This sermon was preached at St. Paul's in Visalia, CA on Sunday, June 22nd, 2014.
Commander Chris Hadfield
is best known as the astronaut who sang David Bowie's Space Oddity
from aboard the International Space Station. A video of this
performance went viral on the internet and he became an instant
celebrity. This past May, Commander Hadfield went on NPR during their
TED Radio Hour, which is an information program spawned from the TED
Talks series, an educational program covering a wide range of topics.
This particular show was titled “What We Fear” and the host of
the show asked Hadfield about his experiences going to the space
station and what fears accompanied those voyages. He recounts one of
his most vivid memories. He was watching a meteor burn in the earth's
atmosphere from the space station window. “Immediately after
admiring the beauty of it,” Hadfield says, he then recognized that
it was just a “dumb rock from the universe” that came flashing
between himself and the earth. He says that this dumb rock could just
as easily have been 100 miles higher and obliterated himself and the
rest of the crew on the space station—and there's nothing he could
have done to prevent this completely random event from occurring.
This randomness is what “sent a shiver [of fear] up [his] back.”
After
hearing this story, the host of the show asked Hadfield why he would
put himself in that kind of danger, “Why take the risk?” He asks.
Hadfield responded: “I think if you're going to take any risk in
life, if you're going to expose yourself to any danger, it's worth
asking why. For me, if I'm going to take a risk, I want it to be for
a purpose, I want it to have a reason and also something that I have
some control over so that I can help to be master of my own destiny
and fate at least to some degree.”
In
the reading today from the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus warns his
disciples of the danger involved in following him. “Behold,” he
says, “I am sending you out as sheep in the midst of wolves, so be
wise as serpents and innocent as doves.” He reminds his disciples
that “if they have called the master of the house Beelzebul, how
much more will they malign those of his household.”
Jesus
gives a similar teaching in the Gospel of Luke, where he says
“whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me cannot be my
disciple.” The life Jesus calls us to lead is one of humility and
self-sacrifice. Following Jesus means blessing those who curse you,
turning the other cheek to those who would strike you, and giving
your coat to the one who takes your shirt. Following Jesus means
standing up for truth, the truth of the Gospel, even when others
might revile you for doing so. Following Jesus means declaring the
one way to God and humanities utter incompetence in gaining salvation
by good deeds or personal righteousness. Following Jesus means
pointing out the sin of the world and recognizing the sin within
ourselves. And doing so means holding your reward in heaven in higher
regard than anything the world can offer. It inevitably means
offending those who deny the truth and receiving backlash for the
name we carry with us. Because the name of Jesus signals death to
those who are dying.
Talking
about Jesus with those around us could break apart close friendships
and cause a rift among family members. Saying there is one way to God
means you are intolerant or narrow minded. Sharing the Good News of
Jesus with others is forcing your beliefs onto them. In other parts
of the world, people are literally giving up their lives for the sake
of Jesus. People are being tortured and their homes burned to the
ground because they worship the God revealed to us in Holy Scripture.
There are young men and women being disowned by their parents and
kicked out of their homes because they profess faith in Jesus Christ.
And churches are risking imprisonment and death by meeting in secret
for the chance to worship the Lord together.
Following
Jesus is a risk. But it is a risk that we as Christians are all
called to take. The question we have to ask ourselves is the same
question that Commander Hadfield poses about his journey into space.
Why should we bother to take such a risk? Is the danger—or even
just the inconvenience—of the Christian life worth following Jesus?
I think that the first thing we need to ask ourselves, is whether we
have in Jesus a foundation strong enough for us to build our lives
upon. What is the promise of Jesus? Is it something worth giving up
everything we have to obtain?
After
reading these teachings of Jesus, we see that following him is not
about escaping suffering. The Good News of Jesus Christ is not that
we can live comfortable lives and avoid the troubles of this world.
The Good News of Jesus Christ is that he has come into the world to
take on our suffering. He has come to join with us in our pain. He
lived a fully human life so that we can take on a fully godly life.
Jesus did not come so
that we can escape the troubles of this world. He came to take part
in our troubles.
The
life Jesus chose to live brought him to the cross. On that cross, he
died for the sin of the world. If we are called to be imitators of
the life of Christ, do not forget that his life led him to the cross.
The danger of following Jesus is that he himself was put to death.
But, we also know that his death was not in vain. On the third day he
rose again by the power of God the Father. His resurrection is the
assurance of our hope. We will also be raised up on the last day. And
our faith rests on that hope.
We
don't only rely on faith and hope to conquer our fears. We have the
promise of God. Jesus said that when he returned to the Father, he
would ask and the Father will send the Holy Spirit to mark us as his
own. This is the Spirit by whom “what you are to say will be given
to you.” Jesus says that this is “the Spirit of your Father
speaking through you.” This same Spirit the Apostle Paul later
calls “the Spirit of adoption … by whom we cry, 'Abba! Father!'”
The Good News of Jesus Christ is not to avoid the troubles of this
world. The Good News of Jesus Christ is that he has overcome the
world, and “the gates of hell shall not prevail against [his
church].”
After
his Sermon on the Mount, Jesus says to the crowds, “everyone who
hears these words of mine will be like a wise man who built his house
on the rock. And the rain fell and the floods came, and the winds
blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been
founded on the rock.”
The
promise of Jesus is not that troubles will end once you begin to
follow him. The storm comes on both the righteous and the
unrighteous. But Jesus promises that he will be “with you always,
to the end of the age.” The incarnation of Jesus, his coming in the
flesh to dwell among us, is the sign of his promise to us. He lowered
himself from his throne in the courts of heaven and lived a life
where he had no place to rest his head. The Word of God through whom
all things were created stood outside the tomb of his friend Lazarus
and wept. The Author of life who is above death, submitted himself to
death's power and laid in a tomb for three days.
By
incarnation, he has revealed himself to us. Because we are unable to
understand the heavenly things, he came down and revealed himself as
an earthly thing. “No one has ever seen God,” the Apostle John
writes, but “the only God, who is at the Father's side, has made
him known.” This is the one we are following. Jesus is not just a
great man with great ideas. We follow very God of very God, who
reveals the truth in all of its fullness and invites us to share in
his glory.
Let's
ask ourselves: Is it worth the risk to give up everything we have for
the sake of Jesus? Is the cost of following Jesus worth the gain of
salvation in him? Commander Hadfield said that if he is to risk his
life, then what he does needs to have a purpose. Everything we can do
in this life has only a temporary effect. But in Jesus, everything we
do has eternal implications. We can have an impact on the eternity of
not only ourselves, but those around us.
Commander
Hadfield also says that if he is to take such a risk, he wants to
“have some control over [it to] … be master of [his] own destiny
and fate.” The problem is, just like with the meteor hurling
through the vacuum of space at a random trajectory, we can't be in
control of everything. But, we know the one who can. We know that we
can put our lives into our Heavenly Father's hands, and as Jesus
teaches, “not one of [the sparrows] will fall to the ground apart
from your Father. But even the hairs on your head are numbered. Fear
not, therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows.” Jesus is
calling us to himself and assuring us of his love for each and every
one. Please hear his words of comfort: “I am the resurrection and
the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live,
and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die.”
We
can calm the fears of this life in the assurance of faith. But
following Jesus is still a call to radical self-surrender. Even with
the assurance of salvation, how can we face the wolves when we are
thrown in the midst them? How can we be sure that we won't freeze up
when the time comes for us to put our livelihood on the line for the
sake of Jesus—when the time comes to take up our cross and follow
him?
The
last time Commander Hadfield returned to earth, he did so aboard a
Russian capsule moving at about 755 feet per second. He says, “in
essence, you are riding a meteorite home, and riding meteorites is
scary.” But Hadfield points out that twenty years before they ever
got on this capsule, they learned everything they needed to know
about it. They learned orbital mechanics, they learned vehicle
control theory, and they went in a simulator until they could steer
and land the capsule within a fifteen kilometer circle anywhere on
earth. “So, in fact,” he says, “when our crew was coming back
into the atmosphere … we weren't screaming. We were laughing.”
What in any other circumstance would be a terrifying experience was
fun because the astronauts had been trained over the last twenty
years to operate the capsule to precision.
In
the same way, if you throw a sheep among wolves, they would rightly
be terrified. But if that sheep also happened to be equipped with the
armor of God—of truth, righteousness, and faith—and also happened
to be trained in wisdom and innocence, and also happened to have the
Shepherd standing by its side with his rod and staff, all of a sudden
those wolves don't seem so terrifying. The way to overcome fearful
situations is to be prepared for when they come. “Train yourself
for godliness,” Paul writes, “for while bodily training is of
some value, godliness is of value in every way, as it holds promise
for the present life and also for the life to come.”
Jesus
became incarnate to the whole world. We are incarnations of Christ to
those around us. By equipping ourselves with the Word of God and
being filled with his Spirit, we helpless sheep can face the most
daunting challenges we come across in the valley of the shadow of
death. Death poses no threat to those who are in Christ.
As we
go forth into the world, let us all ask this question for ourselves:
Is following Jesus worth the risk? Is his calling on my life worth
the danger that it will bring to my well-being?
Jesus
loves you. And he doesn't promise a comfortable life, but he does
promise a life of joy and a life with him even in your deepest
distress. He has shown his willingness to come and be with us in his
incarnation. He has shown the fullness of his love for us in his
death for our sins. He has shown faithfulness to his promises in his
resurrection from the grave.
Do not be afraid. Jesus has overcome the world and he cares for you.
You are precious in his sight, and as no sparrow falls to the ground
apart from the Father, you also who have faith can never be torn from
his grasp.
