Sermon Tone Analysis

We’ve all had those conversations where someone begins by saying, “Okay—I’ve got some good news and I’ve got some bad news.”

And one of two things happens: either you start with the good news, so that the bad news won’t seem so bad, or you start with the bad news, ostensibly to get it out of the way, but really because the good news isn’t all that good, but in comparison with the bad news it sounds a lot better.

I was trying to think of a way to get us into this text today, and here’s the best I could come up with.

We’ve all had those conversations where someone begins by saying, “Okay—I’ve got some good news and I’ve got some bad news.”

And one of two things happens: either you start with the good news, so that the bad news won’t seem so bad, or you start with the bad news, ostensibly to get it out of the way, but really because the good news isn’t really all that good, but in comparison with the bad news it sounds a lot better.

Despite all appearances, that’s not what happens in this text.

Jesus is going to say some pretty shocking things in these verses, but he’s not giving bad news to lead in to good news, or good news to soften the bad.

When you first read this text, it seems that Jesus only gives bad news.

But appearances are deceiving: that’s not what’s going on here.

So what is going on?

To begin with, we have a kind of a prologue to the main section.

To begin with, we have a kind of a prologue to the main section.

Read with me starting at v. 51.

51 When the days drew near for him to be taken up [taken back into heaven after his crucifixion and resurrection], he set his face to go to Jerusalem.

52 And he sent messengers ahead of him, who went and entered a village of the Samaritans, to make preparations for him.

53 But the people did not receive him, because his face was set toward Jerusalem.

54 And when his disciples James and John saw it, they said, “Lord, do you want us to tell fire to come down from heaven and consume them?” 55 But he turned and rebuked them.

56 And they went on to another village.

Anon, 2016.

The Holy Bible: English Standard Version, Wheaton: Standard Bible Society.

So we saw before that Jesus, after coming down from the mountain, knows what’s coming.

He spoke about it with Moses and Elijah on the mountain, and now he starts heading towards his fate—as Luke says (v. 51), he set his face to go to Jerusalem.

To get to Jerusalem, they have to travel, of course, and they plan on going into a Samaritan town, presumably to stay for a night or a few days.

There was a lot of animosity between the Samaritans and the Jews, but Jesus isn’t worried about that: we see in John’s gospel that the first person to whom he revealed his identity was a Samaritan woman, and in this woman’s town many people believed that he was the Messiah.

So this was no new thing.

But this time, in this Samaritan town, will not let Jesus come in.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise, but apparently it rubbed the disciples the wrong way, because here we see James and John (surprisingly, not Peter) offer to call fire down from heaven to burn up the village in retribution for their rudeness.

What is more likely is that God sovereignly closed off

And in v. 55 we see Jesus’s response: But he turned and rebuked them.

I would have loved to hear what that rebuke contained.

Just last week we saw Jesus telling his disciples what it looks like to be a follower of Christ: it is not about affirming superiority over others, but about humbly serving others—whoever they may be, and whether or not they can serve us back.

And we do that because that’s what Jesus did for us: the Son of Man came to the lowest place, suffered the confinement of a human body, suffered rejection and torture and death.

And his followers should be willing do the same.

There are ample promises in the Bible of God’s wrath against those who reject his Son; but we, his children, are never called to exercise that wrath ourselves.

As Paul quoted in :

Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.”

It was wrong of the Samartians in this village to reject Jesus, certainly, and unless they repented, they were judged for that rejection—but it is God who exercises judgment, not his followers.

The point is that being a follower of Christ will sometimes mean denying impulses that seem right at the time.

And that self-denial is the theme that continues through the rest of the passage.

In v. 56 we see that they move on to another village, and as they are traveling they meet three anonymous people who speak to Jesus.

And in each case, the theme is the same—Jesus says, “If you want to follow me, it will cost you.”

Jesus is going to say some pretty shocking things in these verses.

So we’re going to look at what he says first, and then take a step back and ask why he says them.

So let’s look at what it will cost as we move through v. 57-62.

Following Jesus Will Cost You Comfort (v.

57-58)

s

v. 55: cf. last week—not judgment, service (cont. in following verses)

57 As they were going along the road, someone said to him, “I will follow you wherever you go.” 58 And 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.”

One of the most easily forgotten facts about Jesus is that for the three years of his ministry, he was homeless.

He traveled from town to town, preaching the gospel and never stable.

There were times when he was invited into people’s homes, sure; but oftentimes he had to sleep outside.

At one point his bed was the bough of a boat in the middle of a huge storm.

Now there are some people who like that.

I have a lot of friends in Colorado for whom a night in the woods under the stars, sleeping on the ground, is heaven.

The point is not, If you follow me you’ll have to leave your favorite pillow at home.

The point is, If you follow me, you won’t have what you think you need.

Following Christ may mean giving up those things which you see as elementary—basic human needs.

A roof over your head.

Financial security.

Entertainment.

Proximity to loved ones.

Access to easy medical care.

I know a missionary in the Ivory Coast whose baby daughter caught yellow fever and malaria at the same time; it’s a miracle she’s still alive, because they are hours away from the nearest hospital, and that hospital wasn’t equipped to properly care for her.

And they were only there, miles away from the care his little girl needed, because he had chosen to leave home and live among an unreached people group, so that they might hear the gospel.

It’s different for all of us, but each one of us has a list of things we think we need to survive.

And Jesus says that whatever it is that we think we need to be comfortable and assure our well-being, it’s that very thing that we may need to give up.

There will be times when we look around and we think that even animals have it better than we do.

Jesus says, “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.”

Jesus Christ, God himself, gave up the exquisite comfort of heaven to lay on the dirt night after night, in order to save us.

How can we expect his followers to have it any better?

And when God called us to plant a church, he brought us to the 1st arrondissement in Paris, where we pay for a small apartment almost twice as much as we paid every month for our first house.

(And our apartment is not small by Parisian standards.)

So why do it?

Why move into a place that is quite ill-equipped to give us what we thought we needed?

Why not live in the suburbs at least, and take the train into the city?

Because we were, and still are, convinced that in order to effectively minister in a specific place we need to live in that place; we need to be a part of that community; we need people to have easy access to both the church and to us.

But that’s a fairly light example.

After this, Jesus will speak with two more people.

And these next two examples are a good deal more extreme than the first.

Following Jesus will cost us our comfort; and next we’ll see that it will also cost us our priorities.

And our situation is ridiculous compared to others we know, who have moved to places where they will be killed if they tell others they are Christians.

Following Jesus Will Cost You Your Priorities (v.

59-60)

We will have to give up:

Next, Jesus will speak with two more people.

And these next two examples are a good deal more extreme than the first.

Loanne’s mother passed away about six years ago.

When we were at the funeral home preparing for the funeral, they explained to us (the immediate family) what would happen.

They told us that after the viewing, they would put the lid on the coffin and screw the lid on.

But they insisted on the importance that we be a part of the process.

So they gave us all little metal caps that would fit over the screws (for esthetic reasons); presumably putting the finishing touches on the final resting place of a loved one yourself helps you to come to grips with the finality of it.

It’s an emotional aid for grieving people.

Different countries have different rituals for burial when someone dies.

In France the immediate family of the deceased is given little metal caps to fit over the screws which hold the lid down on the coffin; visitors are given flowers to place on the coffin.

(Or in America, people let a handful of dirt fall on the coffin that’s been lowered into the ground.)

The ritual itself isn’t important; it’s the process that’s important.

The process of burial is a sign of respect for the dead, and an emotional aid for the grieving, to help them come to grips with the finality of what has happened.

That is why what happens in v. 59-60 seems so very extreme.

59 To another he said, “Follow me.”

But he said, “Lord, let me first go and bury my father.”

60 And Jesus said to him, “Leave the dead to bury their own dead.