Luke 14:25-35

On the night of my high school graduation, nineteen long years ago, the guest speaker did something I shall never forget. Instead of delivering a lecture from behind the lectern, he moved to a table on stage and proceeded to cook a hot breakfast!

As the bacon and eggs began to sizzle, he asked a simple question: “Who gave more? The pig, or the hen?”

The hen was involved: she expended energy to lay the egg. But for bacon to cook that night, a pig offered total commitment: it gave its life. There’s a world of difference between involvement and commitment. As we look into the passage before us today, let me ask you two questions: As a follower of Jesus, are you committed or merely involved? As a member of your church, are you committed or merely involved?

As Luke tells it, the public ministry of Jesus begins in 4:14 and is largely associated with Galilee, the country region north of Jerusalem, until 9:50. At 9:51 we read, “When the days drew near for [Jesus] to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem,” and from there until 19:48 Luke has Jesus on his final, terminal journey to Jerusalem.

Our passage today relates some words Jesus speaks as he approaches Jerusalem, and as more and more people flock to see and hear this intriguing travelling teacher. Jesus’ ministry at this point is rather popular, especially in Galilee. He attracts people because of his radical teachings, his powerful miracles and his engaging persona. Others no doubt were attracted to the crowd rather than to Jesus. It is no different today.

Hearing the call

But Jesus is not just another crowd-pleaser. He has serious work to do. He is on a mission from God – quite literally. Jesus has come from heaven to save the world. He has come to teach the truth as it has never been taught before. He has come to recruit followers who will extend his ministry and form the nucleus of the first churches. And he is still recruiting followers today.

But the crowd is a crowd of individuals. They have various interests and motives, various spiritual allegiances, various degrees of knowledge and insight. And so Jesus turns, and challenges them to reflect on the nature of authentic discipleship, and on its supreme cost.

His opening words were sure to attract interest: “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple” (v 26).

This sets the standard for discipleship, and warns off would-be followers who might possess divided or mixed loyalties. To our ears these words may sound harsh, but Jesus is using a common figure of speech. As Michael Wilcock explains, “‘To love this and to hate that’ is a typical biblical way of expressing preference: ‘to love this rather than that’ . ‘Love for parents . is to be so far surpassed by love for [Jesus] that it will seem in comparison like hatred.”1

So when Jesus calls us to ‘hate’ our relatives, he calls us to ensure that our primary allegiance, our first priority, is to him rather than to family. And when he calls us to ‘hate’ our selves, he calls us to ensure that our primary sense of identity rests in being a follower of Jesus rather than being a member of a certain family or social group.

Then, echoing words he used earlier (in 9:23), Jesus says, “Whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple” (v 27). For Jesus, the idea of bearing a cross was central to one’s identity as his disciple. “If you want to follow me,” he seems to say, “get used to the weight and texture of a cross, to the taunts and cries of ridicule, to the agony of nails, to the smell of blood .” Those who carried crosses were usually under sentence of death and about to be killed in one of the most hideous methods of murder ever invented.

But the image Jesus discloses is one of continual cross-bearing, day after day, night after night, perpetually dragging the cross to the place of death. “Such persons would live . oblivious to the pursuit of noble status, finding no interest in securing one’s future via securing obligations from others or by stockpiling possessions, free to identify with Jesus in his dishonourable suffering.”2 It’s not the kind of advertising one would normally use in order to increase support for a cause, or to recruit followers.

But this is how Jesus describes the lifestyle of the authentic disciple: one who is unreservedly committed to the purpose of God and the mission of Jesus, a purpose and a mission “that resists, and is resisted by, the habits and patterns and powers of the larger world.”3

Assessing the risk

Jesus then tells two parables to reinforce this teaching: the first about a builder who wants to construct a tower (vv 28-30), and the second about a king who anticipates war with another king (vv 31-32).

Although the two parables differ, they share a number of common features, the most important of which are the imperative of establishing whether one’s existing resources are sufficient to meet the challenge, and the warning of a tragic outcome if available resources fall short.

During the week I saw Cold Mountain, the movie based on the excellent novel of the same name by Charles Frazier. Set in the 1860s, at the time of the American Civil war, it is not a movie for the squeamish – although there is a strong and tragic romance embedded in the storyline.

One of the most memorable scenes for me was on a Sunday when, just as a worship service is ending, the village gets news that war has been declared with the north. The young men of the village race outside, in celebration, shouting, “We’ve got a war! We’ve got a war!” They now had something noble to live for.

But had they counted the cost? No. And most of them died on the battle fields. I think it’s true to say that more soldiers died in the Civil War than in all the wars in which Americans fought in the twentieth century.

What is Jesus teaching in these two parables? He warns about the great cost of discipleship. Further, I believe he is alluding to the challenge of building a spiritual structure without relying on God, and the risk of fighting a spiritual battle in opposition to God.

A tower of my own making, no matter how flawless the plans or how rich I am in resources, will never reach heaven. An army under my command, however large and well equipped, will never match God’s might. There is only one way, the narrow way, the way of wisdom, the way of Jesus, the way of the cross.

In verse 33, in case there is someone in the crowd slow to understand, Jesus summarises all he has previously said: “So therefore, any one of you who does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple.”

Jesus does not require us all to become monks and nuns and coenobites and eremites and anchorites. But he does require us to renounce, or give up, anything that might hold us back from loving him whole-heartedly and serving him faithfully. And such is the grace and mercy of God that those who renounce all receive all: they possess Christ – or rather, he possesses them, and meets every need, and provides everything for them to enjoy (cf 1 Tim 6:17).

Living the life

Finally, in verses 34-35, Jesus relates another, very brief, parabolic story. At first reading it may not seem to fit with verses 25-33; in fact it is an important component of Jesus’ teaching on authentic discipleship.

But first, who ever heard of salt losing its saltiness? Can sodium chloride shake off its chemical nature? Certainly I have never come across salt that has lost its taste. So what did Jesus mean? Jesus may have meant either that the idea of salt losing its saltiness is absurd; or he may have referred to an apparent property of Palestinian salt that allows for the leaching away of the actual salt content of salt crystals. Either way, the meaning is clear: the distinctive saltiness of salt is what makes it what it is; take away the saltiness and it is useless and worthless.

“Those who attempt to journey with Jesus,” warns Joel Green, “without a thoroughgoing commitment to God’s purpose, an allegiance to God that relativizes all other relationships and social values, are not worthy of the designation of ‘disciple’.”4

This is an urgent message, not only for those crowds to whom Jesus turned that day in first-century Palestine, but for us today in Sydney, who also aspire or presume to follow Jesus.

This discipleship thing is serious business. How will you respond? Let me tell you how I respond. On one hand, the ideal that Jesus holds up seems too high, too exalted, too unreachable. I count the cost and opt for something less – which turns out to be something else entirely. I am lost. I am ruined. I am without hope.

On the other hand, the ideal that Jesus holds up is clear, and it has the ring of truth about it. It excites me and motivates me. It challenges and moves me to reach out and aspire to be and do something extraordinary. I believe Jesus is who he says he is. I believe he has done what the Bible says he has done. I believe the promise of his presence, and the presence of his power, are as real as his challenge to discipleship.

I believe Jesus is on the throne of heaven today, and he is still seeking faithful followers to form churches in order to fulfil his mission and extend his ministry, and I believe the local church is the hope of the world. And so, with the unknown hymn writer, I declare with confidence,

I have decided to follow Jesus

No turning back, no turning back.

Though none go with me, still I will follow

No turning back, no turning back.

Total commitment, no less. Will you join with me?

——————–

References

1. Michael Wilcock, The Message of Luke (Leicester: IVP, 1979) 147.

2. Joel B. Green, The Gospel of Luke (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1997) 565f.

3. Green, ibid., 372.

4. Green, ibid., 568.

E145 Copyright (c) 2004 Rod Benson. Unless otherwise noted, Scripture quotations are from The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2001). To talk with Rod about this message, email or write to P.O. Box 1790, MACQUARIE CENTRE 2113 AUSTRALIA. To subscribe, email with “subscribe-river” in the subject. To unsubscribe, type “unsubscribe-river” in the subject.