Galatians 5:1, 13-25; Luke 9:51-62
I entered a 12-Step program a few years ago, and for the first few months I sort of dipped in my toes. I tried to stop on my terms, but it wasn’t enough. So I asked someone to sponsor me. The first question she asked me was, “How much recovery do you want?” I hadn’t anticipated that. I said what first came to me, what felt true: “I want it all.” So she laid out a plan of what I was to do: not only what not to eat or how much to eat, but also a regimen of phone calls, reading, writing. I was shocked, but I couldn’t say no. I wanted what she had, so I did what she advised.
I was worried that all this reading and writing would interfere with my prayer life. But over time I came to see that God was in this work too, calling me to further growth and healing.
Much later I wondered, what would she have done if I had said I wanted a little recovery? What if I had said, I want to lose weight but don’t bother me with emotional or spiritual growth? What if I had said I would do some things but not others?
I don’t know what she would have said. But I know what the result would have been. I would have missed out. I have peace and serenity because I do all those things she told me to do.
I imagine Jesus asking these people on the road: “How much new life do you want?” I hear him asking me, and you.
I hear Paul asking the Galatians, “How much freedom do you want?” I hear him asking me, and you.
How much do you want?
Do you want to follow Jesus?
Do you want to follow enough to do what he did, walk as he walked, live as he lived, and die as he died?
How much?
Jesus’ responses to these would-be-disciples is very different from what we often find in our churches, and in our other organizations. So often it seems we’re so grateful people show up, we decide to make it easy for them. Rather than say, “This is the way; walk in it,” we are tempted to change course or pave the path to make it more accessible.
We can err in the other direction as well. We can set the course in stone, lay down the rules, and push out those who stray from the path. We can set up committees to write the guidebook, and outline penalties for deviations. This is what the Galatian church is up to. They have been listening to people who tell them that the only way to follow Jesus is to observe the commands of Torah. They are prepared to say to those who disagree, “It’s my way or the highway.”
In both cases, we’re driven by what Paul would call “the flesh.” When Paul writes about the “flesh,” he does not mean the body. The body for Paul is holy and good, part of creation. By “flesh” he means the drives and behaviors that originate in our fearful, self-centered hearts. Today we might call it ego. That part of us is always putting other things in front of God. For some it’s physical pleasure, but more pervasive is the anger, the arrogance, the pride that give rise to divisions. All these are of “the flesh.” Acts of terrorism, political posturing and deliberate obstruction, shunning of those we fear or disagree with; all these are of the flesh.
No rules can eliminate the works of the flesh. No walls, no laws, no codes can fight the flesh, for that lives inside of us like weeds among the wheat. Only the Spirit of Jesus can weed out the works of the flesh.
Following Jesus means putting down my maps and guidebooks, as well as my conditions. It does not mean abandoning guidance, but rather looking for guidance through the Spirit. It means following this one commandment, to love your neighbor as yourself. It means becoming slaves to one another, serving one another.
Our translation tells us to “live by the Spirit,” but the actual word Paul uses is “walk.” He promises that if we walk in the Spirit, we will not fall prey to the flesh. This is not a command; it’s a promise. Paul is inviting us on the road.
But, as Jesus makes clear, this is a costly road. This is not a pleasure cruise: Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem, where he will meet suffering and death. He is not on a triumphal tour of the colonies; he is walking the road of transformation.
Do you want to follow him?
How much do you want it?
It’s important to note that Luke doesn’t tell us what the three individuals decide. We’re left to imagine their dilemma, for it is our dilemma. The details vary, but the choice remains.
Sometimes in the Gospels people want to follow Jesus after they’ve been healed, but he sends them home. Who knows why he chose certain ones to go with him, and others to return and share what had happened to them? And it’s not obvious to me which path is harder. Jesus goes to scary places, but those who follow at least know they’re with him. Those who return home on their own have the hard work of hanging on to the truth they’ve found among people who may not believe it, or welcome it. Over time, the harder road may be the one that leads home after a transforming encounter.
It seems there’s no easy road once we’ve met Jesus. We are no longer ignorant of this possibility, the possibility of new life. We have to decide how to follow. Even the decision to turn away is now a decision we have to live with.
Listening for Jesus’ direction is hard, slow work. Much of the time we aren’t sure whether we’re on the right track. But if we move slowly and listen, we will get signs. We’ll know from the peace that comes, from the joy and the love. We’ll get feedback from others as they notice our growing patience and gentleness. Self-control becomes more regular. At some point, the fruit of the Spirit starts to ripen. We find that wherever Jesus is, is home. Wherever love is, God is.
Walk this way. Follow. God is with you.
