“FAMILY POLITICS”

Scripture Lesson:  Matthew 10: 34-39

Dr. Matthew Brown

June 19, 2005

 

It was one of those impulse purchases that quickly lead to buyer’s remorse.  I should have known.  I had certainly been down this road before.  There was the hiking boot incident that one harsh winter when I could not keep my feet warm and dry.  In desperation one day I rushed to the wilderness outfitter store and quickly purchased a pair of $200 vibram soled, gortex lined, leather boots with the fancy little Vasque label on the side only to discover them to be the most uncomfortable shoes I had ever worn.  And I’d rather not talk about the tassled loafer incident or the Allen Edmonds loafer incident, which incidently, is why you will seldom see me in loafers anymore.  They looked so good.  They cost so much.  They felt so bad. 

 

Let’s just say that if Donna ever makes a questionable purchase, which is unlikely since I remain the one foolish purchase she has ever made, but if she did, and if I get a little uppity about it, all she has to do to reduce me to the size of... well, me, is to refer to me as:  “Hey you, loafer boy.”

 

I should have known.  I had been down this road before.  But I was going to Disney World where there would be a lot of walking in hot weather and where  a number of rides would involve water.  In fact, on some days, we would be going from a water park to the Magic Kingdom to Epcot, so how would my feet stay comfortable through the zippity-do-dah day?

 

Well, I was driving by this wilderness outfitter store,  (I really need to stay away from those places.) and I remembered how Donna raved about her Tevas, the popular sandals that came out about twelve or thirteen years ago.

 

Well, the salesman, hereafter referred to as the Devil, said, “We don’t carry Tevas.  We’ve shifted to something better, yes, definitely a step up from Teva.  Notice the vibram sole (What’s the deal with the vibram sole anyway?)  See how the straps are thicker and sturdier, and most importantly, notice the strap for your big toe.  That will give you a more natural and thus more comfortable walking motion.”  Don’t want to go flippin’ and floppin’ in the house of the Mouse.  Welcome to Chaco.  Even the name sounded cool.

 

Of course, at that point, I’m like a drug addict who’s been appointed Ambassador to Afghanistan.  “Yeah! Yeah!  Tell me more!” 

 

Eighty dollars later I’m walking out of the wilderness store so proud of my Chaco’s and I’m thinking how that ingenious toe strap will transform my entire experience of Walt’s Wonderful world of Disney.  Except, before I even crossed the Georgia line into Florida, I learned something very significant.  I don’t like that strap between my toes.  In fact, I don’t like anything between my toes.  It’s really uncomfortable.  It’s irritating. 

 

What’s the must have sandal today?  Rainbow?  Don’t want ‘em.  Not with that blasted strap between the toes. When you get right down to it, I don’t really like wearing sandals anyway; all that dirt and nastiness finding a home amidst your little piggies. 

 

But Summer has arrived, a trip to the shore is coming soon, and lest I begin to resemble “Mr. Black Socks on the beach”... my tender toes will just have to suffer.

 

Summer is here and the beach is beckoning.  Lemmings to the sea and all that!  Some of you have just returned and others of you are gearing up to go.  Many of you are excited, but some of you are anxious.  The source of the anxiety is not the sharks, not the traffic snarls around Darlington, not even the thought of the Weather Channel’s hurricane team showing up.  (It’s never a good sign when Jim Cantore shows up on your beach.)  But it’s not the weather patterns off the West coast of Africa that has you spooked.  No, it’s the family. 

 

You cover your anxiety well, but it is still palpable as you tell me about all the people who will be gathering for your beach trip.  Mom, Dad, three kids, two sets of grandparents, two sisters, one brother, three uncles, five aunts, sixteen cousins, three beagles, two cats, and a parakeet.  When you say your family is going to the beach, for some of you, that means all of them.  It is a great idea.  A grand opportunity.  A glorious photo op.  A wonderful tradition to pass on from generation to generation.  But you’re a little anxious, because past experience tells you that by midweek, you may not have the heart to sing Blessed be the Tie that binds.

 

Aunt Lil is in tears because Uncle Joe called her a hypochondriac.  You’re upset because this is the third night in a row that you got stuck washing dishes while your goo-goo-eyed sister and her ever-groping spouse have gone walking on the beach.  Your cousin Bob insists on choosing that same greasy fish camp for the annual family seafood feast.  Your nephew broke your new kite.  Your cousin dropped a peanut butter jar on Grandma’s pinkie toe.  “She shouldn’t have been wearin’ sandals,” you think to yourself.  Your daughter is whining about her sunburn and spending far too much time on the phone with her boyfriend back in Charlotte.  It has come out that your brother has lost yet another job.  You couldn’t go to sleep last night because your aunt and uncle were cursing one another in the next room.  And if your father utters the phrase, “In my day...” one more time, you may commit a capital crime.  “We are family...”

“Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth,” Jesus said, “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 foes will be members of one’s own household.”

 

I can’t help but wonder if Jesus had just returned from the annual family beach trip to the shore of Galilee.  Sometimes those close family encounters expose the thin line between love and hate.  And so it is that the ones we love the most are often the very ones we hurt or are hurt by the most.

 

Today’s scripture lesson is a challenging and difficult text, made even more clear to me by the way some of my favorite Bible commentarys sort of slide by the passage, focusing more on literary characteristics than on the vexing questions it raises.  A first read of the text almost makes Jesus sound like a little boy setting up toy soldiers for a mock battle, like Jesus is indulging God’s hunger for human conflict.  But I don’t think that is what is happening here.

 

Could it be that Jesus is not here stating God’s intention and will but is rather observing the reality of human brokenness, particularly in those places where God is not the driving force in the relationship.

 

Let’s put it simply.  If my relationship with someone is not being driven by the grace of God, it is being driven by my wants and my expectations or theirs.  The question, “What do I want for this relationship?”  will take precedence over the question, “What does God want for our relationship?”  And if, perchance, you are listening for the guidance of God, I might be frustrated because God’s desire for you and your relationships may well be different than my desire for you and your relationships.  I, therefore, might not be so supportive of where the grace of God will take you.  How dare Jesus get in the way of my manipulation of the people in my life!

“Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth;  I have not come to bring peace but a sword.”

 

“And one’s foes will be members of one’s own household.”

 

Jesus is the prince of peace.  Jesus is the source of the peace which passes all understanding.  Jesus is our peace, the one who can break down the dividing wall of hostility.  But that wall of hostility is so strong because its bricks are mortared with my selfish wants and desires. 

Mother, daughter, son, father, cousin, Grandpa, brothers and sisters in faith, friends, aquaintances, enemies.

 

We persist in seeing them with our limited eyes and refuse to see them as God sees them, and so the conflicts continue.  And truth be told, we don’t want to see them as God sees them because that would mean giving up a little control, a bit of dominion.

 

And thus, we approach that great paradox of the Gospel.  Those who find their life will lose it and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.

 

June is the month of weddings and when I’m talking with young couples before their wedding, occasionally by the grace of God, we’ll get beyond Martha Stewart’s vision of their nuptuals, and start thinking about life together.  At that point I break it to them that they are preparing to stand before God and family and make a bunch of promises that they are not equipped to keep.  Love, honor, cherish, commit, covenant, sickness and health, plenty and want, as long as we both shall live.  They’re not equipped for that and neither are we.

 

So how do we get there?  How do we get there?  Giving up our vision, our plans, our scheming, our lives, that we may take on the lives God has in store for us and begin to see one another, not as we have always seen them, but as God sees them.  “Those who find their life will lose it and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.”

 

This is a tough passage, because it means you’ve got to give up dominion over your spouse, over your children, over your church family, over your friendships, over your neighbor, over your enemy so that you may see them, approach them, love them as God does.  So that you may want for them what God wants for them, not what you expect from them.

 

This changes the dynamics of family relationships, all types of family relationships, from the beach to the boardroom, from the sanctuary to the senate chamber, from the White House to the U.N..  And families are resistant to change.

 

So that you may see them and want for them what God sees in them and wants for them.

That is the path of discipleship, and Jesus is honest when he says it is not an easy path.

Discipleship will cost you your life.  Discipleship will give you your life.  Both statements are true.  And thanks be to God for it. 

 

Amen.

  

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