Sally A. Brown, Professor Emerita, Princeton Theological Seminary
In today’s text, Lk 14:25-33, Jesus turns to address the throngs who trail after him on his journey to Jerusalem. His strong language is a test of their loyalty and ours. “No one who does not hate [every family member] is not able to be my disciple!” “No one who does not carry his cross and follow me is able to be my disciple!” “If you cannot give up all your possessions, you cannot be my disciple!” No doubt some were confused; why speak of a cross? Won’t Rome and its methods soon be conquered?
Jesus’ harsh tone is less surprising when considered in light of preceding material—some of which the lectionary has skipped. When someone asks, “Will only a few be saved?” (13:23), a parable follows: The “owner of the house” (alluding to the Divine “householder”) will deny ever knowing some would-be guests who claim to have shared his table and heard his teaching. The plural “you” to whom Jesus refers could be religious leaders who have fawned over Jesus at times, but only so as to share the limelight: “There will be weeping and gnashing of teeth when you see Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and all the prophets entering the kingdom and you yourselves [emphatic] thrown out!” (v 28)
The two parables sandwiched between Jesus’ strident warnings (14:28-32) suggest that Jesus is confronting not the poor, but wealthy folks who are perhaps happy to ride the popular wave his journey has created, but, at heart, are uncommitted. The peasant class would identify neither with a man calculating the costs to complete a tower (vv 28-30), nor with a king who must consider seeking terms of peace if his weaker army cannot possibly best his strong opponent (vv 31-32). Everyone who follows must examine their own motives and loyalties; but the wealthy and powerful, in particular, must be disabused of the notion that simply showing up, taking no risks, makes them disciples.
Jesus dismisses, then and now, the notion that to follow him is a feel-good, low-risk pilgrimage to the holy city. Jesus demands a level of loyalty to the reign of God so thorough that we shall turn away from those we love when it is called for. The reign of God must be that one allegiance that reorders every other loyalty or obligation. If we are not ready to part with our possessions, we cannot follow.
The sermons we preach from this challenging text must take into account our congregants’ social and economic contexts. In the U. S., many well-to-do, active Christians see following Jesus as a serious commitment that shapes their intellectual and spiritual viewpoints but has limited material impact. Less prosperous Christians, on the other hand, may already embrace significant material sacrifice for the sake of others’ needs, yet find it difficult to place commitment to Jesus’ way above family ties. An analogy may sharpen what is at issue. Imagine a dedicated volunteer fire-fighter who has been summoned to fight a fast-moving fire threatening hundreds of homes. She or he will instantly put on fire-proof gear and dash from the house, even if it means prying away the clutching fingers of the spouse or young child who clings to their sleeve, pleading, “Don’t go!” The signs of our time are disturbing. Our commitment to Jesus’ path of self-sacrificing love may be severely tested sooner than we imagine. Will we risk our own safety to protect targeted strangers? Are we ready?