Imagine if today’s gospel were a scene in a Hollywood movie. Can’t you hear the theme music swell in the background? There’s the close-up of the handsome actor playing Jesus (anyone but Tom Cruise). In profile, we see the tightness of the square jaw set in grim determination; the eyes blazing with singleness of purpose. Then the camera pans out to a series of valleys and peaks, each one higher than the next. Finally, in the mist, we see it . . . Jerusalem.

This (melo)dramatic rendering is not so far-fetched. The simple sentence which begins today’s passage (and which I repeated at the top of this sermon) is one of the most significant in all the gospels, certainly in Luke’s gospel. Biblical scholars sometimes call it the "hinge" on which the rest of the gospel hangs.

Indeed, the next ten chapters – all the way to Luke 19, all the gospel lessons we’ll be reading until late October -- are a travel narrative of Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem.

Jerusalem – where Jesus meets his death and sacrifice.

Yes, we’ve seen this movie and know other things happen there too – He is risen just outside Jerusalem, ascended and it is there on Pentecost that the gift of the Holy Spirit is unleashed. But that’s getting ahead of our story. The emphasis on most of what we'll be reading is on preparing the disciples for Jesus' death. Even if your preacher fails to mention it often enough along the way, all of our gospel stories should be read in this context.

And today, at the beginning of the journey, Jesus minces no words in describing where we're going. It’s not a polite Emily Post invitation, is it? It’s more like that scene from one of my favorite movies (I have movies on the mind today!) -- All About Eve -- when Bette Davis, wearing that awesome black dress, comes into the party and says, "Fasten your seatbelts, it’s going to be a bumpy ride!"

The guy you’re following doesn’t even have a place to lay his head, warns Jesus. There's no time to say good-bye. And, oh yeah, even thinking about looking back makes you unfit!

But the real zinger comes in the middle. "Lord, let me first go and bury my father," asks a would-be follower. But Jesus says to him, "Let the dead bury the dead; you, go proclaim the kingdom of God."

This really smarts – especially this week as I am going through the sad privilege and heartbreak of accompanying someone I care about on the last leg of her long journey with ovarian cancer. I know many of you have been here with someone you love; and, if we're blessed, we'll have people who love us with us when our time comes. Just yesterday my friend was moved to hospice. I was the last one out of the condo, closing it up for her family.

You'd think this is the right thing to do. The loving thing to do. The Christian thing. But here's this gospel passage I've been struggling with all week -- "let the dead bury the dead," says Jesus -- even to the one who wants to pay respects to his own father.

But wait a minute. Isn't Jesus a nice Jewish boy who upholds the Ten Commandments, to honor your mother and your father? Wasn't he sent to incarnate God who is Love? Didn't he live, die and rise again to bring us eternal life?

Some Biblical scholars have an ingenious explanation for this difficult passage. They say maybe it was some kind of editorial addition so we don't have to take it quite so seriously.

I'd love that explanation . . . except that it seems like the wimpy way out. Since we get the same basic message three times in one passage -- and because it's such a pivotal passage -- I suspect we'd best deal with it.

So ... what if Jesus is using a big dose of hyperbole here to make his point? What if he's overly exaggerating things to convey just how big and life-changing a commitment it is to follow him? What if he's saying that being his disciple should be our top priority? That whatever we do, wherever we are, we do it for and with him and in his name?

And, by the way, all those excuses we're so good at coming up with? I'll do it when my kids are grown . . . or when I lose those ten pounds or . . . you know how it goes. Well, the gig's up. Jesus has work for us to do now and always, ready or not.

This week I came upon a quote about all this; it's from Neil Elliot in the People's Bible:

All that Jesus teaches about justice, about the right use of wealth, about prayer and steadfastness in his cause, he teaches as he leads his followers toward a final confrontation in Jerusalem.

Won't you join the journey?