So, when I was a kid, my family took a turn at trying out First Presbyterian Church in downtown Chattanooga. Now this was a big deal. First Pres was a huge church, a mega-church before there were mega-churches. All the big wheels in town went there. If there was anything resembling the “passing of the peace,” like we do, it wasn't to shake hands, but to exchange business cards.
The head pastor of the church was Ben Haden, an honestly cool dude, who had been a newspaper editor in Texas and a CIA spy. He had found the Lord during all of this and began preaching in a small church. And he moved up and up until he was a-pastoring giant First Pres. He built a radio studio on site and became a major voice on the Moody Broadcasting network, a national Christian radio network out of Chicago that still operates to this day.
In fact, the church got so big, both physically and congregationally, that people around town starting referring to First Pres as “St. Ben's Basilica.”
But, y'all. First Pres did not, and to this day, does not make an impact in the life of the Chattanooga community. If there is a disaster, First Pres is the first church NOT to be there. If people are in need, First Pres is the first church to give them a list of phone numbers of other places to call. If people are hungry, First Pres sends them to the Episcopalians (who corner the market in feeding ministry).
First Pres' ministry is to itself: it has an awesome choir, beautiful grounds, a fantastic parking lot, and a staff of 19 all-white, cis-gendered folks, with an additional 5 all-male pastors. The LGBTQ community is certainly not allowed; people of color are followed and watched because, you know, criminals. And immigrants are ministered to with a card that begins “Hola!” along with some Spanish, directing them some place else.
Within this space is a little island of Episcopalianism. Christ Church Chattanooga, is a tiny, Old-old building with a cranky group of parishioners. Their church boarders the University of Tennessee at Chattanooga on one side and the ever-encroaching First Pres on the other. For decades, First Pres has tried every underhanded, and overhanded, way to get that property. To no avail. The diocese isn't budging, and neither is Christ Church.
They are a small group that attends regularly, but they punch above their weight. They are the only church on the main drag of churches downtown that flies a pride flag (college students attend there are a rate of 5 to 1 as opposed to First Pres which also boarders UTC). They have converted the rectory into a homeless shelter. They have daily soup and sandwiches for the homeless and are major supporters of the food pantry. And they have just joined the migrant outreach coalition, fighting the good fight in a state that prioritizes snatching up brown folk.
And do it because they are cranky. They see the world as it is and want to change it. Because the world they see is not loving God and not loving their neighbor, and as they understand it, those are the very two things that Jesus commands us to do. The trappings of First Pres are pretty and all, but they are just trappings that come along with acquiescence to the system and collaboration against the widows and orphans and aliens in their midst. Hypocrisy is something that First Pres excels at and Christ Church refuses to do.
Now, in our gospel reading today, Jesus seems to be as cranky as those good souls at Christ Church. He's been asked a question, “Jesus, what can my family do to divide our wealth up fairly.” And I can just see Jesus whipping his head around and giving this guy a “Friend...” Like a frustrated, “Dude...are you serious? The world is on fire and, you want me to make sure that everyone in your family gets a fair share of the wealth you made on the backs of others?” It's as if Jesus is standing on a street corner of today's America, or in the halls of power, or in some rich man's enclave just looking around and shaking his head.
“Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth,” says Paul to the Colossians..”Put to death, therefore, whatever in you is earthly: fornication, impurity, passion, evil desire, and greed. . .These are the ways you also once followed, when you were living that life. But now you must get rid of all such things-- anger, wrath, malice, slander, and abusive language from your mouth.
But, it's hard to put all those things aside, right? Especially when our country looks up to so many people who put such stock in them. When we gain such enjoyment in watching people be cruel to each other. When we say to our soul, “Soul, ain't nothing wrong with gettin' my share and then some. Regardless of how the gettin' is gotten.” Y'all, what an awful way to claim Christianity. What an awful way to claim to be a follower of Christ.
Before World War II, in 1937, the German theologian, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, wrote The Cost of Discipleship. In it, he talked about Cheap Grace. “Cheap grace,” he said, “is the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance, baptism without church discipline. Communion without confession. Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, grace without Jesus Christ, living and incarnate.”
Cheap grace is saying, “I'm a Christian” in order to belong to the right group, in order to fit in, in order to be more oppressor than oppressed. Cheap grace is the prize of power instead of love, the benefit of status instead of service. Cheap grace is cheap because it's really not grace at all. Cheap grace says, “Of course you have sinned, but now everything is forgiven, and you can stay exactly as you are.” Cheap grace requires everything that Jesus does not.
But, Bonhoeffer goes on to say, there is also Costly Grace. “Costly grace confronts us as a gracious call to follow Jesus, it comes as a word of forgiveness to the broken spirit and the contrite heart. It is costly because it compels a man to submit to the yoke of Christ and follow him; it is grace because Jesus says: 'My yoke is easy and my burden is light."'
Costly grace comes at a cost because it asks us to give up so much. Not just wealth, but status. Not just knowing what WE are living through, but understanding what others are living through...because of us. Not just sympathizing with “the other,” but engaging the other, brown or trans, migrant or Muslim, alienated or poor, hungry or afraid, and saying, “There, that is my brother; there, that is my sister. There...that is me.” Costly grace is the true cost of loving our neighbor. A cost that is growing ever more costly each day.
Costly grace is taking risks in serving all the wrong people; costly grace is risking being cast out; costly grace asks us to love in a way that can only be done through Jesus. And it is costly because we live in a world that that has REDUCED the supply of love and is DRIVING UP its cost with every policy, every executive order, every twitter, and every snide, demeaning remark by those in power, aimed at the least of these, our brothers and sisters.
And, y'all, Jesus asks us to go down that costly path. That path of costly grace. That's in our baptismal vows. That's what we vow to do for Christ as Christians.
In 1945, the Nazis executed Dietrich Bonhoeffer. He was accused of being in one of the several plots to assassinate Hitler and was executed. There is some good evidence of this being the case, but there is also evidence that the Nazis just needed Bonhoeffer out of the way. Dictatorships are like that. Inconvenient people that shine God's light tend to disappear.
A friend who witnessed the execution wrote:
I saw Pastor Bonhoeffer... kneeling on the floor praying fervently to God. I was most deeply moved by the way this lovable man prayed, so devout and so certain that God heard his prayer. At the place of execution, he again said a short prayer and then climbed the few steps to the gallows, brave and composed...I have hardly ever seen a man die so entirely submissive to the will of God.
Y'all, we aren't asked to put it on the line like Bonhoeffer. At least not yet. But when you leave today, I want you to consider the value you place on God's grace. Will it be held to be cheap? Or will we each step up and pay the cost? Will we show up and serve, show up and suffer alongside those already suffering,,,at our hands and with our permission? Will we, for God's sake, show up?
Amen