Now great crowds accompanied him, and he turned and said to them, “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple.” Luke 14:25-37
On the road again, and “great crowds” go along with him. Where did they sleep? What did they eat? Obviously he wasn’t multiplying loaves and fishes at every stop. It must have been a shifting crowd, like a great amoeba breaking off parts of itself and growing new parts, as people join up for the excitement and drop out when they get thirsty or tired or not much appears to be happening. There’s a rumor going around: he’s headed to Jerusalem. I’ll bet that’s where it starts. Going to be crowned there. Going to call down fire on the Roman garrison and the stuck-up political-priestly class.
He doesn’t seem to be going anywhere directly, though. If Jerusalem is the goal, why follow this zig-zaggy trail of one dusty insignificant village after another: west, then east, then northwest, and southwest . . . . What’s up with that? All it does is give more deadbeats and sinners an opportunity to join the parade. But look, he’s stopping. He’s speaking! Let’s hurry and catch what he has to say.
Messiah’s face appears stern, but also sad, especially when his eyes dwell on individuals. When they rest
on you, you can’t help but feel a little uncomfortable—well, a lot uncomfortable, as though he were peeling you like a grape and uncovering motivations hidden even to yourself. Or like he is seeing into your future, and it isn’t pretty. You reach him at mid-sentence:
“. . . only for a day? Or a week? Do any of you think you’ll follow to the end? Let me ask, are you willing to give up your father and mother, son and daughter, wife or husband? Are those who are dearest to you so distant in relation to me that you may as well hate them?
“In other words, what am I worth to you?
“You’d better not pledge to follow me until you know where I’m going.
“You’d better not promise me everything you have until you’ve heard everything ask.
“You’d better not build this tower or call up that army until you’ve counted the cost and calculated the risk.
“Because the building lot isn’t yours, neither the fight. You don’t build on me, or recruit me—I build, I recruit.”
Are we still listening? Because he’s still speaking. And the one thing we must never, never ask him is, What’s in this for me? The only question you should ask is,
Who is ‘me’?
For the first post in this series, go here.
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