Christian Education

The Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost
September 9, 2007

Marilu Sherer and Bill Jordan, Christian Education Co-Chairs

Bill: For those who may not know us, we are Marilu Sherer and Bill Jordan, two of the co-directors of Christian Education at St. Mark's. Together, we oversee the Sunday school programs. We work with two other wonderful co-directors, Martha Connor-Donnelly and David Evelyn, who focus on our extensive program of courses for adults. It is a long-running tradition that the co-directors preach the sermon on the first day of Sunday school.

Last year, like previous co-directors, Martha and Dave gave two great sermons built around stories of their profound experiences as students and teachers in our adult education programs. This year, however, we are doing a lot of things differently, including this sermon. We have constructed a "dialogue sermon," in which we take turns offering our thoughts and reflections on the appointed gospel reading.

So, Marilu what was your initial reaction to our Gospel text.

Marilu: Hate your father? Your mother, sister, brother, wife and children? This does not sound like Love Thy Neighbor, Turn the Other Cheek, the Good Samaritan, or Jesus Loves Me. This is so harsh I had to wonder if Jesus said it at all, but Jesus Seminar biblical scholars, among others, believe he did.

So what did he mean?

In the first century the family patriarch had absolute authority over the entire family. The extended family operated as a tribe. Living with the tribe and obeying its rules was a cultural imperative that constituted a form of physical and emotional bondage. Adult children could not make decisions for themselves and consequently had no real life of their own.

So when Jesus said, to be my disciple you must "hate your father" I think he meant, to experience new life you must think for yourself, live your own life, break free of your tribe and your old ways of thinking. Because intense tribal loyalty, on the order of what we see in parts of the Middle East today, will always trump loving "the other." If I do not love "the other" I cannot be truly free.

Bill: To me, Jesus is asking potential followers to behave like adults. This passage from Luke falls in the midst of stories about Jesus' increasing popularity. As his reputation for healing and teaching grows, Jesus is drawing bigger crowds and undoubtedly more people want to get on Jesus bandwagon. Obviously, they knew something about the promises of discipleship, but Jesus was telling them - rather bluntly I would say – that discipleship also has real costs, and that they should consider carefully before investing.

In our adult education courses, teachers try to lead students to look more deeply at hard choices about how to live our daily lives. The teachers help us to recognize when we find ourselves in a pressured situation and to understand that choosing how to act will entail both costs and promises. Our courses rest on the notion that making a faithful choice involves looking honestly at the alternatives and carefully weighing both the costs and promises. Just as Jesus was asking wannabe disciples to do and what I think this Gospel calls us to do.

Marilu: Last year in Julie Gaebe's wonderful class, The Experiential Jesus I learned of the ecstatic passion Jesus felt for God his Father. He was on fire with love for God. And, it was this passion for his personal, inclusive, loving deity that was so tremendously appealing to people beaten down by business as usual -- lives without choice and religion that had become hierarchical, materialistic, formulaic, exclusionary, and cold.

So, I think to be a disciple and to find new life, Jesus meant you must think for yourself, love God passionately and care about people outside your comfort zone.

But, what gets in the way? If I understand it correctly, in order to obtain personal freedom and new life in Jesus I must give up my identity and everything I hold dear. I must give up security if I am to be free. That poses a thorny issue: Because I want to experience the freedom of new life, but I want hang on to the security and comfort of the old.

Bill: With costs that high, there has to be a pretty big promise - something that would make risking those costs worthwhile. The Gospel supplies an answer of sorts: "becoming a disciple of Jesus." In my theology, I would describe the promise as the promise of belonging. It encompasses the promise of being accepted, but it also includes the promise of being able to accept others - any other, all others - because I recognize our fundamental human kinship, I can see the common divine presence in everyone.

Let me illustrate what I am trying to express with a story. Not too long ago, one of my kids hit a very rocky patch at college. The university said: "You can't come back unless you demonstrate you can meet the school's academic standards." Needless to say that hit our family hard. I was very upset; if you know me, you would appreciate how much I value intellectual achievement. I not only worried my kid might be a failure in life, but I also saw this situation as my failure too.

I was embarrassed. I did not want others to know. But, I told a group of good St. Mark's friends what had happened and how I was reacting. They stood alongside me. They shared their stories of similar experiences - both as the parent and as the kid. They offered understanding and comfort for my pain. But just as important, they gave me feedback and advice that challenged me to accept my kid in both failure and success and, dare I say, to have “faith" that the situation would right itself.

In retrospect, through this group, through our sharing of stories, Through their caring, I felt a deep and enduring sense of belonging. That kind of belonging, I think, is available for those who want to follow Jesus' teachings - for those who want to do more than simply learn the intellectual precepts of Christianity, but who are willing to try to live them. That is what we aspire to do here at St. Mark's, especially in the Christian Education program.

Marilu do you have a story?

Marilu: This issue of yearning for new life yet wanting the security of the old is a big one for me because I am a serious security junkie. I don't gamble because I am risk averse and I am not now nor have I ever been a daredevil.

Two years ago, Peter and I together took a leap of faith into a new life when we left the land of steady paychecks, health benefits, and paid sick leave to set out to the land of entrepreneurship, both at the same time. If not for the sheer exhilaration of it all, we would be paralyzed with anxiety. There are certainly times when we feel the promise of new life -- gloriously following our bliss. But other times, many times, it feels like we are taking a free fall from a 30-story building.

Our existence is grounded in the faith of our vision but permeated with the mess and the mystery of living on the edge. Money is a big concern, and in the past two years we have had a series of unexpected sometimes unwelcome expenses: our AC unit died, but not before flooding the basement which is our only storage area, several dental crowns have had to be replaced, routine health maintenance has been achieved beautifully with a hefty deductible on our costly individual health policy, two sets of beloved friends married expensively at opposite ends of the country, and rodents found their way into our kitchen.

On the other side of the issue, our work is deeply satisfying and uses all of our skills and interests, for the first time in our lives, our time is entirely our own, we don't have to put up with dysfunctional offices, and we are free to visit Peter's elderly mother in Connecticut at the drop of a hat. But most of all we have a powerful sense of personal freedom for the first time in our adult lives.

Over my 20 plus years at St. Mark's, my spiritual journey has been forged by wrestling with issues like my longing for new life and my love of security.

Tearing myself away from my comfort zone again and again I have chosen new life, as the Deuteronomist advised. In doing so, have come to accept ambiguity as part of the cost of that choice. I know that my increasing willingness to choose new life is based both on the grounding I have found in functional education and the love I experience in this community. The enthusiasm I bring to my leadership positions here has been directly proportional to the gratitude I feel to you for your continued support.

Amen