Letting Go

And Jesus said to them, ‘Follow me, and I will make you fish for people.’ Matthew 4:19

The new academic year at Wartburg Theological Seminary is up and going, and I was privileged to preach at the opening worship service. Instead of preaching on following, I preached on leaving/letting go. I think the idea that there is good news in letting go is a good lesson for all of us: those of us starting a new year at seminary; and everyone, really, trying to continue to grow and learn in this complicated, challenging wonderful life we share with the other humans. See what you think.

Welcome to the new academic year at Wartburg Theological Seminary. It is a blessing, it is a joy, and it is a privilege to gather together here, as we wait with eager anticipation to see what God has in store for us, both individually and together, in the coming year. 

If you are like me, you have heard a few sermons on this gospel text, usually focused on the themes of following Jesus and fishing for people. And, these are good themes; these are great themes, even, for the opening worship service of a new year at a Lutheran seminary.

Just as Jesus called Simon Peter, Andrew, James and John, so has God called each and every one of us to Wartburg at this moment in the life of the church. And for each one of us, the call is the same: follow Jesus Christ, wherever he leads you. No more, and no less than that. So, following is a pretty great theme for a sermon.

However, the first act of the disciples is not following. Their first act is leaving. And it turns out that leaving is also a pretty great theme for a sermon—especially for the opening worship service of a new year at a Lutheran Seminary.

Before Jesus’ disciples could follow, they had to leave; before they could go forward, they had to let go. Before they could commit to this new venture, they had to go away from something else. So, as we prepare for this new year of our life together, let us reflect for a moment on the good news that might be lurking in the letting go. The question for each of us is: What is God asking you to let go of, to leave behind, as you begin—or continue—your seminary journey?

Now, I can imagine that some of you might be saying: Please, don’t talk to me about letting go; I know what it means to leave things behind to come to seminary. Some of you have left homes. Some of you have left successful careers, hometowns, family and friends. In one form or another, all of you have left the security of familiar nets for the unknowns of theological education. All of you know something about letting go.

Yet, the truth is, even more is going to be asked of you. Though you have already let go of so much, in order to fully answer the call to public ministry God has placed on your heart, you are going to have to let go of even more, not for the sake of letting go, but for the sake of letting in.

For example, you may have some long-held ideas about the meaning of certain Bible passages, but you may be asked to let those ideas go, so that new scholarly interpretations can be let in.

You may have some definite views about who God is, and how God acts in the world, but you may be invited to let those views go, so that different images and new language for God might be let in. You may have some clear preferences about the kind of ministry you envision for yourself, but friends, you may be encouraged to let those preferences go, so that new possibilities—great possibilities—can be let in.

You get the idea. Sometimes, the hardest things to leave behind in order to fully engage seminary education aren’t the things we can see and touch, they are the familiar perspectives that linger in the heart, and in the mind, and in the will.  Because while these comfortable frameworks and well-worn ways of engaging the world feel good in their ease, they can actually get in the way of our following Jesus with openness and a gospel imagination.

This is because these frameworks weigh us down and drag our steps: they block our ears to the voice of the Holy Spirit, and cause us to pre-determine God’s word. And when faced with the unfamiliar and the strange, they spur us to lead with judgment—“that’s wrong,” rather than curiosity—“tell me more.”

And ultimately, they harden our heart against the radical good news that you, your classmate, your professor—your neighbor, your friend, your enemy—are all equally forgiven, justified and made new in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, and Jesus Christ alone. Not because of your righteous convictions, ministry experience, wisdom, piety, or selflessness—no matter how good or well-intentioned. We stand equally as beggars before God, and we receive equally a lavish feast far exceeding expectations.

In many ways, saying yes to seminary is saying yes to being a pilgrim on the way, not with a map, but with a compass; it is saying yes to a journey of spiritual growth, yes to a rugged path of leaving behind, a lifetime of letting go in order to receive.

So, poised on the cusp of another academic year, grateful to the Holy Spirit who calls, gathers, enlightens and sanctifies each of us for the letting go and the letting in, hear again the counsel from Dr. Luther:

This life is not righteousness, but growth in righteousness, not health, but healing, not being but becoming, not rest but exercise. We are not yet what we shall be, but we are growing toward it, the process is not yet finished, but it is going on, this is not the end, but it is the road. All does not yet gleam in glory, but all is being purified.

We are on the way. Together. Welcome to this new year at Wartburg Theological Seminary. 

2 thoughts on “Letting Go

  1. This sermon was right on time for me as it came immediately after a discernment conversation I was having with another student right before chapel. You delivered valuable insight. Thank you!🙏

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