The cost of discipleship is the central theme of the Gospel text from Luke, chapter 9.

In the text, Jesus has “set his face towards Jerusalem.” He was journeying toward Jerusalem to fulfil God’s plan for his life, a plan involving a cross and crucifixion on Calvary.    We know this, but back then, of course, for the disciples, it was as yet unknown.

Jesus is resolute and determined about where his life, and death, are taking him. For the others, like us, they would need to follow without that absolute knowledge of the details of life’s journey, and therein lies the heart of our faith.

As Jesus travels toward Jerusalem, he encounters three would-be followers.    Along the road, the first man said, Lord, I’m ready to follow you wherever you go.    Jesus replied, “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of man has nowhere to lay his head.”

To another, Jesus said, “follow me,” and the man replied, “I’ll come along but first I need to take care of some family business.    I have to bury my father.” To this, Jesus replied, “Let the dead bury their own dead; but as for you, go and proclaim the Kingdom of God.”

Jesus was pretty harsh with these chaps.    Surely Jesus would be reasonable.    He could have been more reasonable, couldn’t he?    What does he expect?    Burying one’s father, and going home to say goodbye to family and friends, are perfectly normal things to want to do.    Yet, in his words to his would-be followers, Jesus is making it quite clear what the cost of following him is.

As modern-day followers of Jesus, we, too, stand under his words.    We, too, must face the cost of discipleship.

Our journey, the Christian life, parallels the journey of Jesus to Jerusalem.    Jesus is telling us, upfront, that our journey with him will not be an easy one.    If we follow in the way of Jesus, we can not expect to have an easier road to travel than the Master does.    For as the Father has sent Jesus, even so he sends us.    Signing up with Jesus means that everything becomes secondary to serving the Kingdom of God and sharing the gospel.    The following will come with a cost.    He tells us we will be less secure than foxes and birds.

Jesus is letting his followers know the urgency of the Kingdom of God.    The Kingdom’s call is more urgent than the need to bury our parents and more urgent than saying farewell to friends.    The text strikes a chord of dissonance in us because family and friends are important.    They are the most important things in the world, in terms of our human affairs.    By saying they are secondary to the Kingdom, Jesus is telling us that God’s affairs take priority over human affairs, no matter how important they may be.

In his words about counting the cost, Jesus is not trying to be “harsh” or “nonchalant”.    He is not being “mean,” he’s being Lord.

Our understanding of ‘having a Lord’ these days is very different to Jesus’ time or even the time when the scriptures were translated.

We are not knights with arms emblazoned on our shields, nor serf tenant-farmers with badges on our tabards as we reluctantly follow our landlord Baron into battle in an obligation, in his pursuit of power or wealth or courtly influence, and yet “To have a Lord, is to have a Lord.” That is to say, one’s primary allegiance is to that Lord.    Service to the Lord takes priority over everything else, doesn’t it?

Jesus is not against “burying the dead,” nor is he anti- “family values.” He was speaking to those would-be followers of his own experience.    He, too, was serving God.    He, too, made the Kingdom his top priority.    He, too, left his parents.    He, too, went away from his hometown Nazareth and all his friends.    He knew of what he spoke.

He had counted the cost.    He would not ask any would-be followers to do things he, himself, had not already done. Or to go to places he, himself, had not already gone. Jesus demonstrated in a way leaders today are sorely lacking.

As Christians who are coming to the end of the first quarter of the 21st Century, it would be easy to think the cost of discipleship has been lowered.    We don’t have to literally follow our Lord.    After all, we’ve come a long way, haven’t we?

There are almost a billion Christians worldwide, not just a tiny band of followers like back then.    We have extensive and complex church structures, giant cathedrals, many bishops, priests and many more deacons.

In some parts of the world, the pews are filled to the brim and even have some “mega-churches” with literally thousands of followers singing His name. We have church agencies and charities; we have church-run websites, Facebook pages, zoom-based worship, church streams and virtual churches with God-dedicated computer networks.

It would be easy to say, “Relax, Jesus, have a well-earned rest; you’ve got plenty of modern high-tech disciples with many terabytes of computing beeping and buzzing just for you.    So, as individuals, we don’t have to worry about it, do we?    We don’t have to worry about leaving home and hearth. Even if, in this congregation, many of us have chosen to do so for all manner of reasons and ended up together a long way from where we might call home; for most Christians, this is not the case.   All the bases are covered, aren’t they?

Unfortunately, the cost of discipleship is not time-conditioned.    We are under the same word as the first disciples.

We, too, are less secure in the world than foxes and birds.    If we feel more confident than foxes and birds, perhaps we spend too much time burying our dead, chatting with friends, and looking back over the plough. In today’s modern context, this might mean we spend too much time reinforcing our beliefs within the biased bubbles that the social media algorithms present to us.

These torrents of ideas only reaffirm our perspective by presenting us with similar views of people who ‘think like us’.

They allow us time and again to see memories we have shared in the past, giving us time and again the opportunity to look back over the ground we have already ploughed and, more often than not, we should have left in the past.

In our second reading from Galatians, Paul tells us of the freedom we have in Christ Jesus.    He says, “For freedom, Christ has set us free, stand firm, therefore, and do not submit again to the yoke of slavery.” The freedom of God, the freedom of Jesus, the freedom Paul was talking about, is not freedom from the cost of discipleship but freedom for it.

We do not plough and look back; ploughing means going forward, not being defined by or held captive by our past notions or, indeed, the people we used to be.

Life in Christ is a forward-looking journey, encouraging us to be the best version of ourselves.

The Journey of life in Christ is about continuous improvement and always looking forward, and it is never easy – it requires constant determination and sacrifice.

Yet the Lord who has called us to follow will stay with us along the way;…of this, if we allow our faith to grow, we can be assured.

Amen