If it’s not expected, is it even allowed?

Luke 14.25-29, 33

Now large crowds were traveling with him; 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. For which of you, intending to build a tower, does not first sit down and estimate the cost, to see whether he has enough to complete it? Otherwise, when he has laid a foundation and is not able to finish, all who see it will begin to ridicule him. So therefore, none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions.”

In Luke 12.33 when Jesus says to sell our possessions he was speaking to his disciples. He was apparently a bit softer with the crowds: in 12.4-21 he warns them to not be afraid and to not amass wealth, but stops short of telling them to sell everything, as he does to his disciples.

When we get to chapter 14 Jesus’ demands are more harsh, and they are addressed to the crowds in general, not only the disciples. Yes, Jesus is talking to those who want to be his disciples, but the fact that he speaks to the crowd in general means he intends them to understand the demands of discipleship, and the fact that he warns them to “count the cost” is a clear insinuation that they should remain part of the crowd unless they are ready to give up everything.

The reason this is important is that our church leaders today, virtually unanimously (at least I can’t find anyone), would say that Jesus has not placed this expectation upon the church. N.T. Wright, for instance, says these words were intended for the people of Israel, as a warning about the awful judgment hanging over their heads. Hagner’s commentary on the parallel passage in Matthew 10.37-39 is uselessly vague. He says that the family cannot be given precedence over our relationship to Jesus, but then says that “life” refers to a person finding meaningful existence and fulfillment, not a literal risking of one’s life, so apparently he does not regard the demand as being unnecessarily intrusive into a person’s personal plans on how he wants to live his life. In Hagner’s explanation of the rich young ruler in Matt. 19.23-26 he says that when rich people learn how “to live with riches in a way that does not compromise their full, undivided commitment to Jesus” it is tantamount to giving it all away. And so we know Hagner’s view of things: that so long as a person has a good heart he satisfies the demand.

R.T France’s commentary on the Matthew passage is not objectionable, but he nowhere says a person is expected to do it, saying only that the disciple puts Jesus before his own natural inclinations and interests. Leon Morris, in his commentary on Luke 14, starts well but then disappoints when he says that the disciple must reckon all lost for his sake, once again allowing people an easy out. John Nolland does well in his commentary on Luke 14, saying that the disciple must be disencumbered from whatever would interfere with following Christ, but at the end says that to “give up everything” does not mean a literal disposal of one’s assets. Apparently those things that would hold us back are not any of the things Christ mentioned.

And so the general tenor of the commentators is that the mainline Christian is in accord with Christ’s expectations and only those who are consumed with riches need some adjustment. The problem, of course, is that Jesus never intended for the crowd to be content. His words were designed to leave them in discontent—even to the point of thinking they were excluded. Jesus spoke to winnow the wheat from the chaff. Our modern belief that virtually all believers are wheat goes against Jesus’ estimation of the crowd here (they were the people of God!), and certainly against any unbiased observer of the church today.

But most crucially, the commentators fail to provide any guidance to the person who truly wants to follow Christ, and that is my complaint here: that by saying we are mostly all good enough, and there are only a few on the fringe who need to change how they behave, then we remove these teachings from the marching orders of those who would do it, because now they left with no instruction or example. And worse: if they do it, they are regarded with a dim eye, because they are doing something that Christ doesn’t expect—or probably even allow. It’s a serious issue. The commentators are the seminary professors. People who go into the pastorate are taught by these experts, read their books, and preach from sermons that tell their people what they have been taught. It is a closed system. For someone to go against this teaching is virtually impossible. Not only will you not get encouragement to do it, you will probably be discouraged, because you are going against the best thinkers.

Back to Wright. This is his explanation:

Israel must stop clinging to family identity and ancestral possessions, otherwise she will be like someone building a tower but unable to finish—or, in a warning whose metaphor may be a bit too close for comfort, she will be like a king with a small army going to war against someone with a large one. At the moment, the salt of the earth is losing its taste, and when that happens it can only be thrown away. The characteristic phrase ‘if you have ears, then hear’ is another tell-tale sign that Luke at least understood this saying as a cryptic warning of awful judgment hanging over Israel’s head.

There is no insinuation that Israel could have resolved its differences with Rome by asking for terms of peace. True, the uprising that resulted in Rome’s final solution was ill-conceived, but if we look past Wright’s explanation to what Christ actually said, it is quite impossible that Israel’s situation fits Christ’s words in even the most stretched interpretation. And Wright’s explanation that Israel will be like someone building a tower but unable to finish if she does not stop clinging to family identity is just unfathomable. How is the one like the other? In even the most remote sense?

Wright has allowed his momentum to overwhelm his interpretation. Starting at chapter 13 he recounts a series of warning to Israel that they either repent or face destruction. His explanation is fine for 13.1-9 and 13.18-36, but he skips past 13.10-17 without comment, and for good reason: it was a different subject. When he gets to chapter 14 he says that 14.7-11 (do not sit down at the place of honor) is a continuation of the theme, but clearly it is not... nor is 14.1-6 (Jesus healing on the sabbath), which Wright skips over because that clearly is not germane of this point that Israel faces destruction.

The point is this: through chapters 13 and 14 there are digressions from the theme. Wright includes 14.25-33 in support of his point, but he was wrong to do that. Everything in the text says Jesus was not talking about the coming national destruction but about the personal call to follow him. Wright has no reason to claim this pericope belongs with the one before and after when all along he has been dismissing other incidents and teachings because they clearly do not fit. Verse 24 doesn’t say therefore, verse 35 doesn’t say therefore, the subject matter is different, the audience is different... Wright has no right to keep paddling along as if we’re still on the same stream. Everything in the text says verses 14.25-33 fit no better than verses 1-6, which Wright passes by without comment because obviously they don’t fit his theme.

So there are some serious problems that arise if we give credence to his explanation. If Jesus intended his words as a warning to Israel, then why did he use this occasion as a filtering tool to keep curious Israelites (the people of God) at a distance and to warn the serious Israelites (the people of God) the awful life they faced by following him? It truly makes no sense. If Jesus was demanding a reorienting of their values from the Promised Land to him, from their family loyalties to him, and from their understanding of wealth as a blessing to something that was a hindrance, then why would he use these words as a winnowing tool? Did he really expect the people en masse to give up everything and follow him? Was this God’s expectation upon them if they were to avoid national destruction? Clearly it was not.

There is no inference anywhere that by becoming a disciple you would be spared the destruction. Jesus’ words say exactly the opposite: if you become a disciple you risk the same death he is facing. Certainly at times the term “disciple” was used loosely to include everyone who followed him around the countryside, but here Jesus’ words are clearly meant to separate the serious from the curious—and to warn the serious that they had no idea just how serious it truly was.

But the larger issue is where Wright leaves everyone who wasn’t there to hear Jesus speak these words. When Wright relegates this teaching to the first century, saying that the situation then warranted these extreme statements by Christ, he abandons everyone else. Possibly it was a difficult time, but what do we then do with difficult times in the 20 centuries since? (The significance of the cross, and Jesus’ demand that we also take up our cross, is that never again is anyone allowed to ask like Job: why is this happening to me? Suffering is the normal Christian life.) If it was a unique teaching for a unique time, then what do we do now? Follow it? Disregard it? Learn from it but formulate our own strategies based upon our own unique difficulties?

The risk we take by saying it was a teaching for a unique time is that we then say there is no guidance for any other time. What do we do with these teachings? If we don’t “hate” our families, are we disobeying a guideline that was set down in a difficult time to guide us in other difficult times? If we are saying that Christ living amongst men was such a unique time that it can never be repeated, then are we expressly forbidden from following the teaching? Can we follow it if we want? What happens if we do? What happens if we don’t?

It’s a serious matter. If Christ never intended for us to do it, are we sinning if we do? If we do it, die and meet Christ, will he say “what in the world were you thinking?!”? If we don’t do it, die and meet Christ, will he say “do you really think I said all this for no reason?!”?

Saying that the demands of Christ have no relevance to us is a serious matter. If it was written purely for historical interest, then why waste all that parchment and paper? Truly, would God give us a Bible filled with history but no instruction or expectation? When Paul told Timothy that all Scripture is useful for teaching, reproof, correction, and training in right­eousness, he could not have including the historical matter because history is just history. Yes, we can learn from it, but you don’t leave your children because of it. If these words were for only them and only then, what do we do? Do we do it? Not do it? How do we know anything?

If a person commits to do the work of God and that means he has to leave his job and home, sell everything, and also leave his children, so long as it is the demand of Christ he is safe. If Christ said it, we not only are allowed to do it, we are expected to do it. But if a person leaves his children and Christ never intended it, then we have a serious problem, because not only is he not allowed to do it, but by doing it he is committing a grave sin against them because then you are not leaving them, you are abandoning them, and according to Paul you are worse than an infidel.

If Jesus never intended for us to do it then we are the most pitiful of people if we actually do it. We have abandoned our children and forsaken one of our highest duties, missed out on all the birthdays and Christmases, given up holding (or even knowing) our grandchildren.. and all for nothing. Less than nothing, because Christ never expected—or wanted!—you to do it. And instead of “well done my good and faithful servant” you hear only “what were you thinking?!” And your children, suspicious before but now having heard Christ’s rebuttal with their own ears, look at you through the corners of their eyes with heads slightly bowed, saying in their sorrowed expression, “you had no right to do this to us.”

So instead let’s look at it from the other perspective: that it wasn’t for only them and only then. Let’s assume that there are situations in every place and in every time that require the people of God to give up their lives and work for him, and that doing that often requires the sacrifice of everything they hold most dear. Let’s assume that there are soldier-like requirements upon the church in every generation for certain people to leave everything and do the dangerous thing, even if that means leaving their children—just like a soldier would. And let’s assume that Christ not only expects that sacrifice, but honors it, and has given his words as guides and assurances that no one who does this will be shown to be a fool and an sleaze bag. Let’s assume that in every age and in every place there is such a thing as living by faith: that following Christ and giving up everything in this life and then dying, with no assurance or evidence that it was worth it, is something that pleases God. Let’s assume that people who are destitute, persecuted, and tormented for the sake of God’s kingdom are honored as people of whom the world is not worthy, not pitiful despicable people who were so ignorant they would do some thoughtless, hurtful thing like this.

What a sorry church Wright would construct! He turns the teaching of Christ on its head. Instead of being ridiculed for not finishing, we are ridiculed for doing it! He explains away all the solid demands and leaves us to invent our own feeble attempts, with no assurance that at the end we will be met with “well done” or “you did what!?”