Whatever the Cost--September 8, 2025

Whatever the Cost--September 8, 2025

"Now large crowds were traveling with [Jesus], and he turned and said to them, “Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple. (Luke 14:25-27)

One of my personal theological rules of thumb goes like this: If my mental picture of Jesus is of someone who would never say or do anything controversial enough to get himself crucified, it is a pretty good sign that I have replaced the real Jesus with a caricature (or an idol) of my own making.  The real Jesus, after all, did get himself crucified, with not only the political powers and the religious leaders ultimately uniting against him, but also a mob of ordinary people who had been riled up, too.  We Christians may well confess that Jesus is Lord of all (and indeed we do), but we should also be honest that this same Lord of all did not ultimately win any popularity contests.  Passages like this one--which many of us heard in worship this past Sunday--are probably part of why.

In fact, it seems that part of Jesus' intention in these few verses is deliberately to alienate people--or, maybe to give the "large crowds" who had begun to follow him a bit of truth in advertising.  Jesus isn't trying to start an exclusive country-club type clique, but he does want to be clear about what it means to follow him as a disciple of a rabbi.  Jesus isn't kicking people out from belonging in his circle; but he is being honest with them about what it looks like to walk in his way of life--and he is prepared for the likelihood that a significant number of people will decide to walk away from Jesus.  In other words, Jesus isn't trying to push people out; rather, he is making his agenda and mission clear in anticipation that many of those who had been casual fans will decide at last to part company with Jesus.  Jesus is getting ready for us to reject him, not planning to reject us.

And in so many words, here's why we might just choose to reject Jesus: following him might cost us our comfortable routines, our family support, or our very lives.  Jesus wants us to be clear about that, so that we don't end up complaining "But you never told us that we might be disowned by our families for following you!" or "But I don't want to lose my reputation--I thought that being a Christian would make me MORE popular and respected, not less!"  And maybe most of all, Jesus doesn't want us to proceed under the illusion that following him will leave us unchanged.  Because he does intend to change us--he has it in mind to rearrange our hearts, our values, and our priorities.  And if that leads us to question things that we had been taught by our families, or to reject old mindsets that we had grown up with, or to leave behind old bigotries that "nobody had a problem with back in your grandparents' day!", well, Jesus wants us to be prepared when we have to make a choice.  You can imagine plenty of parents in the first century scowling in disapproval when would-be disciples told their families that they were joining up with an itinerant band of homeless followers of a rabbi who hung out with all the wrong people, provoked the religious leaders, and frequently had conversations with demons.  You can imagine how much worse the scorn would have been if you told your loved ones and closest friends that you thought this homeless rabbi who hung out with notorious sinners was the Son of God.

Jesus also seems to be aware of the political trouble that following him would cause for people, beyond the family squabbles or shame.  When Jesus insists that his disciples must "carry the cross and follow me," that was loaded language.  Crosses, after all, were literally instruments of capital punishment, and they were wielded by the occupying Roman Empire.  And it was the sort of execution they reserved for the criminals they saw as particularly subversive, particularly shameful, and particularly needing to make an example of.  In other words, Jesus isn't just saying, "Following me could cost you your life," generically. He is saying something more like, "If you follow me, you're lining up to be next for the firing squad."  That's how his words about carrying a cross would have hit the ears of his listeners.  This wasn't about the off-chance possibility of dying a hero's death like a soldier taking the enemy position or a firefighter running bravely into a burning building.  This was about knowing that the powers of the day were going to vilify the folks who followed Jesus and cast them as deviants, dangers to the public order, and disturbers of the peace.  Jesus is warning would-be followers ahead of time: "The powers are not going to like you if you follow me. They will make you out to be a threat and say you are an enemy of all that is good and noble. And that might cost you the support of your family, who don't want to be associated with troublemakers and agitators."  That's why Jesus warns that following him might force us to choose between his way or the support of our families--lots of families would rather disown a son or daughter rather than be associated with someone who had been strung up on a cross.  That's the thing: Jesus believes that following him will likely get us pushed out onto the margins and defamed as degenerates.  If we would rather keep our squeaky-clean image, our comfortable routines, and the respect of our family members, maybe we should look for a different rabbi--one who isn't bound for a Roman death-stake.

Of course, it is worth remembering that Jesus says all this as someone who has endured it all first.  Jesus knew what it was like to have his family think he was crazy and/or a source of shame to them.  He knew what it was like to have his hometown friends and neighbors turn on him and want to throw him off a cliff (see how Jesus' first sermon back in Nazareth went, as Luke recounts the story in Chapter 4 of his gospel).  Jesus knew what it was like to have the religious leaders accuse him of being in league with the devil, and what it was like to have the government brand him as an enemy of the state.  Jesus has been there, in all of those situations--and it's that Jesus who gives the warning, "Beware--if you follow me, it will cost you." He doesn't say it like the costs are dues we have to pay to him, but rather as someone who has paid dearly for his own choice to walk the way God has set him on. Jesus calls us to risk being marginalized, vilified, and disparaged as someone who has had all those things done to him first.  He speaks of counting the cost as someone who has already counted it himself, and decided it was worth paying.  He chose losing his reputation, his family support, and whatever comfortable life he could have had, in order to be faithful to each of us. He decided you were worth it.  You still are.

Ultimately, that's why any of us really follow Jesus.  It's not that we've found some loophole that gives us an easy route of discipleship.  It's not that we've found a way of avoiding the very real costs Jesus speaks of. And it's not that we've found some secret ninja moves that keep us from ever having to say or do anything that could possibly be controversial to our families and friends.  We follow Jesus, realizing that the costs are real and at some point are unavoidable, because we know that he also confronted those costs and paid them, choosing to lose family, friends, and reputation in order to rescue the likes of us. Whatever the costs are of following Jesus, they are worth it because he has loved us already to the point of paying them first.

And if they do push us out to the margins, call us mean names, or mock us for looking like "losers" and "weaklings" for loving the way Jesus loves, we'll have good company.  We'll discover that Jesus is there beside us, offering out his hands to us in love with the same scars he got from his own cross.

Lord Jesus, give us the courage to lose it all for the sake of following you--and finding we have been given all we need in you.