Luke’s Winged Ox: Our Offering is Sacrificial
(#3 in the “Why St. James?” series)
Whoever does not carry the cross
and follow me cannot be my disciple.
For which of you, intending to build a tower,
does not first sit down and estimate the cost,
to see whether he has enough to complete it?
(Luke 14:27-28)
A sermon by Siegfried S. Johnson on October 23, 2016
(Volume 6 Number 14)
St. James United Methodist Church, 321 Pleasant Valley Drive, Little Rock, AR 72212
Our October sermon series has been my own perspective in answering the question we’ve posed
in our stewardship emphasis --“Why St. James?” -- focusing your eyes on the striking art of our
chancel, particularly the images of the four gospels. During our 2000 sanctuary renovations
liturgical artist Becky Rogers Witsell designed the chancel art to include four rectangular
paintings representing the gospels: Matthew --the winged human face, Mark – the winged lion,
Luke – the winged ox, and John – the eagle.
To be sure, Becky didn’t come up with these symbols herself. These themes reach far back into
antiquity, at least to the 4th century. She did, however, design these particular expressions of that
ancient theme, coordinating with our architecture to add beautiful stylistic schemes incorporating
the gospels, Trinitarian theology, and the sacraments of the church.
We’ve opened each worship service in this series with Revelation 4 -- a vision of these four
images of Human, Lion, Ox, and Eagle -- combining our voices with the Living Creatures to
sing, as did they, “Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God Almighty!”
Matthew is represented as a Winged Man, a symbol of Jesus’ humanity very fitting, since he
opens with genealogy, stressing his incarnation. Why? To bring fallen humanity within reach,
to embrace human brokenness, and redemptively to suffer for our salvation.
Why St. James? Because in Jesus’ name we seek to bring within our reach a broken world. It is
this, our compassion on the broken, that puts wings of mercy on the human face.
Mark is represented as a Winged Lion. Mark doesn’t begin with genealogy but pounces out of
the gate like a lion, a symbol of quick, courageous movement. Throughout the gospel of Mark
Jesus is always on the move, multi-directional, back and forth responding to need and
opportunity. We considered Mark 5, a narrative sandwich in which Jesus is hustling to the next
big thing in a whole series of big things in his early ministry, but pauses to heal a woman who
seems more an interruption than the next big thing. Into her, healing energy flows.
Why St. James? We are a church on the move, multi-directional. We are a church having
accomplished plenty of big things, with yet more big things awaiting us. Yet we seek not to
neglect today’s need to change individual lives and to reshape individual futures for Christ.
Today, we come to Luke, the Winged Ox, but before we do I want to jump ahead to John, in
order to give you with a bird’s eye view of this four sermon series. The fourth gospel, John, is
represented by the eagle. If Matthew stressed the humanity of Jesus by beginning with
genealogy, John stresses his divinity, his opening words taking us to heaven, “In the beginning
was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God.”
In so many respects, John stands alone, not regarded as one of the synoptic gospels. I’m happy
that our consideration of John next Sunday coincides with Commitment Sunday , because we’ll
be talking about the church in its most natural definition, just as the eagle is the only symbol of
these four winged by nature. Here, in John, is our purest, most existential reason for being, our
offer of an eternal, heavenly hope.
Why St. James? Because we embrace that most basic idea of the hope we offer. Many are the
institutions to which we may give – charities, service organizations, schools, hospitals – which
touch broken humanity with compassion, making amazing differences in human lives. Many are
the organizations deserving support that are busy and multi-directional.
The church though, for me, is the eagle of them all, offering a hope not only for this world, but
for all eternity. At St. James we cherish this basic identity of the church and of our Lord as the
Way of salvation. Jesus cannot be conceived, as I heard Bishop Mueller say to his pastors
recently, as merely one of a panel of spiritual superstars. Our Christology must lift Jesus up as
the Son of God whose resurrection conquered death. Forgetting that, do we not willingly offer
up our uniqueness, striping the eagle of its wings?
Why St. James? Because we will hold fast to Christian uniqueness through a biblical Christology
understanding Christ as the Way of salvation . . . but that’s for next Sunday.
Today we focus on Luke, the Winged Ox. The ox clearly symbolizes sacrifice, thus my subtitle,
Our Offering is Sacrificial. Also, though, I think the ox is a symbol of strength, a strength
deriving from their being yoked together.
Why St. James? Because what comes before an Offering that is Sacrificial is a Vision is
Congregational. We yoke ourselves together in our vision, then are “All In” to support that
vision. Our leadership, from Senior Pastor to clergy to staff and lay servant leaders, in no way
acts unilaterally. Rather, our vision is communicated to our congregation and not undertaken
until there is an embracing of that vision by the congregation – in everything from our annual
budget approved at Church Conference, to major capital expenditures like new buildings or
campuses. Then do we commit ourselves to that vision with an Offering that is Sacrificial.
In 1985 I was a newly hired Administrator at First United Methodist Church of Ann Arbor,
Michigan, the job that helped put me through graduate studies in Hebrew language and history.
My office window looked across our back parking lot to First Baptist Church. When First
Baptist celebrated the arrival of their new Senior Pastor, Dr. Jitsuo Morikawa, the local
newspaper’s headline goofed. When the Ann Arbor News announced an Installation service the
new pastor read, The Insulation of Dr. Morikawa. My boss, Senior Pastor Dr. Donald Strobe,
sent the snafu to The Christian Century with a tongue-in-cheek suggestion that perhaps it was an
example of a “Freudian” slip, since we naturally prefer Insulation to Installation.
Two words: Insulation & Installation. There’s a sermon in there somewhere! Thinking about
the Ox, let me see if I can find it. A family was worshiping in the sanctuary when the smallest of
their children, growing drowsy, laid her head in her father’s lap. Seeing her daughter so gently
cushioned, mom leaned over and whispered to dad, “There, there, Henry, isn’t that sweet? You
always did want to be a pillar of the church.”
Two more words: Pillow & Pillar. The similarity of sound, despite the dissimilarity of meaning,
are precisely analogous to that between Insulation and Installation, the confusion of sound that
tripped up the Ann Arbor News headline writer. A pillow is a picture of Insulation, a cushion, a
buffer encasing within layers of protective softness. A pillar, on the other hand, is the idea of
Installation -- not safely tucked away, but exposed, vital to the infrastructure and, when acting in
concert with other pillars, working to hold everything together.
Insulation derives from the Latin word insula, which means “alone.” Think of the word insula
(“alone”) in our word, pen-insula. What’s a peninsula? A piece of land jutting out into the sea,
all alone, buffered on three sides by water. Aloneness is the idea. When the church welcomed
Dr. Morikawa, they didn’t intend to Insulate him, but to Install him. Installation is a word which
means (if I might stretch your patience for etymology), literally, “in the stall.”
Ah, now we’ve come to the Ox, you see! The word fits squarely into the domain of
domesticated animals, oxen not working alone, but “yoked” together, harnessed together for
strength to accomplish a task beyond what any one Ox, acting alone, could.
I love the story of a young couple boarding a horse-drawn carriage for an evening ride through
Memphis around the Peabody Hotel. The young lady asked the name of the horse, and the
carriage driver told them it was Jim. Moments later, as the carriage jerked to begin its
movement, the driver said, “Giddy-up, Jim. Giddy-up, Sue. Giddy-up, Sam. Giddy-up, Joe.”
“Mister,” the young lady laughed, “there’s only one horse.”
“Shhhh! You and I know that,” the driver whispered with a wink, “But if old Jim thought he was
the only one pulling this buggy, he’d never budge an inch.”
When Jesus said “Bear my cross,” is that not willingly being yoked to Christ? In fact, Jesus
does say, “Take my yoke upon you, for my yoke is easy and my burden is light . . .”
Two images: Take my yoke. Bear my cross. The yoke represents Strength and the cross
represents Sacrifice.
Do you sense the vulgarity of this image, wearing a device intended to harness the energies of
beasts of burden? When Jesus says “Take my yoke upon you,” he’s saying to a fashionconscious world, “Do you look good wearing wood?” I feel it that strength of yoked unity every
time I put on the stole, a yoke-like garment. It rests, in this moment, on me alone, yet it links me
to a community of clergy through space and through time.
In the midst of a rather interesting presidential election season, and because I’m certain you
haven’t had enough yet of debates and such, let me take you back to another presidential
election, fourteen election cycles ago. In 1960, 56 years ago, one of our political leaders urged
Americans to ask themselves that question, Do You Look Good Wearing Wood? Well, he asked
it slightly differently, but it was the same.
On one October day much like today, in that same 1985 when I was in Ann Arbor -- it was
October 14 to be precise -- I walked down the street only a few blocks from my office at First
United Methodist Church to the famous Michigan Union, where then Vice President George
Herbert Walker Bush (President Reagan was otherwise engaged) had come to speak on the steps
of the Michigan Union, standing on a pre-set, precise spot on the top step of the entrance. Why
the Michigan Union and why that precise spot? It was the occasion of the 25th anniversary of the
Peace Corps, an idea which began on that very spot. Senator John F. Kennedy’s 1960 speech is
recognized as the place where the Peace Corps was conceived. So last week, October 14 and at
that spot celebrated the 56th anniversary of the Peace Corps – at a rather odd hour – 2:00 a.m.
Why 2:00 a.m.? Because at precisely that moment in 1960 then Senator John F. Kennedy spoke
to a crowd of over 5,000 students and faculty waiting for his arrival. JFK had just finished the
third of four televised debates with Richard Nixon in New York and had flown to Ann Arbor to
begin campaigning in Michigan the next day, the election only three weeks away. It was an
unannounced visit, intended to be secret, to allow the senator to catch a few hours of sleep.
Word of his arrival leaked, however, and when he saw thousands of students gathered he felt he
had to speak. For a spontaneous three minutes he invited students to yoke their energies together
for the greater good of mankind. That medallion on the top step of the Michigan Union reads,
The Conception of the Peace Corps first mentioned on this spot, October 14, 1960.
He began, “I want to express my thanks to you, as a graduate of the Michigan of the East,
Harvard University.” There was laughter, and then, growing serious, he said, “How many of
you who are going to be doctors are willing to spend your days in Ghana? Technicians or
engineers, how many of you are willing to work in the Foreign Service and spend your lives
traveling around the world? On your willingness to do that . . . to contribute part of your life to
this country, I think will depend the answer whether a free society can compete. I think it can!
And I think Americans are willing to contribute . . . So, I come here tonight -- to go to bed! But I
also come here tonight to ask you join in the effort – this is the longest short speech I’ve ever
made, therefore, I’ll finish it! Let me say in conclusion, this University is not maintained by its
alumni or by the state merely to help its graduates have an economic advantage in the life
struggle. There is certainly a greater purpose . . .”
Senator Kennedy was asking students not to seek merely the Insulation of economic advantage,
but Installation -- to wear a yoke and bear a cross toward a greater purpose. That moment led
to the creation of the Peace Corps which, since then, has seen nearly 220,000 Americans yoke
themselves for service across 161 countries. This movement rippling out from the Michigan
Union’s impromptu speech led to the famous conclusion of his Inaugural Address a few months
later, which pointed again to that Greater Purpose, “And so, my fellow Americans, ask not what
your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country . . . what together we can do
for the freedom of man. Finally, whether you are citizens of America or citizens of the world,
ask of us here the same high standards of strength and sacrifice which we ask of you. With a
good conscience our only sure reward . . . let us go forth to lead the land we love, asking His
blessing and His help, but knowing that here on earth God's work must truly be our own.”
It was a Luke kind of message, if you ask me, a “be an ox” kind of message showing that the
pathway to strength is through sacrifice.
Let’s consider his words, “Ask of us here . . . (what) we ask of you.”
Last Sunday I asked something of you, explaining a unique challenge we face in 2017. Having
accomplished some big things through three capital campaigns, and with more next big things on
the horizon, in 2017 we will not seek any Capital Campaign level three year gift. Instead, we are
going to absorb the monthly mortgage into the operating budget ( $181,000 annually or $15K per
month) With a $3 million total operating budget, this payment will translate to roughly a 5%
increase in 2017.
I asked you to think 5%! It’s simple math. If your tithe would be $100 per month, would you
pray about giving $105 per month? That not much – a Big Mac meal at McDonalds, but that $5,
spread across our giving families with every $100, would help us make that mortgage payment
without harming our ongoing programs. If you normally give $1000 per month, would you pray
about give $1050? You see, it’s very simple math, the math of being yoked together and of
being sacrificial.
As JFK said, “ask of us, what we ask of you,” I want to assure you that your church leadership in
all our departments is seeking diligently to hold down increases for our 2017 budget as much as
possible.
That’s working together – Strength through Sacrifice, for a Greater Purpose that is more than a
quest for Insulation, but rather a commitment to be Installed.
How do you put wings on an Ox – by yoking them together for strength, and offering the
sacrifice necessary to the task ahead of us.