"The How" | The Rev. Heidi Thorsen | September 3, 2023

“Those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” May I speak in the name of God who is to us Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

There’s something about today’s Gospel passage that feels appropriate for this time in the calendar year: the end of summer, and the beginning of fall. This, in my experience, is a season of striving. The summer was a little slower. Perhaps you went on vacation. Perhaps you had time to read a book, or two, or twenty. And then fall hits like a ton of bricks. Even if your life isn’t bound to the academic schedule, we all get a bit of it by osmosis here in the city of New Haven. Suddenly the streets are full again, and the lazy days of summer turn into the busy rush of life all around us.

In the midst of these transitions, I hear the words of today’s Gospel passage: “Those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” This verse is a paradox. Of course we want to find our lives. We want to discover abundant life– happiness, meaningful relationships, success. We want a sense of fulfillment with our lives. But if we try to get there on our own– if we try to save ourselves– then we will never get there. It’s only when we lose our lives, in Christ, that we are able to find them. It’s as if Jesus is saying: Don’t try so hard. Let go, and follow me.

Now letting go is not a spiritual practice that I excel at. I like to be in control. And there’s a part of me (not a part I’m proud of) that wishes I could be my own savior. Wouldn’t that be convenient, to not have to study ancient texts and try and wrap my head around who God is and who Jesus is, and how they relate to the Holy Spirit? Wouldn’t it be convenient if we could find spiritual wholeness all on our own, without a higher power?

As much as I would like life to be easy, I’ve found that all my attempts to save my life, on my own, have fallen short. I wonder if you could brainstorm with me, a few of the ways that we try to save our lives. In most of the examples I will give, I haven’t actually, rationally thought that these things would save my life– but I’ve certainly acted as if they might, in terms of the time and energy that I’ve invested in these things. For example:

I’ve tried to save my life through friendships and social connections– thinking that if I just surround myself with the “right” people, whatever that means, my life will be better.

I’ve tried to save myself through education– thinking that the right degree would open up doors; thinking that education could help me say the right thing at the right time to be a decent human being in a complicated world.

I’ve tried to save myself with the good old geographic cure– thinking that a new place would help me start over, as a new and improved version of me.

I’ve tried to save myself with money.

I’ve tried to save myself with to-do lists.

I’ve tried to save myself with exercise.

I’ve tried to save myself with binge watching television shows.

I’ve tried to save myself with shopping.

I’ve tried to save myself with work.

I’ve tried to save myself with so many things.

What are some of the things that you have done to try and save your life? And how well has that worked for you?

In reality, not all of these things that I mentioned are bad. Friendships aren’t bad. Education isn’t bad. And even the occasional tv marathon isn’t bad. The problem is that no single one of these things will fill the longing in our souls. They may be a piece of the puzzle– but on their own, these human attempts to save our lives do not add up to salvation.

Ultimately, I’ve come to believe that salvation is less about what we do, and more about how we do it. This is a theme that comes up a lot for me in my own spiritual journey. Salvation is less about curating our lives– putting together the most exciting fall schedule, or finding the best possible place to live, or getting the best possible job, or building the best friend group. Salvation is more about how we fully embody the lives that we already have. Salvation is about how we live. It is about giving up the illusion that we can do it all on our own, and instead recognizing that we are all, already, a part of something bigger than ourselves.

Today’s lectionary readings are all about the how. In today’s Gospel, notice that Jesus doesn’t give clear, step-by-step directions for the path to salvation. Instead, Jesus instructs his disciples to take on a different kind of attitude. He says, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” Jesus is asking his followers to move from self-centeredness to a broader perspective. And Jesus stands as an example that we can follow whenever we get stuck in our own egos. We can follow Jesus whenever we are so focused on our own problems and our own solutions that we lose sight of this bigger, interconnected body of Christ– which we are all a part of.

Our reading today from Romans is also about the how. In this passage, Paul is writing to a group of Christians in Rome to encourage them, as they seek to follow Jesus. Paul offers these words: “Let love be genuine; hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good; love one another with mutual affection; outdo one another in showing honor.” He goes on to say things like: Rejoice. Be patient. Extend hospitality. Bless the lives of those around you. Each of these actions is not so specific as to instruct the Romans to be in a particular place at a particular time. Instead, Paul’s guidance is more about how they move through their everyday lives. It is about an attitude of love, an attitude of forgiveness. In other words, it is about following Jesus, by living as Jesus lived every day of their lives: feeding those who are hungry, loving those who might be hard to love, and overcoming evil with good.

Finally, I invite us to turn to the words of the prophet Jeremiah. This passage begins with a human voice, and it is an angry voice: Jeremiah is speaking on behalf of the People of Israel, who have found themselves in exile in a foreign land, far away from the good things that God promised for them. The Israelites seem to be asking: what did we do wrong? What did we do to deserve this? Jeremiah says to the Lord, “Your words were found, and I ate them, and your words became to me a joy and the delight of my heart.” Yet despite his love for the God’s word, bad things have still happened. The Israelites are in exile and the pain is unceasing. Out of this place of anger Jeremiah says to God, “Truly, you are to me like a deceitful brook, like waters that fail.” Now granted, there is a lot to unpack around the idea that there must be some explanation for the bad things that happen in our lives. Sometimes bad things happen, not because we have done anything wrong, but because life is complicated and wild– sometimes there is no reason why. Nevertheless, it is important to hear what God’s response is to Jeremiah and the people of Israel. Note that God doesn’t cite any particular misstep along the way— except, perhaps idolatry. Yet even idolatry is not portrayed so much as a specific choice as it is a misguided way of thinking. What God asks for, in this passage, is a change of heart. The Lord says: “If you turn back, I will take you back, and you shall stand before me. If you utter what is precious, and not what is worthless, you shall serve as my mouth. It is they who will turn to you, not you who will turn to them [referring to the Babylonians who have kept the Israelites captive].” This advice from God is not an elaborate, step-by-step plan for escaping from Babylon. Rather, it is a reminder that how the Israelites approach their situation is everything. Once again this passage is all about the how– how the Israelites turn to God; how they can speak truth in the midst of power; how they can become an example to others. 

We humans tend to fixate on the what. We tend to boil our lives down to decisions that were made; or opportunities that were missed. In reality, our human flourishing is more about the how than the what. It’s more about how we participate in the world around us– whether we do so out of self-preservation and selfishness, or from a place of selfless love, wonder, and humility. That second way is the way of the cross– selfless love, wonder, and humility– and it is everything.

As we approach this fall season and a thousand decisions are laid before us, remember this: life isn’t just about what decisions you make; it’s about how you make them— about how you live. It’s about following Jesus with our heart, soul, and mind, recognizing that we are part of something bigger than ourselves. It’s about denying ourselves, taking up our cross, and following him.

Imagine what it would be like to find your life. To find your life, having always felt like it was out there somewhere, just a little out of reach. That searching, longing in our soul may never leave us, all our lives. But I hope that our longing will lead us back to God: the one who made us, the one who loves us, and the one who walks on this journey with us. To the one whose love saves us. Amen.