The Hard Road to Glory Text: Matthew 8:18-22
Introduction: Fans vs. Followers
We live in an age that has domesticated the Lion of Judah and turned Him into a declawed housecat. Modern American evangelicalism has marketed a version of Jesus who is palatable, therapeutic, and, above all, convenient. This Jesus fits neatly into our schedules, blesses our consumeristic lifestyles, and never, ever makes unreasonable demands. He is a life coach, a spiritual guru, a celestial vending machine for blessings. But this Jesus is a fiction. He is an idol carved out of our own self-serving desires.
The Jesus we meet in the Gospels is altogether different. He is wild, untamable, and glorious. He is not looking for admirers. He is not running a fan club. He is recruiting soldiers for a spiritual war, and the terms of enlistment are unconditional surrender. When He calls, He does not offer a list of benefits and a retirement plan. He offers a cross. He offers Himself.
In our text today, Jesus is at the height of His popularity. He has just healed a leper, a centurion's servant, and Peter's mother-in-law. He has cast out demons and healed all who were sick. The crowds are flocking to Him. By the metrics of the modern church growth movement, His ministry is an unqualified success. But Jesus does not measure success by the size of the crowd. He measures it by the quality of the commitment. And so, when He sees the multitude, He does something that would get any modern pastor fired. He deliberately thins the herd. He makes it clear that the road to glory is a hard road, and it is not for everyone. He is about to separate the merely interested from the truly converted.
The Text
Now when Jesus saw a crowd around Him, He gave orders to depart to the other side of the sea. Then a scribe came and said to Him, "Teacher, I will follow You wherever You go." And Jesus said to him, "The foxes have holes and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head." And another of the disciples said to Him, "Lord, permit me first to go and bury my father." But Jesus said to him, "Follow Me, and allow the dead to bury their own dead."
(Matthew 8:18-22 LSB)
Escaping the Crowd (v. 18)
The scene opens with a paradox.
"Now when Jesus saw a crowd around Him, He gave orders to depart to the other side of the sea." (Matthew 8:18 LSB)
A crowd is a sign of success, is it not? A large platform means a greater reach. But Jesus sees danger in the crowd. A crowd is fickle. A crowd is drawn by the spectacle of miracles, not the substance of the message. The same kind of people who shout "Hosanna!" on Sunday will be shouting "Crucify Him!" by Friday. Jesus is not interested in building a movement based on shallow emotionalism. He knows that true discipleship is not forged in the thrill of the multitude but in the trials of the journey.
So He gives the order to leave. He is intentionally creating distance. He is forcing a decision. It is easy to be a "Jesus fan" when He is right there, healing the sick and feeding the hungry. It is another thing entirely to get in the boat and follow Him into the storm, to the "other side," which in this case is the Gentile region of the Gadarenes. He is moving from the familiar to the foreign, from the comfortable to the costly. This command to depart is the first filter. Who is willing to leave the security of the crowd and the shoreline to follow Him into the unknown?
The Romantic Volunteer (v. 19-20)
The first man to step forward seems to be the ideal candidate. He is a scribe, an expert in the Law of Moses.
"Then a scribe came and said to Him, 'Teacher, I will follow You wherever You go.'" (Matthew 8:19 LSB)
This is a bold, sweeping declaration. It is an unconditional pledge of allegiance. On the surface, it is exactly what a leader wants to hear. This scribe is not just curious; he is committed. He is ready to sign the blank check. He is drawn to the authority and wisdom of Jesus the Teacher. He has likely heard the Sermon on the Mount and seen the miracles, and he is ready to throw his lot in with this new movement.
But Jesus, who knows the hearts of all men, sees beneath the surface of this man's enthusiastic promise. He responds not with a welcoming "Glad to have you aboard," but with a stark and sobering reality check.
"And Jesus said to him, 'The foxes have holes and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head.'" (Matthew 8:20 LSB)
Jesus essentially says, "Have you counted the cost? You say you will follow me anywhere, but are you prepared for homelessness?" Even wild animals have a place to call home, a place of shelter and security. But the Son of Man, the one who holds all of creation together by the word of His power, has no fixed address on earth. He is an itinerant, a wanderer, a king in exile.
The title "Son of Man" is crucial here. It is Jesus' favorite self-designation, drawn from Daniel 7, where the Son of Man is a figure of cosmic authority who comes on the clouds to receive an everlasting dominion. The irony is staggering. The Lord of glory, the rightful King of the universe, is a vagrant in His own creation. To follow Him is to embrace this same worldly displacement. It means your security cannot be found in a 401k, a mortgage, or a settled routine. Your security must be in a Person, not a place. Jesus is cooling this scribe's romantic zeal with the cold water of reality. The path of discipleship is not a path of earthly comfort but of glorious insecurity in the world's eyes.
The Procrastinating Disciple (v. 21-22)
The second man is different. He is not a newcomer but is already identified as "another of the disciples." He is already in the boat, so to speak. But his commitment has a condition.
"And another of the disciples said to Him, 'Lord, permit me first to go and bury my father.'" (Matthew 8:21 LSB)
This sounds like a perfectly reasonable request. Honoring one's parents is the fifth commandment. Caring for a deceased father is a sacred duty. But the key word here is "first." This is likely not a request for a few days off to attend an imminent funeral. It is more probable that his father is still alive, and he is asking to postpone his active discipleship until his father passes away and he has secured his inheritance. He is saying, "Jesus, you are my Lord, but my family obligations and my financial future come first. I will follow you completely, but later." He wants to put the claims of Christ on hold until his earthly affairs are in order.
Jesus' reply is one of His most shocking and uncompromising statements in all of Scripture.
"But Jesus said to him, 'Follow Me, and allow the dead to bury their own dead.'" (Matthew 8:22 LSB)
This is not a callous dismissal of family duty. Jesus is the one who established the family. Rather, it is a radical reordering of all loyalties. He is drawing an absolute line in the sand. There can be no "first" before "Follow Me." The call of the Kingdom of God is supremely urgent and supremely important. It eclipses every other claim on our lives.
The phrase "allow the dead to bury their own dead" is a stunning play on words. Let the spiritually dead, those who are outside the kingdom of life, tend to the affairs of the physically dead. The business of the old, dying world is secondary. The business of the Prince of Life is primary. Any good thing, even a sacred duty like honoring a parent, becomes an idol when it takes precedence over the immediate, absolute claim of Christ. Jesus is not an option to be scheduled into our lives when convenient. He is Lord, and He demands all of us, right now.
Conclusion: The Unconditional Call
These two men represent two great and timeless temptations that keep men from true discipleship. The first is the temptation of uncalculated romanticism. He was all in, emotionally, but he had not considered the cost. He wanted the crown without the cross. The second is the temptation of calculated procrastination. He understood the cost, and that is precisely why he wanted to delay paying it. He wanted the security of the world first, and the kingdom of God second.
Jesus rejects both. He does not want the follower who will burn out when the going gets tough, nor the follower who will never get going at all. The call to follow Christ is a call to a sober calculation, and then a radical, immediate abandonment of all other claims to first place in our lives.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer famously said, "When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die." This is the heart of the matter. The cost of following Jesus is your life. It costs you your right to your own comfort, your own schedule, your own ambitions, and your own cherished loyalties. You must subordinate everything to Him.
But here is the glorious gospel paradox. In losing your life, you find it (Matthew 10:39). In giving up your claim to yourself, you are brought under the care of the one who owns the universe. The cost is everything, but the reward is Christ Himself. He is the treasure hidden in the field, for which a man joyfully sells all that he has to acquire it. The question Jesus puts to these men, and to us, is this: Is He worth it? Is He your Lord, or is He just a Teacher you admire? Is He your supreme treasure, or is He an insurance policy you plan to activate later? Follow me, He says. And He means now.