"Still another said, 'I will follow you, Lord; but first...'"
(Luke 9:61, NIV)
One man just wanted to bury his father. Another just wanted a chance to tell
his family good-bye. What would it hurt?
But when Jesus heard these requests, instead of offering a kind and personable
"Sure, go ahead; I'll wait here for you," He gave only strong words of rebuke.
"Let dead folks bury their own dead. If you put your hand on the plow, and
then look back, you're not fit for my service."
It almost makes you wonder what side of the bed Jesus woke up on that morning.
It's not like either of the men wanted to get in a last night of partying
before forsaking all to follow Him. They just wanted to be courteous to their
families, right?
In our self-help, 12-step world, we often try to coddle and pamper people
into the kingdom of God, but Jesus used a different approach. With the rich
young ruler, He said to sell everything and give it to the poor. To another,
He said to hate his mother and father. To the multitudes, He said to eat
His flesh and drink His blood (gross and symbolic, I know, but it's in there).
And to these hopeful followers, He dashed their hopes even before they began
their journeys.
If you start something, finish it. We've heard it so many times that it has
become one of our most popular business clichés. The Bible voices
the same idea in another way: "Count the cost."
Counting the cost is at the heart of discipleship. It's the part where we
discover if the committment we made is real. It's where we determine if our
public display was truly evidence of an inner calling. Discipleship is the
part of our walk where, unlike the rich young ruler, we willingly lay aside
all we have in order to be used by God for His purposes. No matter what.
Jesus knew that what was holding these men back was not just family ties.
It was a lack of faith, a lack of desire to abandon everything and follow
Him alone. He knew that their committment wouldn't make it past the first
night of sleeping on a pillow of stone or the first day of carrying a purse
full of nothing but air. He knew that (to put it in our modern terms) these
were people who were willing to walk the aisle, but never surrender their
lives.
Making a public profession of our faith in Christ is the easy part. Living
up to it—becoming a disciple—is the painful part that Christ uses
to shape us into the kind of Christians He wants us to be.
What has being a disciple cost you? Where are your treasures?