“Losing Your Life to Find It” Matthew 16:21-26

Brett Younger August 30, 2020 The Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost From that time on, Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and undergo great suffering at the hands of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him, saying, “God forbid it, Lord! This must never happen to you.” But he turned and said to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me. For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.” Then Jesus told his disciples, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it. For what will it profit them if they gain the whole world but forfeit their life? Or what will they give in return for their life?”

On August 13, James Altucher published an essay on LinkedIn titled, “New York City is Dead Forever. Here’s Why.” He writes that he used to love living in New York with its personalities and stories. He loved chess in the park and going to comedy clubs. Now, he writes, New York is completely dead. Office buildings are empty. Those office workers love Zoom and are not coming back. Nobody knows when the theaters will open. Restaurants are closing for good. Increased bandwidth is making remote learning, remote meetings, remote offices, remote performance, remote everything possible. New York City is dead forever. The column generated over a thousand comments, many from people saying how much they miss New York. We know that feeling. We have lost so much. To some degree, we have lost human touch and face- to-face interactions. Zoom is no substitute for sharing the same room. Someone suggested we stop calling it working from home and start calling it living at work. There is the loss of the camaraderie of a good office. Relationships are harder. Our masked visits to the grocery store are not uplifting social experiences. Cloth hides our faces and muffles our voices. Smiles are almost invisible. Children are losing much of the school experience— making friends as well as learning math. We are losing important events. Online graduations and weddings are better than nothing, but it is not the same. We have lost the trips we would have taken, and the trips we imagine we would have taken. We feel homesick—homesick for the home we cannot get back to, and homesick for the part of our family that is somewhere we have not been in too long. We are tired of baking bread and cleaning closets. We have learned that going to the gym is better than thirty minutes on an elliptical. We are surrounded by worry, frustration and disappointment. We are worried that someone we love may get sick or die. We are frustrated because we cannot make people do the things they should do to keep us all safe. We are disappointed because we thought we would be back to normal by now. The days bleed into weeks, and weeks into months. We feel a little guilty for feeling bad about our losses when we compare them to what others have lost—even though we know it is not helpful to measure levels of loss. We are going through a global moment of loss. In our country, thousands have died whose deaths could have been avoided. People have lost loved ones and not been able to have a funeral. We are carrying these losses, large and small. We are carrying them individually, but we are also carrying them at the same time. Many of us have a history of grief that piles up during hard times. Grief comes and past losses come back. You are sitting at your table and find yourself thinking about your father who died years ago. Tears run down your cheeks. You are not sure where that came from. We have days that start well, and then fall into despair. We like to solve problems, and we cannot fix this one. We like moving on to the next thing and the promise of the end keeps moving farther away. We feel tired because grief is exhausting. Just when we think the sad moments are getting farther apart, grief shows up again. There are so many losses—from the structure of our days to a sudden crash of what felt like solid careers, plans, and dreams. After a traumatic event, people often blame themselves. Even if it is a pandemic—which makes no sense. The sadness we feel is complicated. Therapists often have to convince patients that it is the situation that is crazy and not them (Pauline Boss). This situation is crazy. Part of the pain is the loss of the illusion of control. We thought we were in charge of our lives—and we are not. We used to get to decide where we would go and what we would do. We are grieving the end of what we thought was ours to keep. Jesus and the disciples are beginning to lose. The authorities have turned on them. The disciples are tired, worried, and afraid. They have problems they cannot fix. They do not know when the hard days are going to end. Jesus says, “Why don’t we take a few days off up at Caesarea Philippi?” Caesarea Philippi is a beach resort. Cool breezes come off the sea and mountains. The Romans turned it into a vacation spot. Just as they are starting to feel better, Jesus drops a bomb. He tells the disciples that when they get to Jerusalem, Jesus will be arrested, suffer and die. The disciples start thinking of ways to protect Jesus. If that is what is waiting in Jerusalem, why not head in the other direction? Run for the hills and hide until this thing blows over. Peter, his best friend, taps Jesus on the shoulder and motions for a word in private: “Jesus, what are you talking about? We don’t have to go looking for trouble. You don’t need to talk about dying.” Peter took Jesus aside privately, but Jesus lets Peter have it in front of his friends. He starts by calling Peter “Satan” and it goes downhill from there. “If any want to become my followers”—Jesus says to those who thought they were already following—“Let them deny themselves, take up their cross and follow me. Self-help is no help at all. Love is the way to find your true self. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it. What’s the point of having an easy life but losing yourself? What could you trade for your own soul? The people who know what it is to lose are the ones who learn what it means to truly win.” What is on the other side of this story for the disciples? How will they live after they know they are not in control? Jerry Seinfeld was not happy with James Altucher’s column on New York being dead forever. Seinfeld wrote, “So You Think New York Is Dead (It’s not)” (The New York Times, August 24, 2020). Admittedly, someone with a net worth of $950 million may not have much credibility speaking for the average New Yorker, but Jerry says he knew from his first day in New York—a day on which his car was towed—that New York was “the greatest place I’ve ever been in my life.” Seinfeld writes, “This is one of the toughest times we’ve had in quite a while, but one thing I know for sure: The last thing we need in the thick of so many challenges is some putz on LinkedIn whimpering, ‘Everyone’s gone! I want 2019 back!’” “Oh, shut up. Imagine being in a real war with this guy by your side. Wipe your tears and pull it together. He says, ‘Everyone’s gone for good.’ There’s some stupid thing in the article about “bandwidth” and how New York is over because everybody will ‘remote everything.’ Guess what: Everyone hates to do this. Everyone. Hates. You know why? There’s no energy. Energy, attitude and personality cannot be “remoted” through even the best fiber optic lines.” “That’s the whole reason many of us moved to New York in the first place. Real, live, inspiring human energy exists when we coagulate together in crazy places like New York City. Greatness is rare. And the true greatness that is New York City is beyond rare.” “You say New York will not bounce back this time. You will not bounce back. I hope you have a long, healthy run down there in your new pastel-filled life in Florida. I can’t think of a more fitting retribution for your fine article.” “This stupid virus will give up eventually. The same way you have. We’re going to keep going with New York City if that’s all right with you. And it will sure as hell be back. Because of all the real, tough New Yorkers who, unlike you, loved it and understood it, stayed and rebuilt it.” There is a point here that the putz on LinkedIn living in pastel Florida could miss. By living through hard days we can learn how to live the rest of our days. We live in a society that tells us to look out for ourselves at the expense of giving ourselves to a cause, giving ourselves in love, and giving ourselves to God. We have taken individualism to the extreme—and in the process we have lost hope. If Jesus had followed the disciples’ advice, he would not have died the way he did. He could have died a peaceful death in his old age in his bed, some place far from Jerusalem. In begging Jesus not to go to Jerusalem, his disciples are saying, “Jesus, you’re an inspirational teacher, but let’s keep this in perspective. Let’s skip the hard part.” They were shocked to learn that Jesus does not have self-improvement in mind. He has self-sacrifice in mind. This is not their agenda, and it is not ours either. Jesus’ brand of good news is bad news to anyone who wants an easy life. The life Jesus lives—caring for others—is out of step. Who wants to live with a constant tension between what we think of as happiness and what we think of as hard? It is hard to follow Christ when the world is filled with hurting people. It is hard to follow Christ with compassion for those whose opinions we find bankrupt when they feel the same way about our opinions. It is hard to follow Christ when everything in our culture pushes us to avoid what is hard. Do you remember Jesus saying something like this? “There are difficult times ahead. Soon we must all make the choice between what is right and what is easy.” That is not really from the Bible. It is Harry Potter, but it is still true. This pandemic might be transformative in ways we have not imagined. When something is illogical—like this virus—and offers no meaning, then we have to find meaning elsewhere. Every so often, we meet people who radiate joy—who seem to know why they were put on the earth. Their lives often follow a similar pattern. They get out of school, start a career, and begin achieving the success they thought they were meant to achieve. But then something happens, something that turns everything upside down—the loss of a marriage or a job or a child, and they realize they are not in control. They look around and find a less self-centered way of life. They embark on a new journey. Their lives move from self- centered to other-centered. They want the things that are truly worth wanting, not the things others tell them to want. They embrace a life of interdependence, not independence. They find their way to meaning, community, and faith. They live joyful, committed lives. Maybe when we are past this virus we will be closer to the people we go through this with, quicker to say I love you, and more willing to slow down to cherish moments. Some become too busy doing the work of kindness and justice to point their finger at other people for not being as good as they are. Wouldn’t it be something to be one of them? Losing your life to find it sounds like a paradox, but it is true. Ultimately what we most need is not optimism, but hope. What we most need is not happiness, but joy. What we most need is not the end of the pandemic, but the love of God. E.M. Forster said, “We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us.” God will help us give up on the easy life and learn to love.