Along the Road

Luke 9:51-62

June 29, 2025

 

            I was a communications major in college. My focus was on radio and television, and I had an English Writing minor. That meant that when I entered the real world after graduation, I was qualified to be an assistant to the Public Relations Director for a talent and booking agency in Nashville. Being the assistant meant that I did the grunt work of the job. I answered phones and brought coffee to our clients when they came to the office. I collected headshots and other press items from other assistants to other artists and directors to keep our stock up-to-date. I ran errands. I took the CEO’s wife’s car to the shop. And it turned out that when that same wife wanted to make venison chili for the entire office, I was the one who had to locate the venison.

            It was not a glamorous job by any stretch of the imagination, but I learned a lot. I learned by doing and I learned by listening. Mainly I learned by listening to my boss. She was great. A hard worker. A tough boss. But we became good friends, and nobody could sell like she could. Now, technically, PR is not selling. Except that it is. You’re not selling a product like dish soap, but you are selling people on the talent you represent. One of our responsibilities was creating tour press for some of the artists we represented. That meant that we had to send out press releases and schedule interviews for the upcoming shows in the cities and towns where the talent was touring. So you’d have to reach out to newspapers and radio and tv stations. My boss was a master at creating amazing tour press. She could talk to anybody about anything. She could make the most mediocre album sound like it was destined to go platinum. I would listen to her do her pitch and just marvel. She was a PR dream come true, and she knew how to spin information just so and make it work, make it believable and exciting. I would listen to her and marvel because I did not have that talent. And at the risk of sounding irreverent and sacrilegious, neither did Jesus.

            If you are looking for a lesson in selling discipleship in a neat and happy package, do not turn to our passage from Luke’s gospel as guidance. Jesus’ approach to would-be disciples is a public relations nightmare. He is not interested in making following him sound palatable. He clearly does not want to market discipleship as fun or easy. He puts no spin on what it costs to follow. He just speaks the truth, the hard truth, the messy truth, and keeps on going.

            What we learn about discipleship from this passage is that if you want to follow Jesus, you better really think it through because nothing about it is going to be easy or tidy or nice. It’s going to require total commitment on our part. Even to the point of giving up our lives for the sake of following Jesus. 

            But are we ready to do that? Are we prepared to take that step, set off down that path, and be willing to give up everything, even our lives, to follow Jesus?

            That’s the question that Jesus has for the three would-be followers in our passage from Luke. The time for the cross has drawn near so Jesus has set his face toward Jerusalem. Jerusalem, the place where his last days would be lived out, where he would stand up to the powers and principalities, not with violence nor bloodshed but with love and the power that comes from being the suffering servant.

            Jesus has set his face. This is not just a point about the direction Jesus has chosen to take. Setting his face means that Jesus is going to Jerusalem no matter what. Jesus is fully aware of what waits for him in Jerusalem, but he has set his face and there is no looking back. This is not the road most people would choose willingly. I suspect that many of us would choose to go anywhere but Jerusalem if we could foresee what lies ahead. But that isn’t Jesus. Jesus knows that taking the road to Jerusalem will make all the difference.

            So, the scene is set, and Jesus is on his way. In the first part of this narrative Luke tells us that Jesus sends messengers ahead of him. They stop in a Samaritan village but are not welcomed there because of Jesus’ destination. The enmity between Jews and Samaritans was deep and wide, so I suspect that just the idea that Jesus was going to Jerusalem, the center of Judaism, was enough reason for the Samaritans to refuse him welcome. When James and John witness this they are outraged and ask Jesus if he wants them to rain down fire on the village.  But Jesus rebukes them, not the villagers like we might expect. Rejection is part and parcel of following Jesus, and to respond with anger to anyone who disagrees with you or rejects your message is to spend more energy on anger than on love. Therefore, there will be no raining down fire on villages.

            They travel on, and along the road the first of the would-be disciples approaches them and declares to Jesus, “I will follow you wherever you go.”

            Seeing as how Jesus’ disciples often made the decision to follow him in an instant, it is surprising that Jesus doesn’t immediately take this person up on his offer. But Jesus replies in an unexpected way, “Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” It’s as if Jesus is asking this person, “Are you sure about this? Are you really sure? Following me is not about comfort and stability. Following me means that you are not guaranteed even a pillow to lay your head on at night. Are you sure you want to follow?

            Then Jesus calls to another person, “Follow me.” This person tells Jesus that he must first go and bury his father. Jesus’ responses continue to surprise. “Let the dead bury their own dead, but as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God.”

            Scholars far smarter than me have been trying to work out the exact meaning of Jesus’ words about letting the dead bury the dead. Is this about the spiritual dead burying the physically dead? Or something else? But I’m not sure understanding his exact meaning is really the point. I think it is more about understanding his urgency. If you want to follow me, you must let go of everything that holds you here, even burying your father.

            Jesus approaches still another person who tells him that he will gladly follow him but first let him say goodbye to the loved ones back home. For the third time, Jesus responds with the unexpected, “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the Kingdom of God.”

            Again, Jesus seems to be telling these potential followers that they must let go of all that holds them where they are. What they consider priorities are really obstacles to following. What they think are responsibilities are really excuses to prevent them from following him.

            Think about the first person. He wants to follow. He’s eager to follow. He seeks discipleship with Jesus voluntarily. But Jesus issues him a stern warning. Even animals have a place to call home, but the Son of Man doesn’t. And the implication of this is that anyone who follows Jesus will suffer the same consequences. So are you ready to follow Jesus, to be without security, without home? Are you ready to face the trials and tribulations that will inevitably be encountered on the road of discipleship? Have you counted the cost?

            The next prospective disciples are also willing to follow Jesus, BUT. I will follow you, Jesus, but I have duties I must fulfill. But I have responsibilities I must take care of. But I have priorities. I have prior commitments. I have a long to-do list and very little checked off. However Jesus wants them to understand that discipleship, following him, is not something you put off until its convenient. It will never be convenient. You can’t check off discipleship on a list of tasks and think that it’s over and done. It is ongoing. It is all the time. It is not a priority, it must be your top priority.

            Following Jesus along this road comes with a cost. Have you counted the cost?

The Biblical scholars I’ve read agree that Jesus’ responses are harsh. They are, and it would be easy to try and explain this harshness away by saying that Jesus was using hyperbole, deliberate exaggeration to make his point. But that doesn’t do justice to Jesus’ words. Jesus’ face is set toward Jerusalem. He’s going. He has chosen this road, and he knows what lies ahead. He’s told the disciples, twice, what it means for him to be the Son of God. He will suffer. He will die. He will be raised again. Jesus refuses to put a pleasant PR spin on following him. Jesus knows what’s coming, so there is no time for waffling. There is no such thing as casual discipleship.   

There is no such thing as casual discipleship, and that should give us pause. Jesus wasn’t speaking in hyperbole. He wasn’t exaggerating to make a point. Discipleship is hard, uncomfortable, inconvenient, and it could cost you everything. There is no spin on this that can make it nice and tidy and easy. There is no way to sell this so that it is palatable and polite. Discipleship is hard. Following is hard. Choosing the road that Jesus chose is hard. I think Jesus really means what he is saying, and that gives me pause. That makes me uncomfortable, because I know that I do not follow him with this level of commitment. I like comfort. I enjoy having a soft place to lay my head. I am good at nesting. Please don’t ask me to lay aside my to-do list. Please don’t ask me to reprioritize. There are some costs that I am still not willing to count.

An acquaintance that I met on a study trip in seminary many years ago, joked with me about the serious signatures of most pastors. He wasn’t talking about our names. He was talking about the ways we end letters or emails. Like in my weekly emails to the church, I always sign off by writing, “Peace and blessings.” Other ministers will write, “In Christ,” or “Serving Christ,” or “In Christ’s holy name,” and so on and so on. But this person joked that when he became a full-fledged minister, he was going to sign off with “Serving him leisurely in my spare time.”

We both laughed at the irony of this, but looking back I wonder if that signature is truer than I care to admit. Do I serve leisurely? Is my commitment more on the spare time side and not on the this is my top priority side? Have I really counted the cost?

So, what is the good news in all this? What is the good news in this passage that gives us pause? What is the good news about following Jesus when it’s hard and uncomfortable and even scary? The good news is that we’re here. That we’re listening. That we keep on trying. We may fail and falter, but we come back. We continue along the road. I’m not trying to let us off the hook, but I am trying to trust in the power of grace. I trust that the call to follow continues to be offered. I trust that God’s love is bigger than my mistakes, my misgivings, and my missteps. And I trust that the Holy Spirit is still moving, still working, through me and in me, through us and in us. And that gives me hope. Hope that even when I mess up and fall away, Jesus still calls, Jesus still challenges, Jesus still wants us to follow. That is good news indeed. Thanks be to God.

Let all of God’s children say, “Alleluia.”

Amen.