The Cost of Following Jesus

A Sermon on Luke 9:57-62

Me - Olympic Athlete focus

The Winter Olympics are happening right now, and if you've been watching, you've seen what total commitment looks like. Think about a downhill skier. They're flying down a mountain at 80 miles per hour, and everything depends on looking ahead. You read the terrain in front of you, you anticipate the next gate, the next turn. If you glance back to see how your time compares, or if you let your mind wander to the run you botched in qualifying, you're done. At that speed, a split second of backward focus means you're in the safety netting.

Or think about a figure skater mid routine. Every jump, every spin requires total presence. You can't land a triple axel while thinking about the one you fell on in practice yesterday. The only direction that matters is forward, into the next element.

These athletes have given up years of normal life for this. They've sacrificed comfort, time with family, the way life "should" look, all for the sake of one calling. And every one of them will tell you the same thing: you cannot perform at this level with divided attention. You have to be all in, eyes forward, holding nothing back.

Transition: "That picture of total, singular focus is exactly what Jesus demands of his followers in today's passage. And the stakes are even higher than a gold medal."

We - Divided focus in this life

But most of us don’t live with that kind of singular focus, do we? We all have things we hold on to, good things even, that compete with following Jesus wholeheartedly. Comfort, family expectations, career plans, the way life “should” look.

We’re not usually choosing between good and evil. We’re choosing between good and best. And that’s what makes it so hard. It’s easy to justify looking back when what’s behind you looks so reasonable.

Transition: “So what does Jesus have to say to people like us, people who want to follow him but keep looking over our shoulder?”

God - Letting Go of everything for the sake of the cross

Context v. 51 context

Jesus has just “set his face toward Jerusalem” (9:51). This is the great turning point in Luke. Everything from here on is shaped by the cross. He is walking toward total self giving.

These discipleship demands come from a Savior who is already doing what he asks of us. He’s not looking back either.

The Enthusiast (vv. 57–58)

A man volunteers: “I will follow you wherever you go.” Big words. Jesus responds by naming the cost: “Foxes have holes, birds have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.”

Jesus isn’t just talking about camping outdoors. He’s describing a life of rejection and dependence. Most Palestinian Jews, even poor ones, had a home. Jesus had given that up. Following him means letting go of the comfort and security we build for ourselves.

The obstacle: comfort and security.

The Dutiful Son (vv. 59–60)

Jesus calls a man to follow. The man asks to first bury his father. This likely was not an immediate funeral but the extended obligation of reburying bones up to a year later, or possibly waiting until his father eventually dies. Either way, it’s a request for significant delay.

In Jewish culture, burying a parent was one of the most sacred duties, considered more important than studying the Torah. To neglect it would make you a reproach in your village, possibly for life.

Jesus’ response is shocking: “Let the dead bury their own dead, but you go and proclaim the kingdom of God.” He’s claiming an authority that overrides even the most sacred family and cultural obligations, an authority that in the Old Testament belongs only to God (cf. Deut. 6:4–5).

The obstacle: cultural and family obligations, even sacred ones.

The Backward Glancer (vv. 61–62)

A third person offers to follow but asks to say goodbye to family first. A reasonable request. Elijah allowed Elisha to do exactly this (1 Kings 19:19–21). But Jesus is more radical than Elijah. Something greater than Elijah is here.

Jesus uses the image of plowing: “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.” The hand held plow was light and wooden. It required full attention. Look back and the furrow goes crooked, or the plow tip breaks.

This is the central image of the passage: following Jesus is forward looking. N.T. Wright puts it well. If you’re singing a song, you can’t worry about whether you sang the last line right; you have to focus on the next one. The map you need is for the road ahead, not the one behind.

The obstacle: nostalgic attachment to the past.

What This Tells Us About Jesus

This passage is not just about discipleship. It’s about Jesus. He claims an allegiance that belongs only to God. He demands more than Elijah did. He places himself above the Torah’s most honored obligations. The question behind these encounters is: Who is this man who dares to ask this?

The urgency is eschatological. “Go and proclaim the kingdom of God.” Something decisive is happening in history right now. The kingdom’s arrival reorders every prior commitment.

You - what is Jesus asking you to set aside to follow him?

Name the three obstacles directly and personally:

What comfort or security are you clinging to that keeps you from following Jesus more fully?

What obligations or expectations, even good and respectable ones, have become an excuse for delay?

What are you looking back at instead of forward?

The call isn’t to hate your family or abandon your responsibilities. Luke affirms those elsewhere. It’s about ordering. It’s about what comes first. As the Heidelberg Catechism says, we are to “trust in God alone” and “give up anything rather than go against his will” (Q&A 94).

Think back to the olympic athletes. You cannot make your next turn down the hill or land the next spin on the ice while looking at the past mistake. Where is Jesus asking you to go, not yesterday but tomorrow? Where is the plow? Are you looking forward?

We - Looking towards Christ together.

Here’s the good news: the One who makes this radical demand is the same One who “set his face toward Jerusalem” to die for people who look back, make excuses, and count the cost. Jesus doesn’t just call us forward. He goes ahead of us. He paid for our crooked furrows.

This passage functions as law. It exposes our inability to meet the radical demand on our own. But it drives us to grace. The call is absolute, but it comes from a Savior who meets us in our failure.

Together, as a church, we move forward. We announce the kingdom of God, not because we’ve perfectly let go of everything, but because Christ has taken hold of us. We don’t look back. We look to him.

Close with the plow image: “Hands on the plow. Eyes forward. Together.”