Sermon: The Larger Story of Discipleship and Taking Up Our Cross
I want to start this morning by asking a question. Actually, a number of questions. So, I’ll start right off: Who here today really enjoys reading?
Who enjoys reading short stories—you know, those quick stories where you can get into the plot pretty quickly? There are many authors who write wonderful short stories, among them Alice Munro, Ernest Hemingway, and Evelyn Waugh. But now another question: Who likes reading a longer, weightier novel? Oh, some of you like the challenge, I see! Among many classics are War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy, Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, and, of course, The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien.
Who follows and reads articles about something specific? Perhaps a topic that really interests you, or your long-time hobby? It’s great to see so many of you raising your hands.
I look forward to time spent reading, though I don’t do as much of it as I should. Especially when I look at the stack beside my desk that has reached the height of the desktop—and that’s only one stack! There is another stack on the bookcase where I might only be on chapter two. Reading is a great pleasure, but it is also a challenge. I like the feel of a physical book—the weight of it, the turning of the pages. To me, holding a book feels solid, immediate, and real, though there is nothing wrong with reading online or on a Kindle if that works for you.
I asked these questions because I saw a survey recently showing that reading rates have dropped significantly over recent years. But whether it is a short story that gets straight to the point or a longer novel that slowly unfolds, a good story should always hold together without falling apart into loose ends. When we read, we want the story to speak to us and stay with us long after we put the book down.
Reading Scripture in Context
You and I tend to read Scripture in short bites, like we do Sunday by Sunday at Mass. In addition to a Psalm, we hear three short lessons: one from the Old Testament, one from the New Testament, and one from the Gospels. These bite-sized pieces are detached from the complete story and the bigger picture. We often read the Bible on our own the same way—flipping to a quick snippet here and another section there. While that exposes us to different books, the overall continuity can easily be lost.
Today’s reading from Matthew 16 is one of those bites, but it makes much better sense when read in connection with what came immediately before it. Last Sunday, Simon the fisherman was given a new name: Peter, the Rock. Reading today’s passage immediately after last week’s reveals an abrupt change of direction in Jesus’ ministry.
I imagine a wry smile on the Gospel writer’s face as he wrote these passages down. Last week, in response to Peter’s heartfelt confession of faith, Jesus declared, “You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church.” But today, we hear a completely different tone from Jesus: “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me.”
Peter, the solid foundation stone for the community, has suddenly become the stumbling block getting in the way!
This turn in the story marks a decisive pivot. Jesus begins to show His disciples that He must go to Jerusalem, undergo great suffering at the hands of the elders, chief priests, and scribes, be killed, and on the third day be raised. From this point forward in our liturgical year, we are walking with Jesus and His disciples toward Jerusalem, the cross, and the resurrection.
Redefining “Taking Up Our Cross”
Today’s call to take up our cross and follow Christ is fundamentally about discipleship. Jesus carried His cross in service to all, which is a key framework for our own calling. Discipleship is a call to serve those around us—our immediate families, our local neighborhoods, our cities, and the broader world.
Unfortunately, we often lose sight of what this invitation actually means. “Bearing your cross” has become a popular idiom used by Christians and non-believers alike to describe putting up with something bad, enduring an unwanted burden, or suffering through an undeserved hardship like a chronic illness.
In my years of parish ministry, I have heard people call a demanding boss or a broken family relationship their “cross to bear.” Most tragically, I have heard people say that a painful, debilitating illness was a cross given to them by God.
A loving God would never do that. Bad things do not happen to us because God is trying to teach us a lesson. While we certainly gain maturity and wisdom through navigating life’s ups and downs, God does not inflict suffering on us to instruct us, nor are good things merely a transactional reward. Hardship and joy both happen in human life; that is simply reality.
Looking to Jesus helps us move past the idea that taking up our cross is about enduring a heavy, taxing, or painful penalty. Instead, the cross of discipleship is something we actively accept and pick up through faithful, committed living.
A Practical Portrait of Discipleship
If you want to know what this kind of active discipleship looks like, today’s reading from Romans 12 offers a wonderful guide. The apostle Paul outlines it clearly:
“Let love be genuine. Hate what is evil; hold fast to what is good. Love one another… Rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering, persevere in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints and extend hospitality to strangers. Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them. Rejoice with those who rejoice; weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with one another. Do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly. Do not claim to be wiser than you are… Do not repay anyone evil for evil, but take thought for what is noble in the sight of all. If it is possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all.”
Paul’s words provide a vivid description of what it means to carry our cross. When we strive to live out these values, we find ourselves truly on the road of discipleship.
I leave you with two simple invitations for the week ahead:
First, the next time you sit down to read Scripture, try reading whole chapters or entire books at once rather than quick snippets, so you can experience the integrity of the full story. Second, pray that your discipleship and mine may be faithful, active, and filled with the genuine love Paul describes.
Blessed be God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.