But First, Jesus: Luke 9:51-62 - Third Sunday after Pentecost


51When the days drew near for [Jesus] to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem. 52And he sent messengers ahead of him. On their way they entered a village of the Samaritans to make ready for him; 53but they did not receive him, because his face was set toward Jerusalem. 54When his disciples James and John saw it, they said, “Lord, do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?” 55But he turned and rebuked them. 56Then they went on to another village.
57As they were going along the road, someone said to him, “I will follow you wherever you go.” 58And Jesus said to him, “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” 59To another he said, “Follow me.” But he said, “Lord, first let me go and bury my father.” 60But Jesus said to him, “Let the dead bury their own dead; but as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God.” 61Another said, “I will follow you, Lord; but let me first say farewell to those at my home.” 62
Jesus said to him, “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.” (NRSV)


As I was packing my things to go to Lutherlyn this week, I was resolved that I would not be attending next year. It’s too much time away from home—and far too exhausting a commitment to fall the week after vacation bible school (which it always does).

That attitude stayed with me until Tuesday—when I asked a group of boys about what good things God had been doing for them. One of them, who was considerably small for his age, said “nobody bullies me here.” The young man sitting next to him immediately said, “nobody judges you here. It’s like everyone’s your friend, even if they don’t know you.”

Their words hit me like a lightning bolt—and later, I recalled what our young people said about vacation bible school: “I wish we could have VBS all summer.” “I didn’t have friends before, but I have friends now.”

This is why these ministries are worthwhile—you grow in your relationship with Jesus when you’re in the presence of people who love like he does. They are sacred times and sacred spaces for living in an intentional, authentic Christian community, with Christ at the center of everything. This goes entirely against the grain of modern, 21st century American life—where the strong dominate the weak; where the loudest, harshest voices get heard; where money and power buy happiness; where it’s every man [sic.] for himself. And yet, for as much as we value such sacred times and spaces, they are so easily rejected—like Jesus himself. And you don’t have to hate Jesus to reject him. In fact, the people who reject him most often are the people who profess to love him. That’s what sinners do. And in today’s Gospel, Jesus teaches us just how easy it is to say “no” to him, and miss out on all he desires to accomplish in you.

Jesus says to someone, “follow me.” But they answer, “first, let me bury my father.” Another says to Jesus, “I will follow you, but first let me say farewell to those at home.”

Now I must confess that Jesus comes off sounding extremely harsh and even cruel. I cannot imagine turning someone away from a loved one’s funeral because the clothing closet needs volunteers; or sending a young person off to Lutherlyn without allowing them to pack their things and say good-bye. One of these is cruel; the other is kidnapping!

But what I hear is that kingdom righteousness is far beyond anything any of us could deliver by the will of our flesh. What I also hear is that God’s kingdom comes with undeniable urgency. Do you want to be uplifted in the tide of God’s saving grace? Or will you miss out because you beholden to all your “first things?”

To tell you the truth, I probably say, “but first” to Jesus more often than I answer him with an absolute “yes,” and it’s not because there’s a loved one to bury or I need to say good-bye.” I say, “but first, let me sleep.” “I want to watch TV.” “The house is a mess.” “There’s dirty dishes in the sink.”

I don’t think of discipleship as following Jesus. I hear it as one more commitment added to my already busy schedule—and I can’t bear for those “first things” to be delayed for an hour, a day, a week, a month, a year—or indefinitely!?!
The other reason why it’s easy to say, “but first,” is that discipleship usually involves other sinful human beings just like you. Would you choose cutting grass over being around people who test your patience?

And lastly, discipleship doesn’t necessarily promise all the fun and excitement of, say, a Steeler game or an all-inclusive resort. At the same time, no one’s ever come from vacation and said that the experience changed their life.

All of these first things are chains that bind you in slavery to a world ruled by sin and death. You’re giving no thought to how Jesus might act to heal you, strengthen you, or involve you in something life-changing and life-transforming? But new life happens when you trust Jesus enough to allow him to say to you, “but first, let me love you. Let me lead you. Let me use you. Let me transform you.” “But first, let me fill you with grace to live fully and abundantly in a world where grass needs cut, bills need paid, children hunger, and good people suffer.” “But first, let me show you how my love can make a difference.” He may need a week, a month, a year, or a lifetime. Or maybe, just an hour or two out of your week; or even just a few moments. Ambitions will tell you that you can’t afford to miss out on this or that. Guilt will make you feel bad for saying “no” or keeping someone waiting. Anxiety will pull you away from things you can’t control. People will criticize and second-guess you when you’re putting Jesus first instead of them. Your flesh may even tell you that you lack the strength or the nerve to go.

But somewhere in your life, there is a time to say: “but first, Jesus.”

But first, allow Jesus to abide in you. Trust him to provide the rest and rejuvenation you need. Pray for the Spirit to keep you open to what Jesus is up to. Let him show you what truly matters and help you release what does not. Follow him into joys that the world cannot give. Watch as his Spirit accomplishes far more in you than you could ever ask or imagine.

So when you’re feeling the pressure or feeling the pull; when voices are crying out for your attention; when ambition is pushing you forward—these are the times when it’s most urgent to say: “but first, Jesus.” 

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