Ramblings

Silence – 2/19/2012

A few years ago a talk radio station in San Francisco conducted a call in poll. The DJ invited listeners to express their opinion. Thirty-five percent of the respondents said "yes," 33 percent said "no" and 32 percent were "undecided." One listener, aghast at the large numbers of undecided's, protested, "It's this sort of apathy that's ruining America." The only problem with all these responses … was that the radio station had never posed any question. People were calling in with a vote or opinion when no question had been asked; this episode for some is a now famous example of the extent to which our society has moved into the sphere of uncivil discourse.

The world we live in … where it is hard to find any quiet … where it increasingly seems everyone has an opinion or wanting their 15 minutes of YouTube fame. Or perhaps this is just a symptom of larger issue.

For example, in a study of the Lutheran church in the 1990's it concluded that 90% of all Lutherans rarely or never spoke to anybody about their faith. Furthermore, the study found that those who were active, active in that they attended church about three times a month, it was found that only 12% spoke among their family about faith once a week. Does this point to a larger issue? It seems that in one case we may be speaking too much and in another way not enough.

Then there is also the important point that as Christians following Jesus Christ we are not to remain silent before injustice. In the words of Holocaust survivor Elie Wiesel "...to remain silent and indifferent is the greatest sin of all..." Or perhaps we have heard or read of South African Bishop Desmond Tutu or Americans Rev. Martin Luther King Jr's or San Francisco Board of Supervisors Harvey Milk in that those who remain silent side with the oppressors.

So which is it to be ….shouting our lungs out to be one among many in this culture or to remain silent in the face of wrongs for example? Well, there are no easy solutions but perhaps we can find some guidance. Interestingly in our gospel today the disciples may have behaved with surprising wisdom after witnessing the Transfiguration event on the mountaintop.

Jesus appears radiant seen conversing quietly with Moses and Elijah. And out of the presence of God as a cloud we hear the words of God who affirmed that Jesus was God's beloved and for the disciples to listen to him. Our initial opinion is that the three disciples invited out of the twelve not only did not understand what they had seen---they were amazed and awestruck at what they had heard. They were also confused.

But what we may not remember is that this confusion had not begun here on the mountain but had started long before. Consider how disturbing Jesus' first passion prediction must have been to the hearts of his disciples. According to the gospel of Luke, the disciples had just returned from their first missionary excursion flushed with success. Jesus had miraculously fed a crowd of five thousand, and Peter finally had the insight to name Jesus "Messiah." However, instead of praising the disciples, Jesus responds by foretelling the ominous future that awaits him as the Messiah.

Now as found in all the Synoptic gospels --- Matthew, Mark and Luke --- as three of the disciples, Peter, James and John joined Jesus in his mountaintop prayer retreat, they must have been deeply disturbed by Jesus' prediction. Then, suddenly, there are prophets and dazzling lights and descending clouds and a voice too awesome to withstand. The voice declares, "This is my Son," but it also orders the disciples to "Listen to him."

In other words, how can Jesus be the Messiah, the Son of the Divine, at home in conversation with the likes of Moses and Elijah --- and yet be doomed to the suffering and death he has revealed to them? What kind of Savior is this? Confused beyond reckoning, the disciples choose to do what? The disciples chose to say nothing and let the future unfold without their commentary.

What does this lesson teach us? First, this event is an important reminder for all of us that there are some important times when saying nothing is the wisest insight we can offer --- both individually and as the church. Sometimes, the most significant, substantive and spiritual thing we can do is to say …. nothing. What is called the Transfiguration took place during an experience of private meditation and prayer --- not during a public speech or one of Jesus' tutorials to his disciples. Although an amazing event, it was also an intensely personal experience.

For example, nowhere is it written that after we become Christians, we suddenly see all and know all and have an opinion on everything. Or if remaining silent is not possible that I have an answer for everything.

The longer I have been a pastor the more I realize that sometimes we, too, need to stay in place, to meditate, to just sit down and wait, until the word and power from on high arrives. Or until that time comes "I don't know" can be good theology. It is ok to say "I don't know" or "it's a mystery" to the complex issues that we face as Christians.

Perhaps at times we need to remember the words of Matthew 7:6 which cautions, "Do not give what is holy to dogs; and do not throw your pearls before swine, or they will trample them under foot and turn and maul you" which simply means that sometimes a "word fitly spoken" is no "apple of gold" if it is doomed to become applesauce.

Second, the response of the disciples on the Mount of Transfiguration can teach us one more thing when we have to chose between remaining silent or speaking and acting on God's word --- trust in God's faithfulness. God has not left God's people without guidance, without help, without hope ever. From Moses to Elijah to Daniel to Jesus, perhaps to Mark writer of this "good news" (Mark 1:1), and including many more persons of faith, we continually are helped to see the way of God in the world, as well as the promise for God's future for all of us.

Part of that faithfulness includes trusting the glimpse that others have had: all the twelve, for instance, were not part of this experience today at this event on the mountain top and Peter, James, and John did not talk about it until after the resurrection. But the glimpse, even of others, perhaps even later in life, is a gift to all of us from God.

No one really knows all of what happened during the six days Jesus shared with the trio of disciples on the Mount of Transfiguration. Moreover, nobody even knows where the Mount of Transfiguration is. All we really know is that Jesus and his three closest friends climbed a mountain of prayer and entered the presence of God. Something wondrous and miraculous happened to them, something so radiant and mystical that the afterglow never left Peter. Years later, Peter remembered this day, different from all other days, and wrote, still in a kind of holy hush: "We had been eyewitnesses of his majesty." (2 Peter 1:16). God's faithfulness withstood the passage of time.

Finally, both in Acts and at the end of his gospel, Luke records Jesus' command to his disciples to "Stay in [Jerusalem] until you have been clothed with power from on high." Other translations state that the disciples are to stay until they receive "the Word from on high" (Luke 24:49; Acts 1:4). Part of speaking out or remaining silent is discerning when the best moment or time is.

    Today is Transfiguration Sunday --- it is the last Sunday of one Church season before we enter another --- the one that follows --- Lent. One journey has ended and we know a lot from that journey. The miraculous birth of Jesus born in Bethlehem, that he had loving parents, and as an adult at his baptism began a ministry teaching, healing and performing miracles with disciples.

But is that enough? Today is the day when we remember, each year, Jesus being transfigured on a mountaintop --- as I have said before we call this whole season an epiphany that concludes today. An epiphany is a sudden and unexpected manifestation by God.

Are we silent about God when we are to be speaking, trying to hold on to what we think we know about God, sheltered in one season in our relationship with Jesus Christ? Or have we spoken too much interrupting others? Or are we too quick with our answers when perhaps all we need to say is: "I don't know."

Perhaps it would help to ask are we ready to trust in the journey God has before us, to listen to Jesus --- the journey to death on a cross? Are we ready to trust in the journey God before us to speak about Jesus and against injustice --- the journey to death on a cross? Either way, let us grow in wisdom for remember both journeys end in the same place, the love of God on the cross. Amen.

The Race – 2-12-2012

1 Corinthians 9: 24-27

As many of you know, the US presidential primaries are upon us. If we were to have lived in Iowa, New Hampshire, South Carolina, Florida or one of the other states that have held their Republican primaries, we would have been bombarded with a constant barrage of candidate commercials, telling us why a particular candidate is the best thing since sliced salami and his or her opponent is a budding anti-Christ. We would have heard the debates, analyzed the promises, caught the slogans, and watched as candidates tried to one-up each other with memorable sound bites, flag pins, and hundred dollar haircuts.

We would have witnessed the candidates traveling via trains, planes and, increasingly, on customized buses that superficially put them in touch with the common folk they meet on the way from one primary to the next.

We would have seen that it is no wonder that political campaigns are more popularly known as "races." If you don't believe me just consider the language we use to describe the process.

Have you noticed that some of our language comes from horse racing? For example, the media "handicaps" the field and voters "cast" their bets on which candidate will win and provide their particular population and point of view with a "windfall." The most popular candidate is always called the "front runner." A close race, on the other hand, is one where the candidates are "neck and neck," and the election could go "down to the wire" after they "turn the corner" after the last primary or debate.

The language we use is not only from horse racing. For example, at a debate, we might say that the candidates generally "come out swinging," looking to land the "knockout blow" to their opponent. Those who see they are not going to make it tend to "throw in the towel." Through it all, the candidates "keep their eyes on the prize." You get the point.

Still it is possible to run a good race, whether one is running for president or for an even more attainable prize. In today's second lesson, the apostle Paul is using the metaphors of racing and competition when talking about our Christian life. Therefore, since we are hearing so much about races these days, I thought that we could take some time to explore today's metaphor and what they can teach all of us, candidates and commoners alike, some primary lessons about running the race of life with integrity, passion and purpose.

The first lesson we can learn from Paul's use of the metaphor of racing seems obvious … run to win. But for Paul, winning was not about achievement, instead Paul understood the ultimate goal of the race of his life was pleasing God and living in relationship with God. So although already in receipt of the "prize," we see this in verse 27 where Paul gives an account telling his readers that his choices and actions are not geared toward achieving personal pleasure or status, but in pleasing God in such a way that, in the end, Paul would not be disqualified. Winning, in other words, meant achieving the kind of character and conduct that reflected the crucified and resurrected Jesus Christ. Having won that prize, or at least striving to win it, Paul could then win others to Christ through his proclamation of the gospel lived out through his words and deeds.

But as you know the Christian faith based on hope and love is hardly a Roller Derby, meaning that as followers of Jesus Christ we are not giving each other the elbow to win. Rather Paul's point is that there are different prizes that matter more than others. For example, government and elected offices and titles and money are "perishable" prizes, so Paul invites everyone to work at winning the prize that's "imperishable:" a life that reflects the image, character and purposes of God.

The second lesson we can learn from Paul's use of the racing metaphor is the importance of self-control. How do you honor the prize Paul is talking about? Well, it's not really that much different from a competition of any kind. Paul argues that we have to work at it.

To support his view Paul says, that as we know "athletes exercise self-control in all things." Runners and boxers have to train diligently in order to have the ability to reach the finish line.

Self-control involves denying oneself the things, attitudes and indulgences that could potentially keep a person from running all out for the finish. Self-control is essential for Paul. Indeed, Paul in his letter to the Galatians names self control as one of the fruits of the Spirit, or another piece of evidence indicating that we are on the track toward reflecting Christ in our lives.

As we know however, self control in particular is very difficult for what I consider self control may not be the same as your view. Taking up one's cross is different from laying a cross on someone else. Furthermore, Paul's suggestion for self control has been used by Christians in the past and present to support homophobia, racism, sexism and the chasm between the rich and poor. Self control is not someone else's problem. Rather we need to remember that self control for Paul was to align all things toward one aim: the proclamation of the good news of Jesus Christ.

Paul here is not drawing our minds primarily to the lonely and long miles a marathon runner must complete in training. Instead, this message of self control is in the context of a whole letter to the people in Corinth who were struggling with unity. Paul is right because if you think about it self control is not a solitary process. Even the long-distance runner relies on the aid of others to support her efforts; a whole team of people -- from family willing to part with the runner for long hours on a Saturday to medical professionals who help maintain physical health -- support her efforts. In the same way, the Christian life is not led as individuals alone but as individuals bound up in communities of faith brought together by God. In the end, the athlete in Paul's metaphor does not strive for her own sake but for the sake of God's call to God's people.

What that means is that when we practice spiritual disciplines like prayer, reading Scripture, fasting, and daily acts of compassion toward others for example, a community is there to support and prod us as we orient our lives full-time toward serving Christ. Self control in community means that when we are exercising self-control, we will listen more than we speak and view the world through the lens of the gospel rather than the distorted lenses of pundits and talk-show hosts. We will begin to recognize that character counts over just about anything else.

The third lesson we can learn from Paul's use of the metaphor of racing is to live with a purpose. Paul describes it this way in verse 26, "So I do not run aimlessly, nor do I box as though beating the air." Runners have a particular goal in mind and boxers eventually need to make contact with their intended target if they are going to be successful.

For example, Paul refused to allow the criticisms of some people in the Corinthian church to sidetrack him from his purpose of preaching the gospel. He understood his life mission to be bound up in proclaiming the risen Christ and the good news, so much so that he was willing to adapt his approach in any way necessary to reach different groups of people. As football coach Buddy Ryan was fond of saying, "If you listen to the fans, you'll be sitting up there with them."

So instead of pleasing criticism, Paul is more interested in pleasing God, which means that God has gifted and equipped each of us with a particular mission within the Body of Christ for the purpose of transforming the world as agents of God's kingdom. Our first loyalty must always be to God and God's purposes because, as followers of Christ, we recognize that Jesus was laser-focused on that particular purpose.

Jesus received a cross because he didn't please the right people. Paul would be thrown in prison repeatedly and abused in a myriad of other ways. Nothing could dissuade either of them from living out their purpose. May we be able to say the same!

Well, as we know, after all the primaries and commercials and promises, someone will eventually win the race this November. While the candidates are running, I believe we learn a lot from paying attention more too how they run instead of what they are saying. We are not just bystanders we are running the race of life with purpose, self control and to honor in a way that pleases God. That's what makes us all winners indeed for the prize we have all received. Amen

The Magic Mask – 2/5/2012

Sermon based on Mark 1: 29-39

There is an old story called the magic mask. I have never been able to track down exactly where it is from. Nevertheless, it is an interesting story for us today.

The story is about a powerful king who ruled over a great land. This king was wise and brave, respected and feared by all. However, this king was not loved. Over time, this powerful king grew harder and crueler so much so that ugly lines deepened his face and a deep frown permanently furrowed his forehead.

But it so happened that in one of the cities over where this King ruled there lived a beautiful woman whom he had watched for many months as she went about among the people. The king had grown to love her so he decided to go and speak to her of this love. In preparation, he dressed in his finest robes and placed a golden crown on his head, but as he prepared to leave he happened to look into his mirror and was stunned to see that this mirror reflected his cruel, hard face which looked even worse when he tried to smile.

He could never win her love with such a face, and so he called for an artist to make him a mask of thin wax that would make him look kind and loving. The artist agreed to do so on one condition, that the King promise to pray daily to the God of love to change his heart and make him loving toward his subjects. He agreed and so the mask was made. The lovely woman became his partner, and they enjoyed a remarkable period of peace and prosperity. He became a truly loving ruler, and the people were amazed at the change in him.

But as time went on, as gentleness and thoughtfulness entered with love in the life of this king, honesty and goodness was his also, and soon he regretted having deceived his love with the magic mask. At last he could bear it no longer and he summoned the artist. The artist told him that if he removed his mask, he could not make another. The King responded that it was better to show his true face than continue with the deception.

The mask was removed and it was with fear and trembling that the King then went to the mirror. To his delight he did not need the mask any longer because the ugly lines on his face were gone. His changed heart and spirit had changed his face into the image of the mask.

I think that story is a reminder that we all wear masks to hide the ugliness of things that disturb our spirit. It is also a reminder that some of us mask our true selves out of fear or for our own safety. Some of us even mask the deep emotions that run through our lives. Or the mask is there because if we let people close enough to see all that we are all of the time, it would not be a pretty sight, and so we mask ourselves and put on a good front that is pleasant and acceptable. Therefore we trust that only God can see us with our life lines in our soul, heart and face and still love us.

Although many of us as Christians have come to understand and know this fact we may not realize that Jesus himself --- wore a mask. Jesus hid his identity as long as he could, and did so in a very conspicuous manner. The first hint we have of this mask in the Gospel of Mark is the encounter Jesus has with the demonized man in the synagogue immediately before our reading this Sunday. At that event in the synagogue in Capernaum, when the evil spirit in this man cried out at Jesus, "I know who you are-the Holy One of God," Jesus did not say, "Speak up, this is just the kind of publicity I need right now." Instead, Jesus said, "Be quiet!"

Jesus stopped this positive testimony to his identity. Now if this was just an isolated incident we could just ignore it and not try to read too much into it. But this was just the beginning of a pattern Jesus followed. Today Jesus reaffirms his position for in verse 34 we hear: "And Jesus cured many who were sick with various diseases, and cast out many demons; and Jesus would not permit the demons to speak, because they knew him."

Even if two such incidents could be over looked as a possible idiosyncrasy of Mark, Jesus repeats it later in this chapter after Jesus had cured a man of leprosy. It was a marvelous miracle, and one that could bring a lot of publicity. But "Jesus sent him away at once with a strong warning. See that you don't tell this to anyone." (vs. 43-45).

One has to wonder, why did Jesus want to keep his identity a secret so bad that he worked at it overtime? Or in other words, why in the world would the Messiah himself be the primary suppresser of the good news that the Messiah had arrived? Jesus was the answer to millions of prayers, and now that all these prayers were finally answered, Yet, Jesus would not let the people know by taking off His mask and proclaiming, "Look here guys! It is me, the Messiah!"

Rather it was all part of a preconceived plan. The intention of Jesus was that only a few would ever see behind his mask and know without a doubt that he was the Messiah. For example, an event we will remember later this month, we hear how Jesus took three of his disciples up to the Mt. of Transfiguration where they saw Jesus glow with the light of deity, and talk with Moses and Elijah, and hear the voice of God saying, "This is my Son whom I love. Listen to Him."

None but these three had such clear evidence of who Jesus was, but they were not allowed to share this unique experience with anyone. After the event on the mountain we hear Jesus say, "As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus gave them orders not to tell anyone what they had seen until the Son of Man had risen from the dead." Mark 9:9

But the question remain, why did Jesus want to have his mask on? It is only at the end do we find out that the secret of Jesus was to be kept until after his resurrection. That means, that obviously we are dealing with a major strategy in the whole purpose of Christ coming into this world; Keeping his identity a secret is a vital part of the plan of salvation.

It really does make sense when you think about it. If Jesus would have taken off the mask and let the whole world know the truth of who he was, the chain of events of his life would have been totally different. No one would have dreamt of killing the Messiah.

Furthermore, if Jesus had permitted his true identity to be broadcast over the land, Jesus would have been followed with such enthusiasm that there would be no chance of the core of his message ever penetrating the hearts and minds of people. For example, just imagine an episode of a woman running away from those stoning her into the arms of the Messiah on the street. Jesus would never have had the opportunity to invite those with no sin to throw the first stone, nor would a woman, second class citizens ever have been allowed through the lines of security. Nor would Jesus have been invited to the home of despised individuals like Matthew the tax collector. I could just imagine Matthew thinking to himself, "Why invite the Messiah, Jesus would never come."

So Jesus had to do what the Messiah was to do and fulfill the Old Testament prophecies among many things, yet, at the same time keep his true self hidden. What we have here is the mystery of concealed revelation. Jesus was ever revealing that he was the Messiah by doing what only the Messiah could do --- yet ever keeping it a secret that he was the Messiah.

Jesus never took off the mask, and so there was always the mystery in people's minds: "He seems like the Messiah, yet we do not know if He really is. He does not say 'I am the Messiah.' He seems like he might be, yet maybe he isn't." Why such a strange strategy? It was the only way Jesus could have it both ways I believe. He could be the Messiah, and yet be also the suffering servant.

I think that is one of many reasons why the demons and evil in general sought to expose Jesus because in exposing Jesus that would have destroyed the plan of God. And as I shared earlier, Jesus had to wear his mask and keep his identity as Messiah a secret in order to achieve a far greater goal of being the redeemer. Interestingly enough it is only after the cross do we get someone outside of the disciples who got a peak under the mask without Jesus telling the person to be quiet. On the cross as Jesus lay dying a Roman Centurion saw that he really was and said, "Truly this was the Son of God." By then of course it was too late anyway.

So as you can see in this early chapter of Mark we see that important piece that stays throughout the gospel of Mark, Jesus wore a mask, kept his true self hidden and paid the ultimate price to wear his mask.

But where does that leave us? As I said at the beginning, many of us recognize that we wear masks in this highly complex, confusing sometimes violent and difficult world we live in. To help us think what it means for us let me mention another story.

Are any of you familiar with the story of the Lone Ranger? If you remember the Lone Ranger wore a mask, but some of you may not remember was that it was a mask made from the vest of his dead brother. Together with his Native American blood brother Tonto whose own story is intertwined with the story of John Reid, the man behind the mask, they ride together protecting the innocent and helping people in need. Certainly the mask enabled John Reid to keep this identity a secret but that mask was far more important than that. The mask of the Lone Ranger was a symbol that transformed the man to his core and his identity from that of an unknown in the world to a world-famous crusader for justice.

Therefore, I do not think being a Christian necessarily means that we need to take off our masks to each other, nor is being a Christian simply another mask we carry around that we pull out when necessary. Rather, we wear a symbol: a symbol that transforms our identity from that of an individual to a much greater one -- a member of God's family.

Our symbol is not the mask of a dead brother's vest. It is the mark of our resurrected brother's cross. We are not burdened with another mask, but we wear Jesus' love to go forth and love, hope and have faith in the name of Christ. Jesus is our blood brother.

Perhaps this was a goal Jesus had in mind all along, for us to fulfill the ultimate purpose of the mysterious mask of the Savior, because in doing so like the King when it finally comes time for us to be free, when it finally comes time for us to remove our masks, all that will remain will reflect the face of love of Christ. Amen.

The New Apprentice(s) – 1/22/2012

Mark 1: 14-20

Have any of you ever seen the reality TV show The Apprentice. I am not a big fan of reality TV shows and I have to confess I have never managed to watch a whole episode. But my understanding of the show is that, in the original format, a group of contestants came together to compete for the chance to work with the Real Estate magnate, businessman and TV celebrity Donald Trump. Each week the contestants carry out a task and at the end of each episode you hear the words "You're fired" for one of the contestants, until eventually in the last episode there is one person left standing. Is that about right?

Obviously, that process developed for TV is so different than our gospel where we hear that Jesus called his disciples. Today's gospel is similar to last week where rather than starting with a large group, eliminating as Jesus walked along, Jesus invited a few with the words "follow me."

And as I reflected last week at the calling of Nathaniel and Philip, Jesus never said "be like me" rather Jesus said "follow me." But last week's gospel as well as today's leads me to consider if our Christian life as a disciple is different from, or similar to, being an apprentice? And what does it mean to be --- and a use this word very carefully --- what does it mean to be chosen?

Now do not get me wrong, we are disciples and "disciple" itself is in fact simply the Latin word for "learner." And I clearly am hesitant to even suggest we are "chosen" because that seems to suggest others are not.

That being said being a disciple implies that we have embarked on a life-long process of learning from Jesus as Lord and Savior through prayer, through reading the Bible, through being Christ to our neighbors, through meeting together in worship.

Yet, there are those then who then feel that in the course of this process of being a disciple --- chosen if you will --- that their whole Christian life is based on the nagging fear or guilt that they will hear the words "You're fired" from God. So, to make sure they are never fired, they see it as their duty to carry out the tasks they have been given to the best of their ability, so that somehow they might earn God's approval. Furthermore, they expect others to compete as well.

That is not view in today's gospel. In it we see Jesus walking around and for whatever reason chooses to walk by the lake shore where he encounters fishermen. Why the lake shore and not the food market? Why not the feed store? Why men and not women at this point? We can only guess. And to some of the fishermen he says "follow me" and to others, notably Zebedee and the hired men, Jesus --- shockingly --- says nothing or if Jesus did say something to them we have no record.

Furthermore, we have nothing to indicate that Jesus knows more than we the readers about those who follow. We could speculate. Did Jesus watch and notice something about these four before he stepped forward to the shore? Did Jesus have some type of ability to see through a person? Or did Simon, Andrew, James and John have some psychological need for mid-career change? Any of those directions however would be mere speculation.

And then the question why not chose Zebedee and the hired men for example. Why are they "left behind" --- I hate using that term--- why did they remain doing the hard work? I can only just imagine how Zebedee felt to be abandoned by his two sons. And then of course we could fantasize about what that would mean for Zebedee and the hired men. Why can't or didn't they follow? Perhaps we can trust in the fact that although we never hear about them again, it does not mean that they did not follow later. Jesus returns to this area on numerous occasions even establishing his headquarters in nearby Capernaum.

Nonetheless, Zebedee and hired men aside, Jesus chooses not because of anything Simon and Andrew, James and John have done, but quite simply because God places them under his wing because that is exactly the way God chose others. Throughout the Bible we have the names of certain people. That does not mean others are not chosen, it simply means that for whatever reason their story remains.

And why is this so important …it is a reminder that the basis for our relationship with God and with each other is not competitive, nor is it based on pleasing a boss, nor is it because others are better or worse than you and I. Instead, today we hear how Simon, Andrew, James and John followed Jesus. Today it is you and I. Tomorrow it will be someone else. They were not competing nor are we competing with each other because competition produces anxiety and a constant striving to do more --- winners and losers. Rather the Kingdom of God is just the opposite; peace and assurance that, no matter what happens, we belong to God and in a very real sense, like the prodigal son, have come home.

And the words "follow me" are not the end of the story, as we see in today's gospel they are only the beginning. The gospel message does not end with an appeal to trust, but continues with the constant challenge to follow.

In that sense there is a strong similarity between being a disciple and being an apprentice. Because just as an apprentice will devote his or her self to learning and acquiring necessary skills from a master, so a disciple can devote his or her self to learning from Jesus and discovering new things about him or herself and the world. But there are some differences. And point of fact we have a tendency to jumble disciple and apprentice together when the Greek word used as "disciple" can be translated as "apprentice."

Why the distinction? Just consider that at the time of Jesus to be a disciple was generally understand as a process whereby a Jewish religious student would take on a teacher --- rabbi --- to master the content of the written Law of the Old Testament and become familiar with the oral traditions, the stories that helped people understand the law. To be a disciple was to master a set of teachings from a teacher. For example that is why John the Baptist had disciples. There were people looking for teachers.

However, discipleship as Jesus conceived it was not a study but a practice. And Jesus was their master not so much as a teacher of right doctrine, but rather as the master-craftsman whom they were to follow and imitate --- more like an apprentice --- so that the student could become a master craftsman.

Furthermore, as I said, in Jesus' day, it was the followers who chose their master. The students chose their teacher or rabbi to help them learn. But in today's gospel and in other stories of the call of the disciples even though it brings up other issues --- it was Jesus who chose his students. For example, contrast today's gospel with the story in Luke 9 where a nameless man initiates and comes up to Jesus and says: "I will follow wherever you go, just let me bury my father." Jesus however, dissuades the person, telling him in no uncertain terms: "No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God."

To summarize, what we glean from today's gospel is that the call of Jesus to follow him is a broad and deep call to recognize that for whatever reason we have heard something --- which in no shape or form is a competitive race --- us versus them --- but a call to imitate Jesus and share in values, to see the world through the eyes of Jesus Christ. It is a call to follow Jesus as he heals the sick and comforts the broken hearted, to cast out the evil and to speak the truth.

I want to conclude with a parable written by Soren Kierkegaard, a famous Scandinavian author and pastor. Kierkegaard tells a parable about a flock of geese. Each Sunday it seems these geese would gather in the shade of the barn to hear the gander preach of the glorious destiny of geese. The gander would describe the grand purpose for which the geese were created, namely the geese were to fly. Week after week they were enthralled by his messages about soaring above the clouds. Meanwhile, the geese were getting more and more plump until at Christmas time they were butchered, eaten and none of them ever experienced the exhilaration of real flight.

Kierkegaard called this parable "The Domestic Goose." We could spend a great deal of time speculating on being a disciple on what it means to follow and what it means to be an apprentice. And whether or not who is or is not chosen, but I think more importantly we need to fly. Amen.