, most of the time don’t want to follow Jesus, we want Him to follow us. We would like him to be available to us as we go on our self-appointed rounds, to keep us safe, well fed and tucked into warm beds at night, protected on our way, our travel maps and plans in our glove compartments, our credit cards at the ready. We will get our ‘post it’ notes off the refrigerator door and see what it is we will do today, what we will buy, what we will sell, where we will go….Jesus always is trying to catch up with us, for we prefer being the mentor and the guide.” But when Jesus is saying “follow me,” (again in Gallup’s words) he wants a commitment to the good news for the poor. He wants a massive change – a revolution in our lifestyle, a seismic shift in our attention and focus on the future well-being of those who are not faring well at all. (3)

But in case we hear those three accounts of folks who aren’t fit to follow and wonder how we or anyone we know could make the cut, in the very next verse, Luke blithely writes, “After this the Lord appointed seventy others and sent them on ahead of him in pairs to every town and place where he himself intended to go. That makes me think, “So maybe it’s really hard to be fit to follow, but the standards for going out ahead to prepare a place for the Lord are not so high!” Maybe what we are fit for is being the advance team, the warm-up band, the stagehands – the rowdy roadies. Maybe our version of the question, “what would Jesus do,” can be “what would Jesus want?” What would Jesus want for the people that we encounter in all of the places he intends to go? Maybe, in addition to food and clothing and shelter and mercy and love – the basic necessities, maybe it’s the strength, the wisdom and the courage to seek always and everywhere after truth, come when it may and cost what it will.