"Burn The Ships"

One day as I meditated upon the story of Elisha burning the plows as he began to follow Elijah, and Jesus telling the would-be disciple "No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the Kingdom of God." I eventually began to think of sports and Christianity … but in a different way.

I began to think of a man who was born into poverty, the grandson of German immigrants; the year was 1862. He never knew his father, who died the same year in a Civil War army camp in Patterson Missouri. Later, as a young child, his mother sent him and a brother to live in an orphanage.

He held a number of odd jobs until 1883, when he was discovered by Chicago White Stockings manager Cap Anson.

His name: Billy Sunday.

Sunday was an extraordinarily fast runner who joined the White Stockings and played professional baseball for eight years.

But one day in 1886, at the age of 24, the young ballplayer stopped by the Pacific Garden Mission in Chicago. There, a Mrs. Sarah Clarke led Sunday to Christ.

Sunday, who also coached baseball at Northwestern University, was traded to the Pittsburgh Pirates, where he stole a record 90 bases in 116 games in 1891.

With numbers like that, the bidding began:

The Philadelphia Phillies offered Sunday $400 a month.

Cincinnati countered with $500 a month.

The YMCA also made a bid: $83 a month … and Sunday took that job, as "secretary of the religious department."

Like Elisha, Sunday burned his plows and forged ahead, but the bidding continued.

In 1894, his former owners, the Pittsburgh Pirates, offered Sunday $2,000 a month.

But Sunday never looked back.

Instead of returning to the diamond, he joined evangelist J. Wilbur Chapman as an advance man for $40 a week.

And he eventually struck out on his own. Sunday's sensationalistic "fire and brimstone" preaching was incredibly popular. He traveled from town to town, holding revival meetings in temporary wooden tabernacles, summoning people to take that journey down "the sawdust trail" to the altar.

The ordained Presbyterian preacher conducted a 10-week campaign in New York during 1917, where more than $100,000 was given in "love offerings." … which he gave to the Red Cross and other World War I charities. During the campaign, more than 98,000 people came forward to accept Christ.

Later, Sunday was offered $1 million to be in the movies, but he again declined in order to continue the evangelistic ministry to which God had called him.

Billy Sunday the baseball player had burned his plows, crossed over the Jordan, and pressed on toward the prize that God had called him to win:

Souls … not baseball games.

Souls … not stolen base records.

Souls … not big paychecks.

Billy Sunday passed away after a heart attack in 1935 at the age of 73. His last sermon was preached at First Methodist Church in Mishawaka, Indiana, where 44 people responded to accept Christ.

Billy Sunday had a life of fame and fortune ahead of him, but instead he chose another path, forgetting what was past and pushing forward to win the prize of souls for God’s Kingdom.

Billy Sunday did not look back, for he knew that anyone who did was not fit for the Kingdom of God.

William Barclay notes that no one could say that Jesus lures followers under false pretences. "Jesus paid men the high compliment of pitching his demands so high that they can not be higher," Barclay says. "It may well be that we have done great hurt to the church … great hurt to the church … by letting people think that church membership need not make so very much difference.

"We ought to tell them that it should make all the difference in the world.

"We might have fewer people," he says, "but those we had would be really pledged to Christ."

We might have fewer people, but those we had would be really pledged to Christ.

To put it another way: They would be sold-out soldiers in the Army of the King.

In the reading from the 9^th chapter of Luke, Jesus tells the first would-be disciple to "Count the cost." Billy Sunday did, and decided the souls of men, women and children were well worth the price.

Jesus’ comments in Luke to that second would-be disciple are believed by some to be quite harsh. It would seem that the man simply wanted to bury his father.

Jesus says, "Let the dead bury the dead; you go and tell others the news of the Kingdom of God."

It is quite possible the man’s father wasn’t even dead, yet.

There was once a brilliant — and rich — young man who was offered a scholarship to a prestigious college. His answer: "I will take it after I have buried my father."

His father was only a little more than 40 years old. The young man was procrastinating … or maybe even rushing things a bit, depending upon your point of view.

Jesus wasn’t being harsh; Jesus wasn’t speaking without compassion. He was saying, "The time to act is now."

He was saying, "Seize the moment!"

You know, there is chronos time — the time we measure with a clock — and there is kairos time … God’s timing.

Jesus told the second man, ‘Now is the kairos time — God’s time — to claim God’s Kingdom.’ The man’s heart was stirred, and Jesus knew that if the moment passed the would-be disciple would be left behind. Jesus tells the man, in essence, "Burn the plows, or you will be left in a spiritually dead environment."

"Burn the plows!" — lest you, too, become spiritually dead.

When we are stirred by God’s Holy Spirit to act, we must act. If we fail, the kairos moment passes, never to be reclaimed.

I am reminded of a vacation my family took several years ago to Washington, D.C.

Congressman Jimmy Duncan was kind enough to give us a tour of the Capitol. We had lunch in the Congressional dining room; he even bought the kids milkshakes. But at one point on the tour, the congressman must have sensed something.

"I don’t always take people here," he said, as we approached a small room. "It’s the prayer chapel."

As we stood in the room, he explained that the chapel is used for prayer and Bible studies.

I sensed a Holy Moment as he paused, and the thought came to my mind, "We should pray." There was a pause … and no one spoke … and the congressman led us out of the chapel.

It was a kairos moment.

And I missed it.

Never to be reclaimed.

There is an even more recent one that continues to haunt me.

My grandmother, Ruth Trexler, died about two months ago in Richmond, Virginia. About a week prior, I was preparing to go to work and the impulse came, "Go see your grandmother."

I knew she wasn’t doing well; she was 92 and had been up and down for some time.

I told Donna and she said, "Go." And, so I did. My sister and I had a good weekend with her, but somehow I felt it would be the last. Still, I really didn’t know for sure: She was a tough ol’ gal and had recovered before.

But, three days after I left, she went to be with the Lord.

Traveling to Richmond for the funeral I was sad, but almost filled with pride. After all, I believed I had followed the leaning of the Holy Spirit to go visit my grandmother because God was preparing to take her home.

During the trip another conversation took place. My mother began to tell me that a mutual friend of about my age was struggling with substance abuse … again. Jack had been clean for about six years when he fell … and this time he fell hard.

He came from a wealthy family, and they had voted him off the board of directors of the family enterprises.

He had a wife and children, and he was now estranged from them and living in a hotel.

Several times he had threatened to kill himself.

"Maybe I’ll call or go see him when I get back," I said. "I don’t know what good it will do, but you never know."

We went to the funeral; and upon returning home the pace of life picked up. Our house had sold and we were moving to the new home in Knoxville; inquiries were being made as to whether I would consider serving a Maryville District church.

And then one morning while I was running e-mail at work, the note from my mom hit me like ice water: Jack … had taken his life ...

It was a missed kairos moment … never to be reclaimed.

Jesus tells would-be disciples that when our hearts are stirred we must act now … not later … not after our parents are dead … not after the next promotion at work … not even after the next preacher comes. As the song implies, when the Holy Spirit stirs, we have to go with Him … with Him … with Him .. all the way.

The third would-be disciple told Jesus, ‘Let me go home first and say goodbye.’ Jesus’s reply brings to mind the actions of Elisha when he was called as an apprentice prophet. Elisha went home, burned the plows and had a barbecue.

"No man who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is the right kind of man for the kingdom of God."

My Pa taught me that when gardening that you can not plow a straight furrow if you’re looking back over your shoulder. You have to look straight ahead, otherwise you miss the mark.

Burn the plow.

March forward.

Don’t look back.

As I pondered how important it is to leave the old life behind when Jesus makes us new, another baseball player came to mind. And despite his extraordinary exploits during the days of summer, the scene that first comes to mind is of a father sitting at the family dinner table watching the news. It is the early 1990s, and Major League Baseball announced that Darryl Strawberry had been suspended for 60 days after testing positive for cocaine. He was subsequently released by the San Francisco Giants.

In those days, baseball was taken very seriously in the Trexler household, and I can still remember something of the feeling around the table that night: Not so much shock, but disappointment. While Strawberry had faced problems before, this was something of the beginning of the end for the young man’s career.

We joke around our house that my son’s Strawberry rookie card dropped from about $75 to mere change nearly overnight.

But the eight-time All Star player would tell you that his life of horrors is no joke.

In the wake of spiraling personal and legal problems, Strawberry discovered in 1998 he had colon cancer. He continues to battle the disease while also battling his addictions.

In an interview with "60 Minutes," the 39-year-old Strawberry said, "Drinking and drugging, that was the big deep hole. … I was addicted to the women. I was addicted to the drinking. I was addicted to the drugs."

In late-March of 2001, Strawberry walked away from a Tampa rehabilitation center where he was serving house arrest. He had been drug free for five months.

Many people believe Strawberry wants to die. His most telling comment: "Life hasn't been worth living for me, that's the honest truth."

"Life hasn’t been worth living …"

Compare that with the story of Jimmy Streater.

It’s likely only the real Vol fans here remember Streater, a former Parade All-American and UT quarterback.

Streater played at Tennessee from 1976-79, but life took a turn for the worse after his brother Steve suffered a broken neck in an auto wreck.

Hear the words of columnist Michael White:

"Depression, and then drugs, followed for Jimmy. The drugs led to crime, the crime led to jail.

"Then there was a diagnosis of diabetes;

"After a life filled with turmoil, the now 42-year-old speaks to youth groups. He recalls his life of drugs and crime, and tries to be a living, breathing testimony.

"In ‘The Jimmy Streater Story,’ a book written by Chris Cawood in 1999, Streater speaks out about his life, where he has been, and where he is going.

"‘When bad things happen, we always have the temptation to look back and ask, "What if?" Streater writes. ‘Well, it's too late for that now. I have to look forward and ask, "What now?"

In his column, White concludes this: "If Streater could find a purpose, no doubt Strawberry can, too."

What could be the difference between a Billy Sunday or a Jimmy Streater, and a Darryl Strawberry?

What could possibly lead one man to stand firm, while another continues to return to the trough of sin?

You may say, "Well, Sunday and Streater were Christians."

But would it surprise you to know that Darryl Strawberry has professed faith in Christ?

I believe the difference lies in burning your plows:

Following Christ, and never looking back to the worldly things you left behind — be it money, jobs, the social life, or even family and friends.

Following Christ, and never looking back with fondness the sin you left behind — be it drugs, alcohol, illicit sex, or other vices.

Following Christ, and never looking back, never counting the cost, whatever it may be, of winning souls to Christ.

Words that are not very popular today.

But Jesus tells us that anything less than total commitment, anything less than keeping our eye on the prize, anything less than looking straight ahead, never looking back, leaves us unfit for Kingdom work.

Which brings to mind another ballplayer: Satchel Paige, who said, "Don’t look back … somebody might be gaining on you."

To which I would add … "And it might be the devil."

Spaniard Hernádo Cortés led an expedition to Mexico in 1519. He sailed from Cuba to land on the eastern tip of the Yucatan Peninsula with a tiny fleet of 11 ships. From there he proceeded inland to the capital city of the Aztec Empire.

Montezuma, the Aztec emperor, initially welcomed Cortés, whom many thought was a god. But Cortés imprisoned Montezuma, and by 1521 he had conquered the Aztecs.

Finding a better harbor a little north of San Juan, the Spaniards moved there and established a town at what is now Veracruz.

Cortés organized an independent government and to prevent desertions by any in his small force, Cortés did an extraordinary thing:

He burned the ships.

He burned the ships.

And so must we.

We must burn the ships that would carry us back to the land of slavery to sin from which were have been redeemed by the blood of Christ.

We must burn the ships that would leave us shipwrecked on an island of legalism, far from this land of grace.

We must burn the ships of envy, greed, bitterness, rage, anger slander, malice, all of those things that are part of the former way of life … the life we lived before we knew Christ.

We must burn the ships of self-centeredness and controlling spirits, and instead live in a land of servanthood to each other.

The Church … must … burn … the ships.

Of comfortable religion.

Of lukewarm faith.

Of fearing to following the move of the Holy Spirit.

A fear that denies our belief in a trustworthy God who loves His Church.

Hear the songwriter Steven Curtis Chapman’s words:

"In the spring of new beginnings

A searching heart set sail

Looking for a new life and a love that would not fail

On the shores of grace and mercy

We landed with great joy

But an enemy was waiting

To steal, kill and destroy

Quietly he whispers, ‘Go back to the life you knew’

But the one who led us here is saying

‘Burn the ships!

We’re here to stay

There’s no way we could go back now that we’ve come this far by faith

Burn the ships!

We’ve passed the point of no return

Our life is here, so let the ships burn.’

Let ... the ships ... burn.

Like Elisha following Elijah across the River Jordan, Jesus calls us to cross over, burning the plows, burning the ships, and leaving all behind for the sake of The Savior.

Do we have ships to burn?

Is there something in the past — or even the present — that is standing in the way of our relationship with Christ,

In our effectiveness for His kingdom?

You are invited to burn whatever ship that may be.

Whatever hinders our total commitment to Christ, we can leave it at the foot of the cross. You can come forward, or you can meet God where you are.

But now may be that kairos moment ... Don’t let it pass.

The Rev. Frank "Buzz" Trexler is managing editor at The Daily Times and pastor of Green Meadow United Methodist Church, wwwthemeadow.org. You can e-mail him at PastorBuzz@nxs.net.