Back when I studied sociology––

and especially when I did sociology of religion––

the point was consistently made that, above all else, religion serves a social function.

Traditionally, religion functions as a form of ‘social cement’––

that is, it provides identity and cohesion.

But religion also functions as a form of ‘social control’. 

As one sociologist puts it…

“by powerfully reinforcing crucial values and norms, religion helps to maintain social control over individual behaviour”.

As a result, religion is, inherently, conservative.

Sociologically-speaking, it reinforces and maintains the status quo of society.

And we have seen that throughout the history of Christendom.

We see it still.

At almost every turn, religion has been on the nay-saying side of social change and progress––

more often than not, leading the offensive.

In the debates about the Sunday trading of shops…

the legalising of voluntary assisted dying…

or the legalising of divorce, prostitution, abortion, and same-sex marriage… 

religion has played a major role.

And, indeed, it’s especially in the whole area of marriage and family… 

that we have particularly seen religion’s influence…

such that ‘religion’ and ‘family values’ have become overlapping…

or even synonymous concepts.

 

But then we get this morning’s reading from Luke’s Gospel.

Here, the demands that Jesus places on would-be followers… 

seem to undermine the whole concept of ‘family values’…

and make a mockery of their so-called Christian underpinnings.

Indeed, Jesus’ words seem particularly harsh and insensitive––

especially when understood within the context of Hebrew burial practices.

When Israelites died, their family placed their bodies in an above-ground rock tomb. 

Then, a year later… 

after the body had decomposed, the family collected the bones…

and then buried those. 

Thus, Jesus is literally saying here: 

“let those who have died attend to the final burial of their loved ones”.

In other words… 

Jesus seems to be saying that following him means forgoing family obligations––

indeed, forgoing the most sacred obligation in the ancient world.

Jesus seems to be saying that, following him, calls for a radical rejection…

and renunciation of fundamental family values.

Is that what’s going on here?

 

Yes… and no.

 

Two of the responses that Jesus makes to would-be followers here––

about having “nowhere to lay his head”…

and letting the dead “bury their own dead”––

are also found in Matthew’s Gospel…

and they probably do have their origin with the actual, historical Jesus.

And, yes, as such, the call was to a radical renunciation of family…

and to the adoption of the life of an itinerant preacher or monk. 

But that wasn’t the situation when the author of Luke’s Gospel adapted and combined these sayings…

and then addressed them to his settled, sedentary, and sophisticated urban community––

more than fifty years after Jesus lived.

Following Jesus, in the author’s time, did not mean leaving home or family.

Although some of them––

perhaps even many of them––

may have been ostracised by their families for following Jesus.

So, in part, these sayings seem to be addressing that particular scenario.

In other words, the sub-text is…

follow Jesus, and you may be rejected by your family.

 

But there’s more to it than that.

 

Part of the clue is to be found in the material that the author specifically adds––

namely, the vignette of Jesus’ interaction with his disciples at the beginning…

and the one of Jesus’ interaction with the final would-be disciple at the end.

Let’s look at the last one first.

“‘I will follow you, Lord; but let me first say farewell to those at my home’. Jesus said to him, ‘No one who puts a hand to the plough and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God’”.

Here we have an intentional and unmistakable echo of Elijah’s call to Elisha.

In that particular story, when Elisha was ploughing and Elijah called him to follow…

Elisha asked for an opportunity to say farewell to his parents––

a request that Elijah granted.

Here, however, the author casts Jesus as another Elijah—

but a stricter one.

Now, if that vignette forms one bookend… 

then the opening vignette forms another.

There–– 

following Jesus’ rejection by the people of Samaria––

James and John ask: 

“Lord, do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?” 

Here we have another unmistakable echo of Elijah who, we are told––

following the apostasy of the king of Samaria––

called down fire from heaven to consume the king’s men.

Once again, the author casts Jesus as another Elijah.

And yet, in the refusal of Jesus to act with judgment and vengeance…

he casts him as a very different Elijah.

 

“Now that’s interesting”… 

I hear you say…

“but so what?”

 

Well, taken as a literary whole…

the way that the author has composed and arranged this series of vignettes… 

is meant to invite his readers––

us included––

to consider the nature of the one whom we are called to follow…

namely…

a prophet in the mould of Elijah;

that is, a prophet who repeatedly confronted the powers-that-be;

a prophet who consistently got into trouble for doing what was right.

And, in being called to follow this new Elijah…

the author wants us to be aware of what it involves and what it will cost.

That seems to be his point.

Standing up for what is right––

proclaiming justice in the face of injustice and liberty in the face of oppression;

opposing those who have power but who are using it tyrannically;

standing against apathetic acquiescence and going against the popular view;

advocating causes that are, seemingly, socially radical or deviant…

or not culturally condoned––

comes at a cost.

But, as followers of Jesus, that is what we are called to do.

We’re called to stand up for what is right.

We’re called to work for justice and freedom.

We’re called to confront and oppose evil.

We’re called to offer advocacy and support.

And we’re called to critique those aspects of our culture…

our society…

our system of government––

indeed, our very way of life––

which harm or diminish the dignity and worth of any of God’s children.

That is what it means to be a follower of Jesus.

 

So, what this reading reinforces for us––

despite the way that the church has functioned for much of its life…

and the way that it continues to function so often––

is that Christianity cannot be…

and must not be…

an instrument of social cohesion and social control.

Christianity––

if it is to be true to the spirit of Jesus––

cannot champion social conservatism…

nor, by extension, political conservatism…

insofar as the two overlap.

Following Jesus is not about advocating ‘family values’;

nor is it about reinforcing the social status quo;

nor is it about assuming the right to pass judgment on any of God’s children––

like James and John sought to do in this story.

We are called to put aside our cultural baggage…

our inherited values…

and our ideologies…

insofar as they get in the way of following Jesus.

We are called to challenge, and to advocate for change.

We are called to be a prophetic voice––

despite the way that society tends to treat its prophets.