Sermon: Luke 9:51-62, Third Sunday after Pentecost

June 29, 2025
Faith-La Fe Lutheran Church
Deacon Intern Carly Chamberlain

I have a question. Do you identify with any of the three travelers that Jesus encounters in this passage? Maybe you’re the enthusiastic and willing disciple who declares – perhaps ignorantly – that he will follow Jesus wherever he will go? Or perhaps you’re the one to whom Jesus says “follow me,” but you’ve got some duties at home that require your full attention until you have the time do as Jesus says, like the second traveler. Or are you the third, who volunteers to follow Jesus, but only after he’s had a chance to tie up some loose ends?

Personally, I identify most with the first traveler. I’m not sure that I’ve ever shared my story of being called to ministry with you, and as my time as your Deacon Intern draws to a close, this passage compels me to tell you a little bit about my walk with Jesus. 

It was Ash Wednesday of 2019 when I sat in the back pew in this very sanctuary and read this message printed in the bulletin:

Ash Wednesday begins the Christian season of Lent. We will spend the coming days journeying with Jesus toward the cross; toward the death that  ultimately brings resurrection life. Many of us will spend these coming days practicing a new spiritual discipline, or giving up something that seems to be getting in the way of our relationship with God.

This seemingly innocuous paragraph completely changed my life. In reading that, I entered a time of prayer, asking God to open my eyes to that which I’ve placed above God in my own life, declaring that I am ready to give more to God than 90 minutes on Sunday mornings. “I’m ready, God,” I prayed as tears streamed down my face, “I’m ready to take up my cross and follow you.” And then worship began. 

I didn’t know, really, what I would get into when God answered my prayer; and I knew it was “when,” not “if.” You don’t just tell God that you’re ready to do the work with no results. From that point on, I felt like God was just slamming doors open for me. I enrolled in Diakonia – an educational program for lay-folks who want to deepen their theological education, which ultimately led me to seminary. I got more involved here. I even became your office administrator for a year. 

After some time in discernment with the Bishop and other synod staff, our pastor at the time, and close friends who knew me well, it became clear to me that I was called to the ministry of word & service. I felt as though a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. All of these years of journeying, of wondering where I was going, when I would finally feel like I was meant for the work that I was doing, had brought me to exactly the spot where God had always intended for me to be. Right here, with you.

But it hasn’t been easy! Jesus reminds the enthusiastic follower that the son of man has no place to lay his head, illustrating that the messages he will spread as a follower of Christ may not be well received everywhere he goes. The work this enthusiastic follower will do as a disciple of Christ may not be what the people want; much like the Samaritans who sent Jesus on his way without helping him along his journey.

So as you see, I identify with the enthusiastic – if ill informed – would-be follower of Christ. What about you? 

If you identify with the traveler who asks for time to bury his father, what is happening in your life, or your community, that keeps you tied to your responsibilities instead of proclaiming the kingdom of God? Maybe you’re holding onto an old habit that no longer serves you but gets between you and your relationship with God. Our siblings in Christ down at Grace Lutheran Church are walking into a signifcant time of discernment for their congregation as they determine whether their longheld ministries are still serving their community. It’s never easy to recognize that something that once served you personally – or something that once served the community at large – is no longer the work that we need to be doing. Change is often hard, albeit a necessary aspect of life.

As a community, we might see that in our responsibilities to this building and the grounds on which it stands. Or perhaps – like Grace Lutheran – we feel tied down by ministries past as we desire to look toward the future of proclaiming the kingdom of God. Maybe we all see ourselves responding to Jesus’ command to “follow me,” by pointing to ourselves and saying, “Me? Uh… well I’ve got uh… something to do. It’s… real important. I’ve uh… already moved it twice, so um… Later?” 

But it’s the traveler who wants to say goodbye to his family that really gets me. Does Jesus truly want him to drop everything right now and embark on this journey? When we place this passage next to our first reading from 1 Kings, it’s nearly impossible not to compare the third traveler with the prophet Elisha. The author of Luke likely drew that line as a literary device to illustrate the differences between the prophet Elijah and Jesus Christ. While Elijah gave Elisha the time he needed to make a nice dinner and going away party for his friends and family, Jesus says if you’ve got to go back, my dude, maybe this isn’t the work for you.

I wonder in what ways are you, like the third traveler and Elisha, looking back at the life you live in this world, delaying your entry into this life of world-turning work with Jesus by your side? Are you concerned about resources enough to maintain your rent or mortgage, your health insurance plan, car payment, student loans, credit card debts, the list goes on, and on, and on. There’s always something tapping on our shoulder, asking you to turn around and focus on anything but proclaiming the kingdom of God.

In Galatians, Paul gives us a helpful tool for identifying what it is that is tapping us on the shoulder; by identifying works of the flesh – which I often think of as “the world,” – or fruits of the Spirit: that which fills us and brings us peace. When strife comes up; when we’re faced with factions, envy, anger, we know that what we’re looking at is works of the flesh. These are a totally normal part of daily life for a human person, but they are not of the divine. These are often the things that hold us back from the challenging yet necessary work that Jesus calls us to along the road. It’s interesting to see factions on the list of the works of the flesh, considering how often we lament this us-and-them mentality that plagues our nation and world. 

In our shared life together here at Faith-La Fe, we have the opportunity to turn away from the factions that the news seems to be calling us to; the division that has led many of our Latino siblings of color to hide in their homes, taking their children out of school, avoiding work, or the grocery store, for fear that they too will be swept up, arrested, and detained, regardless of their citizenship status. 

My friends, I am telling you that this is happening here, in our very own community. And the powers that be are not targeting “dangerous criminals,” like they say they are! They’re targeting stay-at-home moms, teachers, day laborers, servers, cashiers, landscapers, office workers, even legislators! This activity is the work of the flesh; the call of the world built by flawed humans. 

But Paul also writes about the fruits of the Spirit, which include love, peace, kindness, and generosity, among some other really good ones. When we live by the Spirit, we are guided by the Spirit, Paul says, and she will show us the way to open our hearts, our ears and our eyes to the cries of those who have been left voiceless by enmity, anger, factions and the like. 

Make no mistake, when I say voiceless, I do not mean powerless. The beloved children of God who have been targeted as the enemy in today’s political landscape – the latino, black, trans, and otherwise villainized and minoritzed communities – are not incapable of organizing to make sure their voices are heard, as evidenced by the Black Lives Matter movement, by Cesar Chavez and the National Farmworkers Association, by Marsha P. Johnson and the Stonewall uprising in 1969. But for those of us whose intersections allow us to walk through this world unnoticed, we cannot accept the luxury of sitting idly by as we listen to their struggles to be heard.

Let the dead bury their own dead, Jesus says. Do not wait until someone invites you to the fight for justice. Do not wait until you’ve gotten the promotion at work, or your financial debts have been cleared. Do not wait for the day of your father’s death so that you can be sure to give him a proper burial, as tradition calls for, like the second traveler. Let the dead bury their own dead. 

For you are alive in Christ and you are freed from the snares of this world that want you to engage in idolatry, quarrels and carousing.

So I ask you once more, which traveler do you identify with most? As you come to the table today to share in the gift that God gave us in the kenosis - the self-pouring of Christ - I ask you to consider where you see the fruits of the spirit in your life, and where you wish there was more of it. What are the things that Jesus is telling you are going to be hard work? What responsibilities are you beholden to that would make Jesus say to you “let the dead bury the own dead”? What lies behind you that tempts you to stay back and delay your willingness to embark on this journey with Jesus? 

Wherever you are on this journey, whatever propels you and whatever holds you back, you are welcome at this table and in this meal. You are called to the world-turning work of welcoming the stranger, feeding the hungry, visiting the sick and imprisoned, and giving water to those who thirst. You are needed in this world, in this city, in this community, at this table, in whatever way you’re capable. Because you are fearfully and wonderfully made in the image of God. Praise be to God. Amen.