1 Kings 19:15-21; Psalm 16; Luke 9:51-62; Galatians 5:1, 13-25
Preachers like me sometimes talk rather glibly about following Jesus, as if it's the easiest and most obvious thing in the world to do. He's the one who knows us better than anyone else, who loves us more than anyone else. Following him may seem a no-brainer, especially for those of us who have always been to church, who were first brought as infants in carry-cots and who have faithfully attended church and played their part in a congregation through many decades since. Yet for Jesus' first followers, if we are to take seriously our Gospel reading this morning, keeping on following him after their first calling was by no means a foregone conclusion. And before we write that off to their limited knowledge or their inadequate faith, we should take seriously the circumstances that made them wonder.
Let's go back to Elijah and Elisha, in our Hebrew Bible reading. At the beginning of it, Elijah is just recovering from having heard God's voice - you remember? the voice that was not in wind, earthquake or fire but in the sound of silence? - and from the political programme that God has set out for him: choosing new kings for Aram and Israel. The bit missed out in the lectionary, which is a bit squeamish about such things, predicts the inevitable bloodbath that will ensue from these political actions. And his last task is to choose a new prophet to succeed him: Elisha.
Elijah duly carries out all God's commands, but when it comes to anointing Elisha as prophet, he seems to hesitate. Maybe he thinks back over his own tumultuous life - slaughtering prophets of Baal, standing up to kings and queens, living through drought and famine; overtaking chariots at full speed - and wonders: is this really something to wish on someone else? He throws his mantel over Elisha to indicate his new prophetic status. But when Elisha runs up, all keen to follow him, Elijah has a momentary qualm, and tells him, ‘Go back again; for what have I done to you?' Yet Elisha is willing to take on the prophetic burden along with Elijah's mantel. He sacrifices his oxen - burning his bridges, we might say, since cattle were then your bank account on the hoof - and follows Elijah. And we do not know whether or not he kissed his parents goodbye before taking the decision that would change his life forever.
Elisha's decision to follow Elijah, Jesus' friends' decision to carry on following him, may seem a long way from our own Christian discipleship, especially for those of us with no recollection of having made a deliberate choice to become Christians. Yet if we are seriously following Jesus there are always choices to be made in how we live.
Consider our reading from Paul's letter to the Galatians, where he contrasts life lived according to the flesh and according to the Spirit. Of course, when Paul's talking about ‘the flesh' he doesn't mean either meat in a butcher's shop or the extra inch round your waist that just won't disappear. By ‘the flesh' Paul means the impulses we all face to do what is wrong. And it's an interesting list of temptations he sends to the Galatians.
Following through our sexual desires with the wrong person or in the wrong way is evidently out; well, no news there. Ditto sorcery, of the non-Harry-Potter variety - trying to manipulate reality to match our desires isn't on. Drunkenness and carousing aren't obvious problems in this congregation - though you'll know if ever taking a little drink becomes a necessity rather than a pleasure, and consider the implications.
Yet prioritising other things over God - idolatry, in other words - may be a tougher question for us to handle. If we are to take our other two readings seriously, even our love for and responsibility to our family might get in the way of our loving God, of our following Jesus. That's something to consider: could it possibly apply to your own circumstances? If so, how might things change in your life for the better?
And then comes a whole raft of words describing broken relationships between people: enmities, strife, jealousy, anger, quarrels, dissensions, factions, envy. And these are sadly familiar to us, at least as possibilities. When I've been at Caledonian dos, I've occasionally picked up little undercurrents of ‘So-and-so won't speak to thingummy, so we can't put them on a table together.' Friendship groups, even in churches, can sometimes harden into cliques which don't take people outwith the group into account. And at the extreme, there are people recently on this congregation's membership list who, because of some argument long ago, are no longer seen among us, though no one now can remember the original cause of controversy. So here's a challenge for me as much as one for you: when we fall out, as will sometimes happen, how can we counter the desire to win the argument by acting lovingly to each other, forgiving each other the wrongs which initially separated us?
Thank God, that is no mere rhetorical question, but is answered very firmly by Paul: it's God's spirit - the same spirit which inspired Elijah and Elisha, the same spirit which informed Jesus' words and actions, which can help us as we choose to follow Jesus by living a Christian life. And the fruits of that continual recourse to God, that continual prayer of: ‘Help me, for on my own
I can't be loving,' are evident in Paul's second list.
They are evident too, from what I have seen, in at least one organisation that takes its life from this church: St Andrew's tennis club. It is known across Sheffield, not for the excellence of its players - though for all I know, that may be the case too - but because of its welcome to newcomers. Whoever you are, a novice or an expert, you don't need to bring a four with you and stick to your little group; whoever is there on club days will play together and improve their game. The club even decided to opt out of the lawn tennis association, because there was too much emphasis on knock-out competition, as opposed to just enjoying the game.
And there's a true echo of the Christian life. Why do we follow Jesus, when it's sometimes difficult and painful? Because it is also our joy. Our psalm speaks of our hearts as glad and our spirits rejoicing, because in God's presence we can be joyful and at rest. In the end, we do not follow God because we must, but because God's love is better than anything else in the world.