Eye-rolling

"You can't tell me what to do!"

That should sound familiar.  If it doesn't, then you've been too busy saying it, instead of listening to others say it to you.  Now, this is the kind of spoiled, petulant sentence you'd expect to hear from someone who has just discovered that they're an adult now, and you can' tell them what to do.  And those of us who have been adults for long enough, we sort of cluck our thick tongues, and suggest oh so very delicately that perhaps folks might want to consider.  After all, we've been around for a while, and we know what's what, and perhaps the younger generation might benefit from our advanced knowledge.

But they'd rather not.

They're convinced, up and down, that they should be the only ones who have anything to say about anything.  They're 19 now, and they don't have to listen to anything anyone says, no matter how well meaning the advice.

And you and I might think that they should. But we're not much good at taking well meaning advice ourselves, don't you know.  You'll remember, no doubt, on Sunday, how I talked about people not liking what they might end up hearing from the pulpit.  Well, I hope I primed you especially well, because you'll never believe what we've got for a reading this upcoming Sunday.

Ephesians 5:22-33

I'll pause for a moment and let that sink in.  Oh wait.  You might not know what Ephesians 5:22-33 is off the top of your head.  Allow me to elucidate for you.  It begins thusly:

"Wives, submit to your husbands..."

Ladies, do you react to this verse with this much glee?

You're not interested in hearing the rest, are you?  You're really not.  Because if you're a sensible, progressive Christian, you've all but buried this passage way at the back of your 'things I want to hear from the pulpit, from a pastor, heck from anyone' list.  It all seems hopelessly out of date, doesn't it?  It would seem quaint, if it wasn't so offensive.  The whole idea of submission gets everyone all up in arms before any actual conversation begins.  We get a little bit bothered by it right away.  And because it's such a hot button topic, it shuts down the conversation before it even starts.  

As well it might.

But I hope you learned something from the sermon on Sunday.  That is, if you were there.  My main point was talking about the reaction that Jesus got when he started talking to his disciples about the necessity of communion, his death and resurrection, and all that.  And when the people heard it, they said, in delightful ESV english

"This is a hard teaching.  Who can listen to it?"

And from that point, many of his disciples turned back.  I have long loved this passage as a very poignant scene being painted in the scriptures.  Here is Jesus, desperately telling his followers about the reason that they should be following him, for the love of God and the life everlasting, all that, and when he levels the boom, and delivers a hard teaching, they turn back.  It reminds me an awful lot of a story my father told me (my father being a most eminent biologist), about a guy who was taking a course, and had a deferred test, for whatever reason or other.  So he went in for the deferred test, and it was a lab test.  Question one was "Describe the condition of the specimen."  

To which the guy said "This is too hard, I'm dropping the course."

And he did.

We're struggling right now with our son, and his reading and math and all that, because he knows how to do it, he knows how to put his shoes and clothes on and all that, but if you ask him to, he will immediately replay with "I caaaaaaaaaan't".  Our attitude as people seems to be that the first bump in the road we hit, we're out.  We're gone.  We want out right away.  We're in no mood to wait around to see things get better.  We want out and we want out now.  If things aren't wonderful, if we can't succeed the first time around, if things aren't totally rosy for us to begin with, then we want out.

And you're going to want out after Sunday.  Believe me, you're going to want out.  I'm going to talk about Christian marriage, and spoiler alert, you might not want to hear it.  You may hear it and say 'well this is a hard teaching, who can listen to it?'  Actually, you're more likely to say 'this is bronze age-mumbo jumbo, written by a misogynist, who had huge problems with women, therefore I have no interest in continuing this relationship with this any further.'

But hold your horses.

The second half of the poignant scene with Jesus and his disciples comes into things after everyone else has cleared out.  And Jesus says to the twelve 'are you going to leave too?'  Everyone else is gone, why not you guys?  And Peter says something that has been a part of our liturgy for as long as I can remember.  I grew up singing this as part of the liturgy, the gospel acclamation.

Alleluia, Lord, to whom shall we go?  You have the words

of eternal life.  Alleluia alleluia.

It's a beautiful part of our liturgy, and it says more than we think it does.  Right before we hear the Gospel reading, we echo the beaten and thrashed, yet curiously hopeful disciples, saying that we, like they, have nowhere else to go to get life.  Where else could we go. The disciples didn't answer 'wow, Jesus, we totally love everything you say' because they don't.  They didn't say 'we adore when you tell people tough stuff' because they didn't like that either.  Instead, they say 'we have a hard time with this too, but where else could we possibly go?  You have life.  You've had life from the beginning.  You ARE life.'

And knowing that, it makes the bits that you don't like a little easier to get through.  You see, the bits you don't like, those are a problem.  But instead of turning back at the first bump in the road (or more accurately, turning back after this Sunday), we're supposed to get something figured out first:  God is God.  If he has something to say, it's a good idea to listen.  And we may not like it.  We may not agree. We may get all sorts of cross and walk away mad.  I understand that.  I'm a human being too, and I don't overly care for what God has to say sometimes.  

But it's like when your parents give you advice.  You may roll your eyes, you may grumble, you may get a little bit annoyed by what they have to say.  You may be displeased by their interference.  But you can't just shake them off.  Think about why they give you advice, even the advice you might disagree with.  They do it because they love you, and because they want the best for you.  You may dislike the advice.  You may not take the advice, but before you stomp away angry, from either God or your earthly parents, remember that they have your best in mind.  They want you to be happy, they want you to have life, and to have it abundantly.  The Bible frames it with the words 

Fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom

And so it is.  If you've got fear of the Lord down pat, if you know that the advice he offers is in your best interests, then you can listen to it or not, but you'll be way less tempted to just walk away.  Because he has the words of eternal life.

PJ.