Proper 24, Year C | Jeremiah 31:27-24; Psalm 119:97-104; II Timothy 3:14-4:5; Luke 18:1-8
St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church
October 19, 2025
the Rev. Jonathan Hanneman
To watch the full service, please visit this page (available for three weeks after the date of streaming).
“…as for you, continue in what you have learned and firmly believed, knowing from whom you learned it.” – II Timothy 3:14[1]
I’ve been struggling with distractions lately. Noise and news and chaos and worry and fear keep pulling my attention in so many directions it’s hard to know where to look. Even today’s readings are loaded with them. In the midst of devastation, Jeremiah points us toward a day of hope and change, but rather than seeking to embody those realities, we prefer to spend our energy predicting just when that specific day might come. The Psalmist finds comfort and wisdom in the Torah, yet instead of looking to the God behind the instructions the author exalts, we debate which of the terms we should think of as requirements and which we can toss aside. Paul encourages Timothy to focus on what he already knows to be real, imitating the examples of those under whom he’s apprenticed, faithfully moving forward step by step while trusting the guidance and clarity God’s living Breath provides; we in the modern world, however, prefer to analyze millennia-old molecules of that same breath and fight one another over the dogmas we build around them. And instead of mulling a lesson Luke explicitly states is about persistence in prayer, we prefer to dispute the moral quality of the characters in Jesus’ story.
With all the confusion and heartbreak modern society keeps feeding us, it’s natural to be distracted, burying ourselves in details we hope might provide some order, stability, or sense of control within an otherwise deranged world. But to move forward from where we find ourselves, it’s essential to look past the shifting illusions and delusions of the present to see where it is we want and need to go. We need to turn our attention to the bigger picture. And one of the big picture elements of the Christian life is what we call “discipleship.”
But it’s important to understand what exactly a disciple is. Because we think of education in terms of a modern classroom setting, we tend to imagine discipleship along the lines of a student at a desk, someone collecting information from a teacher and appearing competent so long as they have decent recall. A good student busies themself with gathering and memorizing information that may or may not be relevant to their individual life or interests with the goal of passing a test that then garners some level of praise and allows them to move toward the next level of information processing. And while that may be what it takes to be a good student in the present, that method of learning has little to do with discipleship.
For us, being a disciple looks far more like being an apprentice than simply an attentive pupil. Apprenticeship focuses on the practical, training a person to apply the knowledge they gather to their regular, everyday life. Instead of simply learning about a particular topic, an apprentice studies by copying their teacher. They observe what the teacher does, ask questions about the why’s and how’s of what they’re seeing, and then train themselves to accomplish the same task in a competent manner. Through years of observation and practice, they continue to learn and grow in their field until they themselves eventually reach a level of skill or mastery that leads others to seek them out as a teacher.
The difference is substantial. Our modern idea of being a student celebrates someone who can read about how a saw works and then clearly explain the theory behind friction and offset teeth. Apprenticeship—or discipleship, to use the New Testament term—honors the person who can cleanly and efficiently cut a board to the length and angle required for whatever function the wood needs to accomplish.
When Jesus is telling the story of the unjust judge[2] to his disciples, he isn’t just giving them information about what prayer is or even necessarily how it works. He’s showing them what they need to do when they pray—both to remain persistent and, like the widow, to pray through ongoing action. When Paul encourages Timothy to continue in the practices he learned and to which he vowed, he points to the human examples under whom Timothy trained. The Psalmist expresses gratitude for God’s words not simply because the information made them look smart but because of the practical value they’ve gained in how to live. Likewise, Jeremiah looks forward to a day when people no longer simply learn about God but have practiced to embody God’s actual nature and character to the point where kindness, generosity, and love have become habitual, written “on their hearts.”[3]
All of us are apprentices. The question is who or what we’re imitating: from whom are we learning to live? Modern American Christianity, so called, has, at its heart, minimal interest in following Jesus. We prefer to gather information about him and then congratulate ourselves as we file it away in our heads. We collect as many teachers as we can, provided they scratch our ears and tell us what we want to hear. We think of ourselves as devout servants of God so long as we’re able to impose our version of “God’s will” on those around us. But who are we actually emulating? Under which teacher have we been studying? Under whom do our actions demonstrate we continue to study?
The Christian life is challenging, but it isn’t nearly as difficult or complex as we try to make it. Walking God’s pathway is simple, provided we stop doing everything in our power to distract ourselves from what that pathway requires of us and calls us to do.
No one needs an advanced degree in dead languages or comparative cultural anthropology or the development of theological concepts throughout the ages to incarnate the big picture of what the Bible’s message represents. As Christians, we simply need to follow—not just learn about, but physically follow—the example Jesus lays out in the Gospels. Read his words. See how he behaved and how he treated people. Then go out and imitate those same things until they become instinct.
It’s all right there—the ideal model of how to live as God’s Image. Welcome the foreigner and the stranger. Treat the outcast with dignity. Use your power and authority to uplift those around you. Work for healing and reconciliation. Lift the burden of those oppressed; set the captive free from their bondage. Proclaim the Good News—not the lie that everyone has to maintain certain behaviors to continue to appease a vengeful and angry God but the news that God by nature is good and generous and kind and loving and compassionate. And then shape your life accordingly. Persist in prayer. Persist in doing good. Persist in caring for those around you. Persist in treating others with respect. Persist in kindness.
Jesus’ example doesn’t simply tell us but shows us “what is good, and what the Lord requires of you: only to do justice and to love goodness, and to walk modestly [before] your God.”[4]
Distractions today are intense; opposition grows stronger by the hour. But the Christian life is still straightforward. Don’t settle for being a student. Go beyond simply looking at Jesus’ footsteps. Measuring their length or counting the imprint of his toes isn’t particularly important. Stepping into them is. Follow the actual path until you learn the stride and movement. Walk in love; move forward with mercy! Imitate our Example; practice like an apprentice. Live like a disciple.
“…abide by what you have apprenticed and vowed, recognizing alongside whom you apprenticed.”[5]
[1] All Bible quotations are from the NRSVue unless otherwise noted.
[2] “Unjust” in this case refers to the judge having no external standard by which he holds himself or others—his rulings follow his whim rather than any established law or custom.
[3] Jeremiah 31:33
[4] Micah 6:8 | JPS (1985), edit mine
[5] II Timothy 3:14 | my translation