Psalm 135.1-14
OT Reading: Numbers 21.4-9
NT Reading: Luke 14. 27-33
If we regard Lent as an opportunity to think about giving things up, then we might fasten on the last verse of tonight’s New Testament reading: So therefore none of you can become my disciple if you do not renounce all your possessions. We need to de-clutter our lives in all sorts of ways if we are to focus on our calling to follow Jesus. Alternatively, if Lent is an opportunity to take something up, then we might fasten on the first verse: Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me, cannot be my disciple. What is the challenge I have been evading, the cross I have refused to carry, or perhaps carried reluctantly, with a deal of grumbling? Either way the cost of discipleship is enormous. How are we to respond to such extreme demands?
The people of Israel had to learn the hard way. The great patriarchs Abram, Isaac and Jacob had led their people from Ur to Canaan and on into Egypt, and Moses had led them out of slavery on the first stage of their return to the land which God had promised them, but when we caught up with them in tonight’s reading from the book of Numbers, they had been wandering for the better part of 40 years in the barren lands between Egypt and Canaan. The generation that had been brought up in slavery was dying. Moses’ sister Miriam had died in Kadesh. Aaron, his brother and spokesman, had died on Mount Hor, not so very far from their ultimate destination. And now Moses was leading them back towards the Red Sea in order to avoid confronting the hostile Edomites, and the people had started to grumble, not for the first time. It was not so long since Moses and Aaron had angrily caused water to gush from the rock at Meribah. Now there was again no water, and the manna was horrible. So they complained, and it got worse. Poisonous snakes everywhere. Finally they came to their senses, and begged Moses to intercede with the Lord God on their behalf. Moses was commanded to make a bronze snake, which he held aloft on a pole, and whoever would raise their eyes in trust to the bronze snake was healed. In his gospel John sees this as a prefiguring of the crucifixion (John 3.14). He cites Jesus’ own words; I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself (John 12.32), but in its original context the people’s response to the bronze serpent was more simply a sign that they were ready once again to put their trust in the leadership of God and of Moses his prophet.
The book of Numbers is a rich treasure-store of such amazing tales, as the people of Israel are dragged kicking and screaming towards that total reliance on God that they will need if they are to establish themselves in the land where God has been planning to settle them. The final sign, as the years of wandering come to an end, is the famous pantomime of Balaam’s ass. You will remember that the people of Israel had camped in Moabite territory, across the river Jordan from Jericho. They were by now a tough fighting force, and Balak, king of Moab, judges it necessary to resort to desperate measures to repel them. He sends messengers all the way to Babylon to summon the renowned wizard Balaam, promising him a handsome fee if he will come and pronounce a curse on the Israelites. Balaam ponders the messengers’ request overnight, but since he is told not to curse the Israelites, but rather to bless them, he refuses to go with the messengers. However, when they return with a more impressive delegation and probably the promise of a higher fee, God seems to tell Balaam to go with them, but to speak only the words which he will put in his mouth.
So Balaam saddles his ass and sets out. But the donkey’s path is famously barred by an angel. Whipped for refusing to go on, and threatened with murder for his continued obstinacy, the long-suffering donkey finally loses patience with Balaam and speaks, protesting that he has never refused to do his master’s bidding. When Balaam has the grace to acknowledge this, he too sees the angel. When he has roundly apologised to the donkey for being so being so impatient with him, he offers to turn around and go home, but he is again instructed to go ahead, albeit under the strictest instructions to say only what God tells him. When he finally comes to the court of King Balak, he is asked to curse the Israelites. Three thimes the question is put, and since this is a tale which would have been told rather than read, we should imagine the audience holding its breath as he replies, but each time Balaam pronounces God’s blessing. Even when the king pleads with him to say nothing at all if he cannot pronounce a curse, he insists on pronouncing at some length the blessing that will give Israel the confidence to go forward in battle, certain that God is with them and will bring them victory. Not very surprisingly, Balaam’s honesty costs him his fee, not to mention his expenses.
There is one more dramatic incident before the author of the book of Numbers can move on to record the battle order of the families that left Egypt and the tribes that entered the promised land. It’s a warning against intermarriage with unbelievers, and the worship of their gods. As with the grumbling that was punished with snakes, so too in this matter Israel’s disobedience is punished with a terrible plague, until Aaron’s grandson Phinehas spots an Israelite taking a Moabite woman to his tent, and rushes off to pin the pair of them to the ground with his spear, belly to belly. I did warn you. The book of Numbers is not for the squeamish!
But how do such tall tales and gory details help us to understand what Jesus is saying about the cost of discipleship? It took a long time for God’s people to reconcile the power of Almighty God with his deep compassion, and still longer to understand, that the obedience required of all God’s children – that unswerving obedience that led Jesus to the cross – needed to be the expression of our love, freely given, rather than our fear of punishment. And such love could not be expressed in acts of murderous summary judgment, but in steadfast non-violent commitment, whatever the cost.
From the very beginning, God has desired the best for his children, and that has always entailed costly obedience. That has not changed What has changed over the centuries is how we arrive at an understanding of God’s purpose for us – what we should take up or give up – and how we should bear witness in our dealings with others to the God whom we worship and love. In the primitive understanding which is reflected in the book of Numbers, the discipline is applied externally with the intervention of snakes and plagues, wizards and angels, and even a talking donkey. Much later on, the prophet Jeremiah will begin to speak of a covenant to be written not on tablets of stone handed down from on high, and enforced by fear, but a new covenant to be written on our hearts.
The internal discipline that Jesus requires of his followers is indeed written on our hearts, but that doesn’t make it any less demanding. His commands to hate our families and sell all our possessions may be examples of Semitic exaggeration. But we should still be very clear that following Jesus is not a soft option. It has to take priority over everything else in our lives. Giving something up for Lent, or indeed taking something up, may be the next step for us along the road of discipleship. We are not asked to take more than one step at a time, and as we set out, we cannot tell what the full cost will turn out to be. Jesus warns us that we should be prepared to renounce all that we have and all that we are. But if that enables us to fulfil our true destiny as children of God, it will be worth every last penny.