Luke 14, Part I: The Theology of Negativity

Preface

            When we read the Bible, we have to take extra caution when we reach the words of Jesus. His words are never frivolous, his intentions never abstract. We should always read his words with slow, careful attitudes. Allow Jesus' words to interpret you before you try to interpret them. With that being said, I was reading Luke chapter 14 a few weeks ago and it struck me as one of the more odd passages. Starting with verse 25, Luke records Jesus' teaching on the cost of discipleship. This entry is devoted to the strange but significant language that is used throughout his teaching.

No, No, No

            After getting to know the person of Jesus Christ, it doesn’t take the Reader long to recognize that Jesus isn't always understandable and neither is he just a really nice guy. Sometimes he speaks harshly. The second half of Luke 14 is one of those harder passages. It is a calling unlike any other in all of Scripture. It is a salvation message that rarely gets repeated today in a world of niceness and feel-good messages.

Jesus, the Messiah, is walking around the countryside of Judea and turns to the large crowd that's following him and spouts out a slew of negative language that, when added together, constitutes a very positive message. These are the words of Christ: "'If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters-- yes, even his own life-- he cannot be my disciple.'" Whoa. He's not done… "'And anyone who does not carry his cross and follow me cannot be my disciple'" (Luke 14:25-27). Jesus continues his seemingly backward approach by using two examples of what it looks like to count the cost of discipleship: construction and war. Throughout these two hypothetical stories, Jesus remains negative.

When speaking of the builder, he supposes that the man building who "does not sit down and estimate the cost "will not be able to finish" and will be ridiculed (v. 28-30). He explains the wrong way to construct a tower... as opposed to the right way. The optimist's perspective of building a tower is to admire and anticipate it's shelter, architectural beauty, the grand design, etcetera. But what I'm trying to say is that Jesus chose to speak from the negative, seemingly pessimistic angle of construction: the cost. He speaks of construction as destruction. Because of the context, Dear Reader, and for the sake of ease and functionality, in this entry (and the one following it) I will use destruction synonymously with construction. I hope you understand.

In his second example, he speaks, oddly enough, of war. Again, if the king "does not consider" what it will take to win the war, "he will not be able" to win and will have to discuss terms of peace (v. 31-32). There is no optimistic view of war. The mere fact that Jesus chose to use this as his example of the cost of discipleship is strange enough. Notice that he implies discussing "terms of peace" is a bad thing and being prepared to fight is a good thing.

He finishes his talk accordingly: "[A]ny of you who does not give up everything he has, he cannot be my disciple" (v.33). First, he turns to the crowd and talks about hating everything, then of the cost and destruction required in building, then of war!?!

            Strange, huh? I mean, that doesn't sound like the stereotypical, three-point "alter call" kind of sermon one might hear on a Sunday morning. It's strange… the whole idea behind his inverted salvation message is focused on the cost not the gain of being a believer. Jesus begins this lesson with a negative ("hate") and ends it with a negative ("cannot without").Why didn't Jesus speak more positively and warmly? Why couldn't he have said it like this: "To follow me you must love everyone, you must lay down everything in your life, and follow me. Count the cost of what it'll take to follow me before you enter into relationship with me. Then, you can become my disciple"? Doesn't that sound friendlier? Doesn't that have a more politically correct ring to it? It feels better going down that way, huh?

            So, why did he use such negative language? What happens when he phrases it that way? The significance of Jesus' negative language is worth examining. There is a unique power in what he's saying here.

The Theology of Negativity

           

            The life of a disciple requires as much denial as it does acceptance; it takes death and destruction before we can receive the ultimate life and creation. Look at it this way: in order for Christ to live in us, something must die. We must deny ourselves (Luke 9:23). To be "more than conquerors" there must be something that is conquered (Romans 8). To marry one woman, one must reject all other women; to chose God is to deny all other gods.

            But hate? That's a bit strong, Jesus. Did he really say that we must "hate" our family? Yes he did, but before we jump to the conclusion that he was a heretical, hypocritical lunatic, we must first investigate the context and the word's true definition. The word hate in Greek is miseó which is derived from the word misos which means "to love less." Of course Jesus wasn't suggesting that we should wish death upon our family. For that would go against God's very own decrees. Instead, he was saying that we ought to love our families and our friends and those around us less than we love God. The moment anything is cherished more than God is the very same moment that those items are cast in bronze and worshiped as an idol.

            Sports provide a picture that might help clear up this theology of negativity. An athlete must say no to certain foods in order to maintain a healthy diet all for the sake of becoming a better athlete. He must deny warm Krispy Kreme doughnuts that are dripping with sugar, he must deny a 24 ounce Dr. Pepper for brunch, he must deny Pop-Tarts in the morning, and he must deny sleeping 14 hours a night. Why? So that he may keep his body in shape. Running is not enough. It is a lifestyle of discipline. At times we must forgo comfort for Christ's sake. The very act of obedience requires the denial of other actions, right? When I was younger, my dad would ask me to mow the lawn. Sometimes reluctantly, I'd put down my action figure, or whatever I was playing with, and mow the lawn. By doing what he asked of me, I was not doing a million other actions. It is the same in our relationship with God. Meditating on His Word is choosing not to do anything else with that moment of your time. Discipline is denial.

            Reader, I pray that we'd say yes to God and no to whatever else captures our attention. I pray that you and I hunger to hate everyone else in comparison to God. I pray that we don't just listen or understand the theology of negativity, but that we practice it. Learn to say no to everyone and everything else but God. He is the Way, the Truth, and the Life and He has true living water that does not run dry. Amen.

Eat Church

           Part of my current occupation is traveling around playing drums behind Jared Anderson (www.jaredanderson.com). I lead worship with him on a somewhat regular basis. Over the course of the last two years or so, I've traveled all over the United States with him and, even as I write this, I'm in Nova Scotia, Canada. To say the least, participating in this extension of God's work is a blessing. We visit these places to minister, but we walk away with abundant blessings that exceed what seems equal wherever we go. Traveling with him reveals to me how God works. He rises and resurrects himself within us and flows into others… only to find that the same Spirit flows right back into us. It is a sort of constant flowing stream of God; it is fluid… it saturates like water… it seeps through and soaks.

            What I have to say to you today, Reader, is very simple: Open your eyes to the family of God. I feel very corny talking this way, but bear with me… I have been so blessed by the broken, awkward, sinful, and sometimes stinky family of God! Perhaps the aspect of my ministry with Anderson that has the biggest impact on me is the recognition of  the enormity of the Body of Christ. I get a unique perspective that very few people get: I get to see the larger scope of the Church at large. I get to see what God is doing in and through the lives of people all around the country. What an incredible blessing! To experience the vast reach of the Spirit and to get a glimpse of the immensity of His Bride humbles me and reveals my role, my part in this grand generational parade of Christ's. There's nothing quite like it. It is as if I'm standing in some freakishly huge auditorium with hundreds of thousands of people all singing the same song and the lyrics of which are not written down or memorized but are being fed to us intrinsically. Imagine the sound of that voice! Imagine the thunderous melody of that song! With one voice we praise you, God! Glory to You in the highest! We exalt you! I mean, imagine us singing with hundreds of thousands of people. Rex tremendae! Beautiful.

            The reason I'm telling you about this is to help you become aware of the gorgeousness of the Church. "The only place big enough for you, God," Jared often says, "is our hearts." To limit God to an organization, a denomination, or a building is blasphemous. We are Christ's body… we, a damaged, incorrigible, lying, group of sinners are redeemed by the Spirit's breath and are married into the body of Christ. We are His flesh, we are his artwork (Ephesians 2:5-6, 10). We, the Church, are likened to a physical body because we work in much of the same way. Peter Hiett, a passionate and poetic pastor at The Sanctuary Downtown in Denver, Colorado is one of my favorite teachers to listen to (www.tsdowntown.com). He paints it this way, "Every member of my body drinks blood from another member of my body. Every member of my body bleeds into another member of my body. Every member of my body feels the pain of every other member of my body, and participates in the joy of the whole thing" (from "Zombies and Vampires", 5/18/10). See, we all work together alongside our Father. Our lives as the Church commune eucharistically and align perfectly with the way Jesus spoke of his body: "This is my body given for you… this is my blood, which is poured out for you" (Luke 22:19-20). We partake of Christ's body. We ingest him as we feed each other. The beauty of that, Dear Reader, is a wonder that cannot be explained! I dare you to look at your church family in that way next time you walk through the doors on a Sunday morning.

Too often, disciples of Jesus leave from one community to the next in search of a perfect church organization. It is sought in vain. I agree with Eugene Peterson: "There is much naiveté regarding sin in Christian communities. For a people whose text for living is the Bible, a book in which 'all have sinned' (Rom. 3:23) is documented on virtually every page, this is an enormous irony." So, I implore you, Reader, to throw off all of those things that "harden your heart" (Hebrews 3:8) and to see the Church as God sees it. After all, it is his Bride. He, like any respectable husband, is jealously in love with his Bride… with flaws, blemishes, and all so that his grace may abound all the more (Romans 5:20).