The Gospels speak often about the cost of discipleship. They emphasize that Jesus is worth everything. And this should make sense if we think about it even for a moment. “For how does it profit someone to gain even the entire world but lose oneself forever?” (Luke 9:25). If Jesus really is our savior, he’s worth everything. If Jesus really is Lord of the universe, he is worth everything.
Everything thus hinges on his identity; real faith in Jesus, therefore, is not a passive assent like some fire escape just-in-case. To genuinely believe in Jesus is to stake our life on his claims, to entrust our eternal welfare into his care. Our level of commitment to him may be directly proportional to the genuineness of our faith in him.
Statements about radically abandoning everything include an element of hyperbole, in that God knows that we have basic needs as physical beings. God promises to look out for Jesus’s followers having food and clothing (Luke 12:28-30), though he calls us to seek first his kingdom (12:31). But of course the point of hyperbole—rhetorical overstatement—is to grip our attention and make us consider our ways—not to let us dismiss them as “merely hyperbole.”
To come after Jesus was to be his disciple, his follower. Yet Jesus says that to come after him one must “hate” his parents, wife, children and siblings (14:26). From Jesus’s teachings elsewhere, it is clear that he does want his disciples to honor their parents (Luke 18:20), to remain loyal to their spouse (16:18), and to welcome and care for children (18:16). But by comparison with loyalty to Jesus, such loyalties can be depicted hyperbolically as hatred! Matthew’s Gospel puts this phrase more gently: anyone who loves another more than Jesus is not worthy of Jesus (Matt 10:37)—Jesus comes first.
When households are divided because some oppose Jesus, loyalty to Jesus must transcend loyalty to the household (Luke 12:53). When in times of persecution even relatives and friends might betray you to protect themselves (21:16), loyalty to Jesus must remain first. Jesus said this in a society where family ties were paramount and such betrayals might seem inconceivable. But persecution did come, and some families divided over how much Jesus was worth.
Jesus’s first disciples were ready to pay this price. When Jesus challenged the rich ruler to sell everything, give it to the poor, and become a disciple of Jesus, the ruler balked at the cost (18:18-25). Peter then reminded Jesus that he and his colleagues had “left everything we had to follow you!” (18:28). Jesus pointed out that whoever left home and family for the kingdom’s sake—perhaps driven away by persecution or by a calling that no one else would embrace—would receive great reward (18:29-30). The reward included both a larger spiritual family in this world and eternal life in the coming one (18:30).
Yet Peter and his colleagues themselves balked at Jesus’s further demand. We must love Jesus more than our own life; we must take up our cross to follow him (14:26-27). Despite Jesus’s clarity, when it came time to take up their crosses to follow him, all his disciples were in hiding, and soldiers had to draft a bystander, Simon of Cyrene, to carry Jesus’s cross (23:26).
Jesus wanted his disciples to understand, going into the mission, what it might cost them. As a young Christian zealously sharing my faith on the street, I sometimes was beaten or had my life threatened. I assumed this was par for the course, because I understood that my life in this world became forfeit from the moment of my conversion. Every moment after my conversion was a gift, an opportunity to make my life in this world count for something that matters forever. I already had what I needed, nothing which could be greater: eternal life in fellowship with my creator.
Jesus offers two examples in this passage of counting the cost. Why start a building and leave it half-finished? People who pass your building will laugh at your foolishness (14:28-30). (My wife assures me that this happens sometimes in her country of Congo.) Likewise, a sane ruler will not start a war against another ruler who has much greater firepower (14:31-32). Jesus is worth everything, but times of testing reveal how much we believe that, how much we value him. It is best to count the cost up front, and live accordingly so that it becomes an ingrained habit.
Some people suppose that Jesus told only a rich ruler, in the context of seeking eternal life (18:18), to sell everything and give to the poor (18:22). This reflects something of a pattern:
- Explaining his message of repentance, John declares that anyone with even just two shirts should share one with the person who doesn’t have any (Luke 3:11)
- Promising the kingdom, Jesus invites disciples to sell their possessions and give to the poor, so they will have treasure in heaven (12:33)
- Here in 14:33, Jesus declares, “none of you can be my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions” (NRSV).
Is there an element of hyperbole here? Luke’s glowing description of the early Jerusalem church suggests that there is. Rather than selling everything upon their conversion, they sold it as needed afterward to help those in need (Acts 2:44-45; 4:32-35). This was a sign of their experience of the Spirit, an experience that empowers radical discipleship. We do not lose all our property at the moment of conversion. We do, however, lose our ownership of it, as Charles Finney aptly pointed out during nineteenth-century revivls. Our resources are now God’s resources, to be deployed most effectively for the purposes of his kingdom.
Jesus then compares his disciples to salt. Salt was important in antiquity, but if salt loses its identity as salt, it becomes worthless (14:34-35). True disciples must live out the values of the kingdom.
We who have eternal life in Jesus need not balk at any price in this world. Instead, we can invest our resources in ways that count for all eternity. A mediocre life that comes and goes in this world may lack significance. But a life devoted to Jesus has ultimate significance, as we devote our resources to his cause, caring for those in need. Those needs are far greater than our resources, which is why we never have good reason to neglect our mission.
I want to devote all my time and money to things that will last forever. I don’t waste time on frivolous games or entertainment; I don’t waste money on petty trinkets or fashion that will not advance the kingdom. Of course sometimes I must bend for the sake of others who don’t share or understand these commitments. My desire, however, is that in counting Jesus worth everything, they too will invest all their resources in matters of eternal significance. Why waste anything when the world’s need is so great and our resources can count forever?
Each person must decide for themselves what such a lifestyle of devotion looks like. Stewardship demands wisdom—some investments generate more returns for the kingdom. Some of us will seek to earn more to invest in serving people for Jesus. Some others will seek to have more free time to invest in serving people for Jesus. Some have only a widow’s mite to invest, but God looks on what we do with what we have. This is not about judging someone else’s commitments by how much they put in the offering plate or coach Little Leaguers or the like. But each of us should consider: what kind of difference we want to make in this world. We each have just one life: how will we deploy it in service of the kingdom? What will have eternal significance? What will count forever?
