But First, Allow Me This . .

But First, Allow Me This . . .

Luke 9:51-62

When I was about 20 years old, I went to a young singles retreat that was sponsored by the United Methodist Church. One of the group building exercises we did was to decide what we wanted on our tombstone, and then share that with the rest of the group. It is a good exercise because most 20-somethings haven’t spent a lot of time thinking about the end of their life. They tend, rightfully so, to think about who they may become, who they will love, who will love them, and what they hope to accomplish. Thinking about the end can help us focus on the process of how we get there.

But I wasn’t most 20-somethings. Oh, I had a plan for my life – a plan that I had made apart from God, but that is another story for another time. It’s just that this plan had a shorter timeline than the others in this group. I had looked at my ancestors and had come to the conclusion that the odds were against me having a long life. Both of my grandfathers, whom I knew as a boy, passed away at the age of 56, after multiple heart attacks. My father was not yet 40 years old then, and he had already had two heart attacks. He died at age 54 after bypass surgery and then his eighth heart attack – but, of course, I didn’t know that when I was at the retreat.

When it came time to share what we wanted on our tombstone, there were a lot of clichés about enthusiastic and adventurous living that you would expect from people who think they are never going to die. I don’t remember what I wanted for mine, except that I was the only one to have a date for his death. It read, “1956 – 2012.” Born in ’56, die at 56 – it had a nice symmetry to it, as well as what seemed like realistic parameters. Putting an end date seemed to freak out many of those present, as they seemed to think that this meant that I wanted to die.

Knowing you are going to die and wanting to die are two very different things. Over the years, I have swallowed copious volumes of fiber and niacin and baby aspirin and fish oil, and have tried every kind and size of statin that can be prescribed so that I could go on living. For years, I have spent at least 30 minutes a day on a treadmill or walking outdoors, and I have paid attention to how my body felt. I knew, better than most, that chest pain could have serious consequences. I knew that the right thing to do when I would one day inevitably experience that pain was to go to the doctor and get stents or surgery so that I could continue to live.

Four and half years ago, when I was 52, I took my first airplane ride. Pam and I, along with our daughter Susan and our future daughter-in-law Pamela, flew out to Albuquerque to attend Wesley’s recital for his master’s in trumpet performance. As many of you know, Albuquerque is a “mile high” city, and the hotel we stayed at was on top a good size hill. While I did pretty well walking in Missouri, I was a little worried about doing it at altitude.

The morning of the recital I wanted a newspaper to read while waiting. But they didn’t have a paper at the front desk, or across the street at the restaurant. So I went for a walk down the hill looking for a paper.

About a mile down the hill, I found my paper – but now I had to walk back up the hill. I got about a block, and my chest started to hurt. I found a bench, sat down, and it quickly went away. I walked about another block, the pain came back, and I sat on the curb. I walked another block, the pain came back, I found another bench. And it went like that all the way up the hill.

The afternoon wasn’t much better. Wes showed us around the campus, and the faster we walked, the more my chest hurt. I kept trying to slow them down because this day was going to be about Wesley and not about me. I thought as long as the pain went away quickly each time we stopped that I could wait until I got home to get it checked out.

Back home, I found that I could still easily do 30 minutes on the treadmill, so I blamed the pain on being at altitude. But I still called my doctor, who then referred me to a cardiologist. I told him that I had been paying attention all these years because of my family history, and I was just now starting to have pains, but that the pain always went away quickly. I suggested that I probably needed a stent or two, and he thought that was likely. He then asked the question which leads to why I am telling this story.

He asked me how soon I wanted to schedule my visit to the cath lab. Most people who have had chest pains and a family history like mine would want to do that as soon as possible. I think he was expecting me to say that I wanted it done that day or the next. But instead, I said, “Well, first I have to do my son’s wedding. And then I have to go to Annual Conference. But any time after that would be fine.”

My son’s wedding was important to me. Attending Annual Conference was important to me. We understand that there are important things that we think we have to do. And because doctors still need our consent before they can do a procedure, he agreed to let me put it off for about a month.

In our reading, Jesus is making his way to Jerusalem, declaring that the kingdom of God has come near to the people. Before they get to a Samaritan village, Jesus sends James and John ahead to make arrangements for food and the night. But instead of a warm welcome, they are turned aside.

James and John know what it means to follow Jesus. They have seen his generosity, his gentleness, his forgiveness, his acceptance. They know as disciples that they are to do what Jesus does. They know the signs they are to look for, and how they are to interpret those signs, so that they can respond in the way of Jesus.

Yet, when they experience a little pain by the snub of this Samaritan village, their first thoughts are not about overcoming evil with good. They are not moved to offer forgiveness and gentleness. They want the kingdom of God to come on earth as it is in heaven – but first, this village and its ungrateful people have to be destroyed. But any time after that, it will be fine if the kingdom of God comes.

In the next few verses, Luke gives us the summary of some conversations that are pretty easy to flesh out. Someone says to Jesus, “I will follow you wherever you go. But first, it is important that I know about your hotel arrangements on the road. I have a bad back and I need a quality mattress each night if I am to be good for anything. Any time after you take care of my needs will be fine for me to follow.”

Another person accepted Jesus invitation to follow him, and said, “But first, my father is getting on in years and it is important that I take care of him. He might die today or tomorrow, I just don’t know. As long as he is living, I must honor my father. But any time after I have buried my father and I am released from this commitment, I will be glad to follow you.”

Another person agreed to follow Jesus, and said, “But first, I need to go home because it is important that I bring closure to my household. It may be that they still need me, in which case following you will have to wait. But any time after that, it will be fine for me to follow you.”

There are lots of important reasons we give Jesus for not following him. Family is important. Basic needs are important. Relationships are important. Education is important. Freedom is important. Country is important. Work is important. Honor is important. But as important as all those things are, they are not vital. Apart from the vital, the important can have bad consequences.

That is what the Apostle Paul was trying to explain to the church at Corinth. Being able to speak fluently and movingly is important. Being prophetic is important. Being informed about how things work is important. Being faithful is important. Being generous is important. But these things mean nothing if they are separated from the one thing that is vital – loving God and loving our neighbor.

Sometimes, we put vital things off because we don’t believe that there will be a negative consequence for doing so. After I did my son’s wedding, and after I attended Annual Conference, I had my appointment in the cath lab. Before I got off the table, the cardiologist said he wanted to show me something. He showed me that I had 4 blockages rated between 90 and 100 percent, including one known as “the widow-maker.” He said that if he had known that at our previous appointment, he would not have let me leave his office. I could have experienced sudden death at any time during that month.

There was no more time for “but first, allow me this.” The time had come for making a commitment that would change my life. So I had surgery the next morning, before I ever had a heart attack. And now my heart is stronger, and the date on that long ago tombstone is nothing more than part of a story I tell, instead of a prophecy that was fulfilled.

Many of us like to think that we have time to make a commitment to follow Jesus. We tell ourselves that we can do it after we graduate from college. We can do it after we get married. We can do it after our children are raised. We can do it after we retire. But it seems that there is always something important that comes along, and we put off doing the only thing that is vital. We put off depending on God. We put off conforming our lives to Christ. We put off having confidence in the Holy Spirit.

Or, to say it another way, we put off loving God. Oh, we may be willing to honor God, and to praise God, and to do the best we can for God – but unless we love God, all that we are doing is on our terms and on our timeline when we can fit it in. And that is where we make our mistake that can cost our dearly.

God is not something we “fit in” to our lives – God is the source of our life. Discipleship is not something we do after we are done living – it is how we do our living at its fullest, highest, and holiest. The sign we should be looking for is not when it might be too late. The sign we should always be looking for is how God is calling us now to be the hands and feet of Jesus. And the pain we must avoid is not the pain in our bodies, but the pain in our hearts for all the times we fail to love God and love our neighbors.

Jesus is calling us to follow him. There is always going to be something else important that we have to do. The important becomes vital, however, when we do it as part of our following Jesus. The best time to follow Jesus is right now. The best to commit to a life of discipleship is before it is too late.

Let us stand and renew our commitment to follow Jesus this morning, as we sing UM Hymnal 399 “Take My Life, and Let It Be.” And if this is the first time for you to make that commitment, I invite you to come to the communion rail kneel before Jesus and accept your calling.