THERE ARE TWO ROADS …
Rev. Dr. Dennis Winkleblack
Prospect United Methodist Church
Bristol, Connecticut
June 20, 2010
Luke 9: 51-62
Gal 5: 1, 13-25
Today is Father’s Day. Although it’s a great day to be a father, today isn’t a major day on the Christian calendar like Christmas or Easter. In fact, it’s not even as big a deal as mother’s day, let’s be honest!
Nevertheless, this morning we’re going to remember another day, a day that was critical in the life of Jesus. A red letter day to be sure. A day without which there would have been no crucifixion long ago.
What am I talking about? The gospel reading for today is all about a crucial decision that Jesus had to make. We read: "When the days drew near for him to be taken up, He steadfastly set his face to go to Jerusalem." That is, He went to Jerusalem when he could have stayed to Galilee.
Click here to look at this map. Do you see Galilee? Do you see Jerusalem? Galilee is where Jesus was from. This is the region in which he performed most of the miracles we read about in the Bible. Jerusalem was where he decided to head.
Truth is, Galilee and Jerusalem are not only places on a map; they are also places in our souls. Galilee is out in the hinterland. Galilee is a place of simple, rural people, home, and safety – maybe think upper New England.
Galilee is where Jesus spent most of his earthly life without attracting much notice whatsoever by the outside world. Jerusalem was another matter. It was more like New York and Washington, D.C. combined. Cosmopolitan. Often crowded.
Almost ironically, the word Jerusalem means "peace?" Of course, it doesn’t mean that now nor did it mean that for Jesus. In fact, it turned out to be a place of suffering and death. In Jesus’ day, it was Galilee that meant peace, a haven, home. Jerusalem was the opposite.
But Jesus steadfastly set his face, the Bible says. The Greek idiom in the Gospel is "he made his face into hard flint to go to Jerusalem." If we were to look more closely at Jesus’ flint like face we would see many things. One, we would see struggle.
We are mistaken if we think that Jesus was done with temptation back in Luke’s chapter four when we read about how Satan tempted him in the wilderness. Not at all. Jesus was tempted all the way to the end.
Two roads. There were two roads for Jesus. They diverged. One led back to Galilee, to home and safety. The other led to Jerusalem and suffering and betrayal.
Imagine yourself in Jesus’ shoes. Out there, beyond the green fields, is Nazareth, a quaint village close to the little sea of Galilee. Surely, any reasonable person could have figured, in Galilee there were plenty of people in need, bodies to be healed, scripture to be taught, and little children to be blessed. Plus you were near your family for birthdays and other festivals. Who could blame Jesus for settling in to Galilee?
But Jesus decided that such was a temptation that he couldn’t afford to succumb to. So, he set his face like flint to go to Jerusalem.
Mark says that when Jesus set his face toward Jerusalem, his disciples "were amazed." You know why they were amazed? They were amazed and astonished at his decision because they knew what might happen if he went to the big city where the authorities of both religion and government lived. So, they urged him to stay out in Galilee with the good country people; let the city fend for itself.
Then, when Jesus, despite their advice, set off toward Jerusalem, his friends were said to be "afraid." Afraid for him and afraid for themselves because he and they were bound to encounter those milling, thronging crowds in Jerusalem, whipped up into rebellious frenzy by the coming celebration of the Passover.
It was the kind of place where just a little spark, a too passionate sermon, a wrong word here or there and the whole thing would burst into flames. Jesus set his face toward Jerusalem and his followers were afraid.
Bishop Will Willimon points out that these are two words we almost never, ever put in close proximity: struggle and spirituality. Spirituality is what we talk about when we talk about feeling at peace. Or we might say we’re feeling centered because we’re exercising our spirituality. And, of course, that’s one function of faith, to be more centered, stable. If I were to ask you to write on your bulletins why you’ve come to worship, many, maybe most might write, “I come for peace, a calming of the nerves. I've got a lot of stress in my life, many demands, tension. This place, these people, the worship and music help me to settle down and be at peace."
Luke says it wasn’t to be so with Jesus. In Galilee there was time for quiet walks and periods spent by the Sea of Galilee. But when he got to Jerusalem he did things like flipping over the tables in the Temple. And we read before his arrest that he prayed with great drops of sweat like blood and white knuckles in Gethsemane. The word is struggle.
Jesus possibly didn't really want to go to Jerusalem. But he had to. Accordingly, what we see in his decision to go to Jerusalem was the embodying of a virtue not much in fashion any more: obedience. So another word to join spirituality and struggle is obedience.
In our mind’s eye, we can see him hesitating a moment before those road signs pointing in opposite directions - one back to the safety of Galilee, another to the peril of Jerusalem.
And then he said, "Nevertheless, not my will but thine be done." “The time is fulfilled. It’s time, guys, it’s time.”
He set his face like flint, gritted his teeth, not in resignation at the mysterious will of God, but in obedience to his Father. The word is obedience.
It was about this time, before the week was done in Jerusalem, that another word broke in upon Jesus and his followers which added to the meaning of spirituality, struggle and obedience. The word is “love.” The greatest sacrifices, the largest risks, the greatest ventures are undertaken only in the name of love – wouldn’t you agree?
The biologist will tell you that our strongest drive at birth is self-preservation. But if we’re fortunate, as we grow, and other lives touch ours, this drive at birth gives way to a higher drive, a much more noble virtue, where struggle and obedience melt and we are most truly who we are created to be.
We can never explain Jesus setting his face toward Jerusalem and his massive sacrifice, unless we use that word, love.
The great preacher, George Buttrick, told the following story: Some years ago there was a newspaper account of two men coming down a factory staircase and of one of them flinging the lighted end of a cigarette into what he thought was a fire bucket filled with water. The water proved to be gasoline. There was a sudden burst of flame. One man instinctively, ran downstairs to save his skin. The other, just as instinctively ran upstairs to warn the people working in the factory floor above him.
So which would it be for you? Which self takes over in such a time? The downstairs self? Or the upstairs self? The Galilee self? Or the Jerusalem self?
When love goes to its deepest level, it tends to become sacrificial. Like a father’s love maybe. Or like a mother’s love. Love is the deepest love when it is given away on behalf of others. Jesus went to Jerusalem, into the breach, into the fray, for love.
So for you and me, this morning of maybe it was yesterday morning or maybe it’ll be tomorrow morning there may be two roads, one north to Galilee, one south to Jerusalem.
I know and you know the goodness God grants us year after year in quiet Galilee where we rest secure in God’s everlasting arms enjoying peace and a center. I also know as do you that in the love of God, God brings us to those pivotal turning points when the path diverges and we are confronted with the possibility of an easy way out, or a time of struggle, obedience, and sacrifice.
Bishop Willimon writes further about talking to a man whose beloved wife died a year earlier. He asked him how he was doing. This is what he said, "I learned to stare this thing in the face. I have learned to dive into the grief, take it straight. I've forced myself to get out, to go places we once shared together. It's hard. It's miserable. It's necessary. I'm making it through this thing." That man set his face toward his own Jerusalem.
Peace or struggle. Yielding to the temptation to flee -- Or obediently yielding to God.
We’re probably well advised not to think of the Christian life only as a matter of finding peace, joy, and all the other Galilean virtues. Sometimes, of course. But not all times. Because it depends on which road we take. For if we would walk with Jesus as he sets his face toward Jerusalem, sometimes we'll have to go down that narrow, counter way.
As we read in the scripture, one person said, "I'll follow you; but let me first say goodbye to the folks at home." That won’t wash, Jesus said, saying further, "The Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head."
And sometimes, either literally or figuratively: neither do we. But when we’re trying to be obedient we know that we’re going down the way with Jesus. Which it’ll always be okay.
Thanks to Bishop Will Willimon for the ideas presented in and format of this sermon.
