"Tough and Tender"

Luke 13:31-35

The passion of an unremitting love burns fiercely against the icy resistance of the object of its love. Will love win out? Will its flame cool at last in the face of unrelenting resistance? What will happen when burning love meets icy indifference?

Sounds like a makings of a great love story, doesn't it? Another great "Harlequin Romance!" But it's a much greater story than that. It's the world's greatest love story. And you heard it right here! It's the story of God's love for those whom he would call his own. We have come to the grand climax of that story, as the underlying theme of the story is finally and fully revealed and stated clearly by the protagonist. It is a theme of unrequited love. As he stands above his beloved city of Jerusalem on the Mount of Olives, he bares his heart to the one he loves: "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem ... how many times I would have gathered you as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you would not!" It's an old, old story - of God's love and his people's rejection. "You who kill your prophets - will you now also kill me too? It cannot be that a prophet perishes outside of Jerusalem." Only the ones you love can really kill you.

The scriptures say, "There is a way that seems right to a man, but the end of it is death." The end of this path is a cross upon which the Son of God is hung, paying the penalty for his children's waywardness. "O Jerusalem - you who kill your prophets ...." Soon enough comes the denouement, as the old story is repeated, and Christ is hung between two thieves, suspended in space between two poles. To one side of him is the pole of rejection, of cheap grace: "Save yourself, and us too!" It is life without a cross, without the necessity of a savior. On the other pole is the way of redemption. "Remember me when you come into your kingdom." Hope cries out to him through pain. Between the two hangs Jesus, the paradox of tough and tender, the paradigm of all who would speak for God, who would be prophet or priest, who would pick up their cross and follow. We hope, this morning, that we are that people. Hopefully, today we are those who hang in the middle with him, comforting and confronting the world with God's love.

Jesus speaks of his ministry to his beloved city in two ways this morning. As prophet, the one who proclaims God's judgment, and as her lover, "gathering her as a hen gathers her chicks under her wing." The two don't fit easily together, and often, in reality, we have a difficult time doing both. But both are necessary ministries to God's people. We also must be "tough and tender."

The job of the prophet is to speak God's word. That is never easy. Our human nature rebels against God's word, the Word that calls us to faith in him and him alone. We want to have our own way. We like God to be involved in our life, but not in control. We'd prefer that he keep himself to "matters of the heart." But God says that he is either God of all or not God at all. He informs us about the connection between our pockets being full but our hearts empty. He speaks to us about our bondage to sin, death and the devil. He forces us to put away all of the obfuscation with which we hide our sin, to open the blinds of our minds to the darkness in our heart, to see the true nature of our problem, its roots in our self-centeredness and self-worship. People don't like to hear these things, so preachers aren't too fond of mentioning them. But when people insist on building idols, God insists on tearing them down. He calls us to issue words of judgment: "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem ... how often I would have gathered you ... but you would not!"

Yet he also comes to us as a lover. Hebrews says, "For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need."

Here is a word that confronts but also comforts, because it does not come from someone who does not care, from someone who does not understand. It is the gentle judgment of a lover, of someone who cares infinitely for us - enough that he is willing to bear the cost of our sin himself. Martin Luther King called it being, "tough and tender" - having a tough mind, a tough hide, and a tender heart.

That is what we must also be, as his people, as the church that is also the body of Christ in the world. If we do not possess those qualities, we will fail as his church, as his presence in the world. Jesus had the toughness of mind to face sin - to look it square in the eye, and call it what it was. It may be that many of the great moral issues of our day are complex: abortion, poverty, war and peace, a growing global economy, genetic engineering, global warming, pollution. But we cannot avoid issues simply because they are complex, we cannot avoid them simply because they hit close to home, we cannot abdicate moral responsibility or leave the answers to the "experts." The church needs to always be in the front lines when it comes to matters of ethical or moral concern - rather than being the rear guard.

That doesn't mean that we always have the answers. But our place, as the church, is to at least be asking the right questions - the pertinent questions, sorting what is important from what is trivial, the good reasons from the lame excuses. No one else can do it like we can - it's often hard for the world to see the forest from the trees. But standing a bit apart from the world, with a higher perspective, trying to see things the way God sees them, we can obtain a little more clarity. But to see that way requires tough minds.

Jesus had a tough hide. Hebrews says, "He was in every way like us, only without sin." He was single-minded in his pursuit of us. Neither the ranting and ravings of the Pharisees, nor the appeals of his family and friends could dissuade him. Even the terrible knowledge of what awaited him in Jerusalem could not hold him back. He was relentless in his obedience to God's call. There is no quitting, no backing down, no retirement for those who follow Christ. Paul says that we must count ourselves dead if we are to follow him. We must be more concerned about serving him than we are for ourselves and our own hides. We cannot stop until the race is won. Luther said that every morning when we get up we should sign ourselves with the cross to remember who we belong to - to remember our baptism into his death. Only when we consider our own hopes, dreams and ambitions dead can we be fully his. Or as St. Francis put it, "It is only in death that we receive eternal life."

We must have tough minds, and tough hides ... but tender hearts. There are many with tough minds and tough hides who sit in the pews of churches, yet who are enemies of the Gospel. There are congregations of tough minds and tough hides that fail to be his body, because they do not have tender hearts. To proclaim God's judgment the way God does, first of all, you have to be willing to be crucified for the sake of the broken and sinful. As Thomas a' Kempis said, when you look at the broken, the sinful - even the dregs of humanity - you must also say to yourself before passing judgment, "I am no better."

"I am no better." God's judgment first judges the one who proclaims it. The preacher is the first casualty of his preaching. It was with weeping that Jeremiah proclaimed the destruction of Jerusalem. It was with bitter tears that Jesus proclaimed the destruction of his people. "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem ... how often would I have gathered you ...." We can't be wishy-washy sentimentalists. If we are to be effective as Christ's church, we have to have tough minds and tough hides. But we also have to love those whom he loves, wielding the sword of truth that both wounds and heals.

That's what in Alcoholics Anonymous they call, "tough love." When a loved one is faced with an addict, the only way to reclaim them is to face them with their sin, make them responsible, yet love them - love them enough to not be willing to let them continue to destroy themselves, to not continue in their sickness unchallenged. That what Christ calls his church to as well. We live in a world full of addicted people - people are addicted, not only to alcohol, drugs and sex, but also to money, to success, to family, to nation, to self. We are called upon by our Lord to love our world - to love it enough that we will not allow its addictions to go unchallenged, to call its sin into judgment, to call it to responsibility - so that it may be healed.

May we claim the cost of that discipleship. May we not fail our calling. May we be a church with tough minds, and tough hides, but tender hearts.