Sermons – September 2025

“Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children,
brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple.” Luke 14

On the day that we celebrate Lachlan’s baptism,
the allotted Gospel reading apparently declares war on family harmony.
To which you might ask: Really?
Is this the message on a day of beginning that best represents our faith?

Many years ago, a wise Roman Catholic nun confessed to me
that as a teenager, her mother had found the piece of paper
on which the daughter had written – repeatedly:
“I hate my mother! I hate my mother! I hate my mother!”
She didn’t of course; and her mother knew it.
But sometimes exaggeration is the thing.

So, to the customs and context of today’s alarming declaration.
Journeying to Jerusalem, Jesus now has something of a circus in tow –
large crowds are now follow in his wake.
Among them the committed, the curious, the critical,
the day-trippers, the what’s the latest trend hangers-on.
It is to this audience he unleashes his uncompromising words:
(versions of which occur five times in the gospels):
“If you’re not willing to take what is dearest to you,
whether plans or people, and kiss it good-bye,
you can’t be my disciple.” (The Message)

Jesus does not mean we should treat our families with antipathy or aversion.
Family, is not only a legitimate concern,
but often the source of great love and joy.
Hating parents, spouses, siblings and children is hyperbole,
to express a different truth –
authentic discipleship, may/will demand
renunciation of other priorities –
even good ones –
family, work, career,
sport, hobby, possessions, money,
club, country, tradition, even religion –
if it is distracting from the things of God.
Jesus’s calls for an allegiance above all these:
His meaning, not so much – hate the family –
But – love God most.

It is a big ask.
Jesus knows it’s hard, so he advises his listeners to stop and count the costs.
A careful builder, never breaks ground
without taking a good, hard look at his/her budget.
A wise general doesn’t declare war
unless he’s sure his troops are equipped and battle-ready.
Discipleship, Jesus warns, is not a weekend hobby or a holiday destination.
It is a is reordering of identities and priorities.
A “hating” of that which is too narrow, too exclusive;
a loyalty to that which is broad, inclusive, boundless.

“Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.”
Discipleship is costly.
In parts of the world being a follower of Jesus comes with costs.
Brutal costs.
Mercifully we do not come to church under threat of violence or persecution.
But speaking out through conscience or engaging in contemporary issues
because of the demands of the gospel demands a price.

As one observer commented:
“When you invite homeless people into a respectable church,
or advocate that asylum seekers are people with the same rights as the rest of us,
or march for peace against the drum beat of war,
regardless of the cost,
Christians will not be automatically admired or applauded.
There will be accusations of irresponsibility,
a failure to honour certain precious things –
like honour and dignity, tradition, family, church and country;
The competing loyalties that Jesus warned about.”

“Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple.”

Jesus surveys the large crowds along for the ride:
“Go big or go home. Are you all in?
Because you will need to be, if you’re coming all the way.”

When we hear Jesus words that seem particularly harsh, uncomfortable,
it is worth remembering that his intention is always loving.
If he is critical, it is because he knows a better way.
Discipleship is costly – but so too is non-discipleship.
To not follow also comes at cost –
a kind of loss, a life half-lived.
In the phrase of a character from an Anne Tyler novel: The Amateur Marriage,
Michael Anton lived no major dramas but retained a sense of regret:
“He wished he had inhabited more of his life, used it better, filled it fuller.”

Jesus’ call to following him is the invitation to push out into deeper water –
not necessarily knowing where it will lead,
but given the promise that it will always be in the company of Christ.
Luke emphasizes what is gained:
“There is no one who has left house or wife or brothers or parents or children, for the sake of the kingdom of God,
who will not get back very much more in this age,
and in the age to come eternal life.” (Luke 18:29-30)

If it is encouragement to persevere is required,
or discernment of what is ultimately of worth,
and perhaps as partial redress to “hate your family” on this baptismal day –
let me finish with words received this week –
delivered in the lyrics of a song,
Entitled, “Love behind it all.”.

Composed by a father, written for his daughter, now away from home.
It references childhood days:
Listening for a baby’s cry through the night.
Or teaching the child to ride a bike – arms out catch a fall.

All those petty rules
the don’t be lates for school
The tidy up your room
when your homework is done
That drove us both up the wall.
But there was love behind it all.

And at its conclusion:
And they say you’ll love me,
then you’ll judge me,
and maybe you’ll forgive me.
So I live in hope that one day you’ll recall
that it was love behind it all.

Parenting love a small echo of the Divine Parental Love,
Jesus words: One day I hope you’ll recall that it was love behind it all.