The Good Fruit of Following Jesus

June 29, 2025 - The Third Sunday after Pentecost

My friends, I speak to you today in the name of one God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen. Please be seated.

Good morning, Epiphany. Last week, I started the sermon with a brief complaint about the hot weather and a broken AC unit... our AC is still down in the parish hall, but our repair guy says he’s coming this week, so... fingers crossed there. I had zero complaints about the weather yesterday though, it was one of the most beautiful days to be outside, and many of us were. The Cottage Walk was yesterday, and so was South Haven Pride. I had to drive to Grand Rapids for some ordinations, which I always love attending, so I was stuck in my car for a bit... but I drove with the windows down. It was just beautiful.

It was in this beautiful weather that I had to walk several blocks from my parking spot to the entrance to a packed Stanley Johnston Park yesterday for the Pride festival. Wearing my collar. I had just come from an ordination service, yes, but I also wanted to represent the church well at Pride, and so I brought no change of clothes. There were several moments when I wish that I had. The looks you get when you’re wearing the priestly uniform, especially one that gives Roman Catholic, they are varied, but they’re never without intent or opinion, and for many, I assume there comes a great deal of history. As I approached the entrance, I saw a group of the friendly Pride volunteers nudge each other and point my way, clearly wondering if I was going to cause trouble. They smiled, I smiled, I almost tripped on a road closed sign, we all laughed, and they let me through. I honestly didn’t feel safe representing the church until I had a few of our rainbow buttons on my shirt, and even then, the looks were consistent. “What is he doing here?” was often conveyed without words... and I don’t think that was just my imagination. Maybe it was.

Don’t get me wrong though, I don’t blame anyone for looking at a priest, especially at Pride and wondering what their motivations may be, and I purposely and intentionally invite looks and assumptions by wearing the collar here in town. I sometimes feel awkward shopping with my girls if I haven’t changed out of the collar yet; Catholic priests, as you know, have a tragically poor reputation when it comes to the care of young children. But it is my personal hope to work against that poor reputation for the sake of the church, for our sake here at Epiphany, to remind people of the holy, to represent the church well in our community, to listen well, and hopefully, ultimately, to show that not all priests are to be distrusted, not all churches refuse to love without limits.

I start the sermon with this story today not to justify myself, nor to seek your approval, but to relate that sometimes, as it was yesterday, that decision, to publicly identify as a Christian wherever I go, it is not an easy one, it is not a decision made lightly. You see, the word “Christian” has so much unhealthy and fully-deserved baggage in America in 2025. You know this. I’ve had some of you here at our church tell me that you don’t think of Epiphany as a church at all, that you don’t think of yourselves as Christian really, and that is mainly because of this baggage. I get it, really, I do. Since I’m your priest, you might expect that I want to change that for you, but I’m only here to invite you to do so. Some of you here have been uncomfortable with how much I’ve talked about “being the church” here at church in my first year as your priest. Thank you for sticking with me.

This passage, here in Luke, it’s short, and yet it really packs a punch. When read alongside the text in 1 Kings, as the lectionary presents it, it can be seen as painting Jesus in a really poor light, one where he shows little compassion for those who want to follow him. Let’s take a look. It starts with Jesus being rejected by a village of Samaritans, then with James and John asking Jesus... nonchalantly, I assume... “Do you want us to set their homes aflame with supernatural fire from heaven?” Yikes, disciples. Chill out. Eager to use violence in the face of rejection, these disciples known as the "Sons of Thunder" are immediately rebuked by Jesus... Jesus, for his part in the face of rejection, he just moves on. There’s a quick lesson there; Jesus is always loving, inviting, but never forcing his way on anyone not ready for it. He just leads the disciples on to the next village, where maybe they’ll have a receptive audience.

The disciple Peter gets a lot of flak for being sort of a bumbling disciple, never really understanding what Jesus was saying or doing. But this rebuking of James and John is an important narrative theme for Luke, the gospel writer; it is the third of four great scenes on this walk to Jerusalem illustrating that all the disciples simply don’t understand what they’re dealing with in Jesus, and maybe neither do we. In Luke 9, the disciples argue about who is the greatest among them, assuming that being a Christ-follower will give them great power. Jesus flips the script and says the least among them is greatest. Then they try to rebuke a man casting out demons because “he’s not one of us,” John says. Jesus tells them instead “whoever is not against you is for you.” And now, he refuses to let James and John use Elijah-style fire from heaven to turn the Samaritan village into a wasteland. Jesus tells them on this walk to Jerusalem that being a Christ follower has absolutely nothing to do with power, with exclusion, with violence. These are messages we need to hear today; we lay down our power, we include everybody in the kingdom, and we do it all with peace and abundant love. If all Christians could live this way, it would be easier to wear a collar at Pride, it would be easier to call ourselves Christians.

But this last of the four scenes in Luke 9, four times the disciples don’t understand what they’re signing up for, it’s a little bit harder for us to handle. Give up your power, include everybody, do it in love and without violence... those messages we think we can accept, though they may be difficult to live out. But then, three would-be disciples along the road want to follow Jesus, and Jesus tells them what following him might require. “I will follow you,” the first says... “Well, be ready to own nothing, not even a place to sleep,” Jesus replies. “I will follow you,” the second says. “Well, leave your dying father behind, let the dead bury their own dead,” Jesus replies. “I will follow you,” the third says. “Don’t even say goodbye to your loved ones, it’s time to go,” Jesus replies. Even Elijah let Elisha go kiss his parents goodbye before he started his work as a prophet. What could Jesus be thinking here? How heartless. What a lack of compassion. Unacceptable.

Alright, have a good day. We’ve read scripture that makes Jesus look like a jerk to people who say they love him, guess it’s time to wrap this whole church thing up.

No, of course not. Jesus has told the disciples in Luke 9 that following him will involve letting go of power, not seeking greatness, but humility; following him will involve a radical stance of inclusion, welcoming and being in relationship with all; following him will involve a refusal to use violence, living a life instead of abundant, unbelievable love. And now, Jesus is telling the would-be disciples that following him is going to be harder than even following Elijah, because following him will require everything of them, following Jesus will change absolutely everything.

The goal, the outcome, the result of the Christian life is not a pithy Sunday morning of sunshine and conversation and connection with the Spirit; it is a full-life transformation. Becoming a disciple of Jesus, a follower of Christ, it really does change everything. Jesus changes the way you view your home and your possessions. Jesus changes the way you view your job, your retirement. Jesus changes the way you view your free time, the things you enjoy and delight in. And yes, Jesus even changes the way you view family. This is the most jarring part of this passage for us reading it now, but it was even more jarring for first-century Jews who had strict religious obligations to care for their dead, to care for their loved ones, on top of what we might feel as common sense or common courtesy today. But Jesus wanted them, wants us to know today, that following him is not a part-time side project, it cannot be compartmentalized into the religious bubble we fill out on surveys or a few hours to start the week. Following Jesus changes absolutely everything.

Now, it's not for me to tell you this morning what those changes may look like for you. For Abbey and me, following Christ has changed how we view our money, how we view our time with our kids and our parents, how we view our work (obviously). But while it is different for everyone, simply know that following Christ is a demanding task. This Christian life is not an intellectual assent to creeds or beliefs nor a box checked nor a check dropped in the offering plate on occasion. It is a full life transformation.

That may seem daunting, or overwhelming, or like too great a call for us this morning. “Leave us alone preacher, we’re doing just fine.” But it’s only daunting or overwhelming until you realize what this transformed life of following Christ entails: not burying yourself in religion, not ending relationships, not homelessness, not being a jerk to your friends and family, not ghosting your loved ones. Thanks to Paul in our Galatians reading today, we know what our changed life as disciples looks like. I talked about it in last week’s sermon: the life of a Christ follower is marked by pursuit of the fruit of the Spirit.

Paul gives us some simple things to avoid, a list worthy of our consideration and not simple dismissal as if Paul simply doesn’t like having any fun. He writes these things for the Galatians, for our benefit, for the benefit of our loved ones, our relationships: Avoid fornication, impurity, immorality, idolatry, sorcery, enmities, strife, jealousy, anger, quarrels, dissensions, factions, envy, drunkenness, carousing, and things like these. Instead, live for and look for the fruit of the Spirit. Live lives of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.

If your life is marked by those fruits: love, joy, peace, etc., then you’re on the right path. That path may be hard to find, Jesus warns us, when we’re not following him closely, everything else steers us elsewhere, but it is a life truly worth living. This morning, I pray that we have the strength to seek his face, to set Christ as our one foundation, to follow him, wherever he may call us. Because that fully transformed life marked by the fruits of the Spirit will be a life we are all proud to share with others, wherever we may go.

Amen.