He had the grace – Sermon, 23 June 2019
A tough Gospel reading today – one of those “hard sayings of Jesus”. Perhaps it was not shocking in the early centuries of Christianity when people often had to abandon families or were abandoned by families to follow Jesus. But today? Today, when family is always supposed to come first? When parents punch and kick each other on the field of their kids’ baseball games – as I’m sure you saw in the news a couple days ago?
No, today, we like our Christian message to be easy. God forbid you say anything that might drive people away! Many years ago Newsweek magazine – yes, Newsweek – wondered pointedly “whether a church which asks too little of its members will have the courage in the future to demand enough.” We ask little, and so we want God and Jesus Christ to ask little of us. But the words of Jesus remain, with their shock value.
By a curious coincidence I recently started reading about a man called Franz Jägerstätter and just as I was reading about him I found out that a film about him has been made by the American director, Terrence Malick. The film, A Hidden Life, was shown at Cannes film festival last month and will hopefully come to a theatre near you sometime later this year. The Los Angeles Times has called it “a spiritual call to arms.”
This Austrian peasant was executed by the Nazis on August 9, 1943, as an “enemy of the state.” When Hitler’s armies entered Austria in 1938 he was the only man in his village to vote against the Anschluss, meaning the annexation of Austria into Germany. He openly opposed the Nazi regime and finally refused to fight in Hitler’s army, for which he was arrested. People in his village thought he was a fanatic because of his excessive Bible reading. Yes, reading the Bible too much can give you unpopular ideas and indeed make you an enemy of the state.
Franz was a devout Catholic, a husband and father of three young daughters. He went to Mass every day and was the church’s sexton. He was a peasant, he was one of Christ’s little ones. But when the time of testing his faith came, he was a giant of faith. Even priests and a bishop advised him to stop opposing the Nazis for the sake of his wife and daughters. If you read any of the letters that he and his wife exchanged you have no doubt that this man was as loving a husband and father as anyone could ever be.
When he was reminded that most Catholics had gone to war for Hitler without any qualms of conscience, I love the response that Franz gave: He replied that clearly they “had not received the grace” to see things as they were. When told that the bishops themselves were not opposed to serving in Hitler’s army, his reply was the same, that “they had not received the grace” either.
I love that answer that Franz gave. He did not judge, he did elevate himself as more Christian, more faithful, more understanding of God’s commandments. He simply pointed to grace, not to any particular quality in himself. He was given grace to oppose Hitler. Others were not. And when one is given grace one has to answer to that grace. He was beheaded on August 9, 1943, and the Catholic Church in recent years has begun the process of declaring Franz Jägerstätter a saint, a martyr of the 20th century. A true follower of Christ. He gave up his family in order to die for Christ. But it was not an abandonment of his family. He loved his family to the end and beyond the end.
I return to that comment of Newsweek, which wondered whether “whether a church which asks too little of its members will have the courage in the future to demand enough.” We ask so little of each other and we get so little. No wonder people can just walk in and walk out. No wonder we have lost the ability to worship. But have we also lost the ability to receive grace? That’s what I want to remember about Franz Jägerstätter, those words he spoke about receiving grace. It’s all grace dear friends, all grace. Do no marvel at any words of Jesus, whether they are meant for you. You will receive grace to know. If you love Jesus with an open heart, you will receive grace and you will live in grace. And you will know what God asks of you.
The problem with today’s reading is not what Jesus said, but how we read the Gospel and Epistle readings that are chosen for this Sunday of All Saints. Not everyone is given grace to be a superhero of faith, or a martyr, or to leave family behind. Most of us are called to be saints in ordinary jobs, raising families, watching our children struggle with school and the challenges of peer pressure. Our ordinary lives can be filled with grace and can be beautiful for the Lord Jesus Christ.