The Downtown Presbyterian Church

Sermons

The Glory of Bottoming Out

Luke 6:17-26

Rev. Kenneth M. Locke

February 15, 2004

I’ve mentioned before that when I graduated from college I went straight into the Army and spent my first two years working in a Basic Training Company at Ft. Dix, NJ. Our job was to take brand new recruits and teach them the basics of soldiering: 1st aid, how to wear the uniform, what the different ranks were, how to throw a hand-grenade, how to shoot a rifle.

One of the things we found was it was surprisingly difficult to teach men how to shoot. The men all thought because they were men they instinctively knew how to shoot and nothing anyone could say ever made any difference. They thought they were self-sufficient and it usually took a trip to the rifle-range and making total fools of themselves and shattering their pride before they would be quiet and pay attention.

Women, on the other hand, never pretended to know how to shoot. Most of them didn’t know one end of the rifle from the other. Consequently, they paid attention, did what they were told, and most of them learned how to shoot pretty quickly and many of them were very good.

The women had nothing to lose and nothing to prove and learned how to shoot. The men had to let go of their pride, they had to bottom out, before they could learn.

One of the things I’m very proud of is Alcoholics Anonymous meets at our church twice a week. Anyone who’s ever done any work with alcoholics knows they have to get to the point where they know they can’t do it themselves, where they simply bottom out, before AA can help them.

One of things I’m very proud of is a couple of times a year Narcotics Anonymous meets at our church for a meeting and a dance. Anyone who’s ever done any work with drug addicts knows they have to bottom out before they can build back up.

I thought about this when I was listening to a colleague talk about this passage Monday afternoon. I meet with a group of other Presbyterian pastors a couple of times a month for lunch and Bible study. We brag about our congregations, share our problems, and hold each other accountable for what we’re doing in our preaching and our ministry. They’re a really good support group.

We were looking at this passage and one of them said, “You know, this is a sermon only an evangelist could preach.” We all looked at him like he had three eyes. “Think about it,” he said. “You couldn’t preach this in a regular congregation. Jesus isn’t offering them anything immediate and he’s telling most of them he has nothing for them.” And we all looked at it again and we had to agree.

If you’re poor, if you don’t have enough to eat or if you’re held down by brutal political and economic oppression, Jesus offers you the Kingdom of Heaven. Which is great but there’s no timeline for it. There’s no promise of more bread by supper or fair tax-laws next week.

And if you’re really committed to him things will only get worse. “Rejoice when they hate you and exclude you and revile you and defame you.” Hard to get excited about that, isn’t it? Making that attractive would be a hard-sell just about anywhere.

And if you have enough to eat and you’re able to live happily and you’re not the bottom rung on the power or food-chain ladder, Jesus has nothing for you. Don’t even bother. And if everybody loves you they’re probably just sucking up and flattering you.

A tough message, Jesus. How are you going to get the crowds to sit still for that one?

But this is not a one-shot, preach it and run sermon. In fact, Jesus is preaching for his brand new followers and he’s outlining for them what it means to be his followers.

He’s preached a little before but this is the first time he’s ever said what it means to be his disciple.

The word “disciple” itself means these people aren’t going away. The Greek word is mathaetaes and it literally means “learner” or “pupil.” It can also mean “apprentice.”

These folks are coming to Jesus specifically to learn more about him by following him, by being close to him.

And Jesus tells them so long as they have a scrap of self-sufficiency about them, as long as they have a shred of power, until they have shattered their pride, until they have nothing to lose and nothing to prove, until they have absolutely bottomed out, he has nothing for them. “Sorry guys, but being a disciple is not about glory and power and prestige. It’s not even about 3-hots-and-a-cot or a good meat-and-three. If you’re going to follow me you have to bottom out first.”

You know, this is a tough message for our culture, a culture of the land of the free, bravely relying on ourselves. We believe we can do anything. We can go to Lowes or Home Depot and learn how to refinish our bedroom or put in a new water heater all by ourselves. We can buy computer soft-ware that let’s us do our taxes ourselves. We can take financial seminars and learn how to do day-trading on the stock-market and manage our portfolios all by ourselves, cutting out the fat middleman, being self-sufficient.

Self-sufficiency, pulling ourselves up by our bootstraps, making things happen, going out there and getting it done and not letting anyone stand in our way: we prize that in our culture. We expect it at work, and at school, and at home. “Figure it out yourself, do it yourself, awwhhh, do you need help?”

But Jesus’ disciples are not rich, they’re not even comfortable. They’re not powerful. They’re not self-sufficient. Jesus’ followers are the poor, the hungry, the oppressed, those with nothing to lose and nothing to prove, the ones who have bottomed out.

Now I’m not advocating giving all our money to charity and sleeping under a bridge. Wealth can be used for great good. The power you and I have - and all of us here today, compared to much of the world, are very powerful people - power can be used in the service of God.

But being disciples means giving up any scrap, any sense of self-sufficiency. It means giving up any notion of making it without God. It means giving up the idea of leaving God out of our work, or our marriage, or how we relate to our children or our friends, or when we have an annual congregational meeting. We have to bottom out, we have to, to use a trite but very appropriate phrase, let go and let God.

That’s a tough sell, isn’t it? And yet people bought it. They believed it then and they are believing it now. Why did that call resonate with so many back then? Why does it resonate with so many today? What is the appeal of being a disciple? What is the appeal of being a Christian?

Let me tell you about something I read in the Reader’s Digest a couple of months ago. It was an article about a young man who had just graduated from High School. His parents were educated and well-off. They were strong social rights advocates, standing up for the poor, opposing oppression. They instilled a commitment to hard work and honesty in their children.

And they were absolutely devastated when their son started looking into joining one of the armed forces. They had never planned on this. But they went along with it. They met with the recruiters, they talked about options and what the branches could offer in terms of training and college tuition.

The last group they met were the Marines. The Marines told the young man and his parents everything that would be expected of him: how hard he would have to work, what the failure rate was, how he would have to put aside any thought of individuality and mold himself into what the Marines wanted him to be. At the end of the talk the boy’s mother asked what he would get.

“I beg your pardon, ma’am?” “What does he get?” “I don’t understand what you mean.” “What kind of college benefits does he get, what kind of assignment preferences does he get. What does he get for being a Marine?”

The recruiters simply said, “Ma’am, he gets to be a Marine.” For all his hard work and all his effort that was all he was going to get – to be a Marine.

What they did not say, and what the young man discovered for himself, because he is a Marine today, is being a Marine is being part of a long and proud tradition. Being a Marine is belonging to a very small, highly respected, elite force. Being a Marine is having esprit de corps and a sense of pride and strength lasting a lifetime.

Being a disciple, giving up self-sufficiency, embracing the radical call of Jesus even to the point of radical rejection by society, being a disciple does not “get” us an easier life, better jobs, wealth, power, any of the things the world cares about.

Being a disciple, as Jesus’ disciples found out then and as they are still finding out today, being a disciple means being part of a community that supports us, it means receiving a name by which we are saved, it means belonging to something that matters. Being a disciple means having faith: the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. Being a disciple means receiving rest. “Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

What do we gain by being a disciple? What do we get for all our hard work and dedication and self-sacrifice and social rejection? We get to be Christians, that’s what we get. And when you put it that way it’s very attractive indeed.

But remember, the way of the disciple does not belong to anyone who thinks they can do it themselves. The way of the disciple does not belong to anyone who thinks they can learn it on their own, or walk that long road all by their lonesome. The way of the disciple does not belong to anyone who insists on hanging on to a scrap of pride or self-sufficiency. We can’t follow the way of the disciple without first bottoming out. Before we can be Jesus’ students, we first have to bottom out.

May God lead us in that glorious way, Amen.