Luke 9
There are several threads running through this chapter, but tonight I noticed how Jesus uses this series of events and conversations to teach his disciples what it means to follow him.
It begins with Christ sending the Twelve out to preach and heal, with nothing. When I’m traveling, I take great comfort in my wallet, knowing that even if I become stranded in a strange place without any luggage, I can prove who I am and buy enough things to get by. I had to read this sentence several times over to let it sink in: “No staff, no bag, no bread, no money, no extra tunic.” Nothing. That’s how we learn faith.
After Peter’s recognition of Jesus as the Christ comes a strong dose of teaching: “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for me will save it.” Much has been written on this particular passage, so I will leave it except to note that the phrase “take up your cross” had to have been shocking and a tad bizarre to the disciples. In hindsight, of course, it makes perfect sense, although the words are every bit as shocking as they were then.
Next we read several instances where Jesus has to firmly correct his disciples. First, he drives out a demon which his disciples could not, because (as Mark’s gospel explains), “this kind can only come out by prayer”. I believe that the disciples’ inability to cast out the demon was for not for lack of a particular incantation, but rather a result of their failure to rely on God. Next, the disciples get into an argument about who will be the greatest. Jesus stops walking, and using a child as an example, says “He who is least among you all - he is the greatest.”
Finally, James and John offer Jesus the service of calling down fire and brimstone to consume an unbelieving Samaritan city. You can’t blame them for a lack of faith here, but that doesn’t put them any closer to the mark. Luke doesn’t record anything more than to say that “Jesus turned and rebuked them”, and he doesn’t need to. That simply is not how Jesus works.
The chapter closes with three short snapshots of well-intentioned, sincere, would-be disciples who turn away. It seems like these would be good material for devoted disciples, but Jesus turns them away, almost harshly, because they are not ready to give all for the Kingdom. Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s discussion of this passage stands foremost in my mind:
“The first disciple offers to follow Jesus without waiting to be called. Jesus damps his ardour by warning him that he does not know what he is doing… The second would-be disciple wants to bury his father before he starts to follow. He is held bound by the trammels of the law… A definite legal ordinance acts as a barrier between Jesus and the man he has called. But the call of Jesus is stronger than the barrier. At this critical moment nothing on earth, however sacred, must be allowed to come between Jesus and the man he has called… [The third would-be disciple] lands himself in a hopeless inconsistency, for although he is ready to throw in his lot with Jesus, he succeeds inputting up a barrier between himself and the Master. ‘But first let me go…’ He wants to follow, but feels obliged to insist on his own terms.” (The Cost of Discipleship, p 60)
Christ bids us to come, but there are stipulations. We must bring nothing. Not our money, not our talents, not our knowledge or our good intentions. We can be sure that He will use those in due time, but we must first acknowledge that God desires us, and not the means we possess. We come with nothing, in simple obedience to his call, and lay our lives at his feet.
