Luke 14:26–27

Of all four Gospels, Luke's is the one that emphasises grace. In fact, in Luke 14 the paragraph just before this one contains the parable of the great supper (Luke 14:15-24), a wonderful unfolding of the grace of God. Isn't it worth noticing what comes next? He unfolded divine grace in a way that brought great crowds around Him, eager to listen. Then the Lord turns on them and tests their reality by setting out the terms of discipleship. Shall we not do well to notice the difference between the two, and still keep them together in the order in which He put them?

Notice that Matthew, the first of our Gospels, softens the language here ("hate"). The word translated "hate" means to renounce the claims or influence of the person or thing concerned (Hahn). Paley takes it as "to be indifferent to." Compare Matthew 10:37, "Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me."

The disciple must follow Christ so plainly and so firmly that other eyes would see it as a complete neglect of natural ties. It would look like indifference to the nearest and strongest family claims. The Lord does not call for a lack of affection. But that is how it might and must look to those left behind in His name. The attractive power of grace must outweigh all natural bonds, and every other claim of any kind, on the person who would be His disciple.

There is only one case in which the Lord shows the necessity of forsaking father and mother: when the child is commanded to forsake Christ. In every other case it is sin against Him who said long ago, "Honor your father and your mother," and who also said through the apostle, "Children, obey your parents." When father or mother — yes, or wife or life — comes into competition with Christ, then all must be "hated"; the disciple must bear the cross and follow Him. If any of these stand in the way of confessing Christ as Saviour, it is better to be driven from home and disowned by parents than to be without Christ.

The point is that He must have the very first place in the hearts of His own. The time is short. Things here, whatever they may be, must be held with a loose hand. It cuts very close when we read "and his own life also." Paul knew the meaning of this better than anyone. He always carried the sentence of death in his person. How far along are we in such a path? This rises above nature — indeed, it cuts across nature. Are we prepared for it?

Turn to Luke 14 and read the paragraph, Luke 14:25-35. The same thoughts appear again there, and those four closing words — "cannot be my disciple" — come three times over (verses 26, 27 and 33). Notice: not "he cannot be saved," but "he cannot be my disciple."

The same thoughts reappear here: "If anyone comes to Me and does not hate his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brothers, and sisters, yes, and his own life also, he cannot be My disciple." Those four closing words are repeated three times (vv. 26, 27, and 33). Not, note carefully, "he cannot be saved," but "he cannot be My DISCIPLE."

Of all four Gospels, Luke's is the one that emphasizes grace. In Luke 14 the paragraph just before this one holds the parable of the "great supper" (Luke 14:15-24), a marvellous unfolding of the grace of God. He had unfolded divine grace in a way that brought great crowds around Him, eager to hear. Is it not worth noting, then, that He now turns to them and tests their reality by setting out the terms of discipleship? The two are distinct. And shall we not do well to keep them together in the order in which He put them?

"Self-denial" — denying yourself something — hardly captures the force of "deny himself." What the Lord speaks of is saying "no" to yourself. And "take up his cross" does not mean just bearing trials and troubles. In those days, a man who took up his cross was on his way to execution. He had to accept death at the hands of the world. Saying "no" to yourself is accepting death inside, in your own spirit. Taking up your cross is accepting death from outside, at the hands of the world. That is what discipleship must mean, since we follow the Christ who died, rejected by the world.

Every disciple of Christ bears a cross. It is his — the disciple's — cross. Without it he cannot be a disciple, that is, Jesus' disciple (Luke 14:27). It is the reproach of Christ — Christ as reproached by man. Christ did not say, "And whoever does not bear My cross and come after Me cannot be My disciple." That would mean bearing reproach perfectly, and so would call for a perfect walk. But every believer, in his measure, suffers reproach. It is the same character as Christ's, and therefore it is called a cross; but it is his cross and not Christ's.

People use the word loosely for every kind of trial and suffering, and even unbelievers use it of themselves. It is clear that, using the language of Scripture, no unbeliever bears a cross. The world loves, not hates, its own (John 15:19). Again we hear of "crosses," meaning bad turns of circumstances. How wrong this is! Every believer bears a cross, but he has only one, and he should bear it "daily," not now and then. That cross is the reproach of Christ. No suffering or reproach counts as a cross unless it flows from man's unjust judgment on what is like Christ in us.

Grace must pull harder on the man who would be His disciple than all natural bonds or any other claims. And more than this: it is a question of carrying one's cross and going after Him. It is not enough to come to Him at first. We must follow Him day by day.

The moral of all this is that man is not enough in himself. God alone can enable a man to leave the world for Christ and to keep following after Christ. The worst of all is to renounce Him after bearing such a name — salt that has lost its taste.