And it came to pass as they went in the way, one said to him, I will follow thee wheresoever thou goest, Lord.
On the road a man offers Jesus unlimited loyalty, with no call and no conditions. The answer he gets is not about him at all, but about the road he has just volunteered for.
He speaks "as they were going along the road." That road already has one destination, and it colours everything that follows.
Luke 9:51 seems to include all the rest of the Gospel narrative under this general subject. The journey led on to Jerusalem, the place where He was to be crucified, and everything is in the light of that. If men are to follow Him, it is following One who is going to the cross.
The words sound like the finest thing a person could say to Jesus. They are also a promise made out of strength the speaker does not have.
It seemed a good confession, and it was a zealous resolution; but man can never go ahead of the Lord. No one ever did give himself up to God — he must be called. The person who says "I will follow you" does not know his own weakness. Think what man is and what Jesus is. For a man to say "I will follow you wherever you go" is plain presumption of the worst kind. Yet man sees no presumption in it. Man is so ignorant, so dulled by unbelief, that real faith looks presumptuous to him. Yet nothing is so humble. Faith forgets itself in the goodness and might of the One it leans on.
Christ puts the offer to the test. The test is a comparison with foxes and birds, and it measures what following Him would cost.
One man says, "Lord, I will follow you wherever you go," but Christ puts him to the test. You cannot go unless you share the lot of One who had nowhere to lay His head. You would sooner go to the birds of the air for a nest, or to the foxes for a hole, than to the Son of Man for a home in this world. They were not to come to Him now as the One who held the promises. They were to come to One whose portion was utter and complete rejection. Following Him could not come with ease and comfort here.
Darby traces the same pattern back to the night Jesus was born: "Everyone found room in the inn except Him, and anyone who wanted to find the One the angels celebrate had to go to the manger."
His homelessness was not bad luck. He owned the world He walked through, and the title Son of Man points to a rule that has not yet come.
The Lord's quiet answer neither pushed him away nor scolded him. It told him that true discipleship was not an easy calling... The Lord was a stranger in the middle of His own creation, though everything belonged to Him. One day He will rule over it all in the open as Son of Man (Psalm 8:6; Heb. 2:7-9). What effect the Lord's answer had on the man is not stated, and it does not concern us. What we need to know is the character of the path a true disciple must be willing to face.
So how does anyone follow at all? Kelly answers that the ability comes with the call.
No man is fit to follow the Lord until grace calls him. And when we are called, the Lord does not send us out at our own expense. He gives generously the wisdom and ability needed to those who ask Him; but He goes before us.
Luke never tells us what the man did. That silence turns the question toward every reader who has felt the same easy eagerness.
Some people say without thinking, "I would like to follow Him." That is just like the man who said, "Lord, I will follow you wherever you go." But Jesus spoke to this man. It was as if He said: Do you know what you are saying? Do you know why you are so ready to come? "Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head." Will you follow the Homeless Stranger?
- Road. He offers to follow on a journey with a fixed end — Jerusalem and the cross. To follow Him anywhere is to follow Him there.
- Resolve. "I will follow you" is the promise of a man who does not know his own weakness. No one ever gave himself to God; grace must call him, and grace supplies what it calls for.
- Reality. Foxes have holes and birds have nests. The Son of Man had less shelter in this world than His own creatures.
- Rejection. He is a stranger inside a world that belongs to Him — refused room at the inn at His birth, and now with nowhere to lay His head.
- Reign. The homeless Son of Man will one day openly rule over everything He now walks through as a stranger. The path is hard; the destination is not in doubt.
And Jesus said to him, The foxes have holes and the birds of the heaven roosting-places, but the Son of man has not where he may lay his head.
In Luke 9 two men offer to follow Jesus, and He calls a third. Each one meets the cost. The first man gets an answer that says nothing about his eagerness and everything about the poverty of the One he wants to follow.
The man's offer sounds generous. One writer weighs what it means to offer yourself to God before God has called you.
It seemed to be a good confession, and it was a zealous resolution; but man can never go ahead of the Lord. No one ever did give himself up to God — he must be called. The person who says "I will follow you" does not know his own weakness... He miscalculates. He overlooks the glory of Christ and the depth of His grace. He overlooks his own total lack of power, and perhaps even his need of forgiveness. No one is fit to follow the Lord until he is called by grace.
Jesus does not refuse the man. He describes the road, and that description is the test.
One says, "Lord, I will follow you wherever you go," but Christ puts him to the test. You cannot go unless you take up your lot with One who had nowhere to lay His head. You would sooner go to the birds of the air for a nest, or to the foxes for a hole, than to the Son of Man for a home in this world. They were not to come to Him now as the One who held the promises. They were to come to One whose portion was utter and complete rejection... At His birth we see the same thing. Everyone found room in the inn except Him.
Foxes and birds are not rich. They are small creatures with the barest cover, and they still have more than He does.
The Word who became flesh was the Son of Man, with rights to the whole creation. Yet He had nowhere to lay His head... Foxes and birds are creatures of His hand, members of the lower creation. They had their lairs and their nests, but He, the Lord of them all, was homeless.
No one took anything from Him by force. Another writer presses the difference between losing something and refusing it.
By personal right this Son of Man owned everything; He had never lost Eden... With all this title, He took nothing. He had lost nothing, but still He would have nothing. No sentence of judgement had exposed Him to hardship or sorrow. The earth on which He had the right to walk was not one of thorns and thistles. But He willingly took up all sorrow and hardship, and walked as one acquainted with grief all His days.
The man's impulse may have been sincere. But sincerity is not the same as strength.
This may have been the outcome of a generous impulse that drew the man to the Lord. At the same time it betrays the shallowness of nature. Nature did not grasp who the Lord was, where He was going, or the path He was treading... The energy of nature, however genuine, was not prepared for such a path. Nature can do much, but it cannot give up itself, its ease, its comforts, to follow a rejected Lord. And so, once the Lord set this path before the volunteer, we hear no more of him.
The man came hoping to get something. One writer shows how little was on offer.
The man was judged. He came for what he could get, and the Lord had nothing to give him — nothing but shame, and suffering, and destitution... There was no man in Israel so poor as the Lord Jesus. So it was no use for this man to follow Him in the hope of gaining by it.
The verse is not only a warning. It also explains where our own rest comes from.
There is only one man who never had a place of rest... And if we now have a nest, a place of rest in God, it is because for our sakes Jesus was without rest on earth.
One writer turns the verse on the ordinary longing for a home of your own.
No one likes to be without a home. There is a longing in everyone's heart for a resting place... But one blessed Stranger was here. He was the true Pilgrim, and He tells those who would follow Him that His was not a path of ease, of wealth or of power... We may have what we call a home. But as far as the real home of the soul goes, are we not joined with Him who had nowhere to lay His head?
- Offer. The man volunteers unlimited loyalty; no one ever gives himself to God unasked — he must be called.
- Test. Jesus answers by describing the road, not by praising the promise. A fox's hole is easier to find than a home for the Son of Man.
- Cost. He owned all creation and lost none of it, yet He took nothing; there was nothing on earth to gain by following Him.
- Exposure. Natural eagerness can do much, but it cannot surrender its own ease; the volunteer is never heard of again.
- Gift. He had no rest on earth so that we could have rest in God. That makes every follower a pilgrim here.
And he said to another, Follow me. But he said, Lord, allow me to go first and bury my father.
Here the Lord Himself calls a man to follow Him. The answer sounds reasonable — but one small word in it, "first," is what the Lord will not accept.
The two men in this passage move in opposite directions. The first offered himself and felt no obstacle; this one is called, and immediately the obstacles appear.
And He said to another, "Follow me." But he said, "Lord, let me first go and bury my father." Jesus said to him, "Leave the dead to bury their own dead. But as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God." Now here is real faith; and where this exists, it is more than a theory — difficulties are felt. So the man begins to make an excuse. On one side he feels the attraction of the word of Jesus. But at the same time he is not free from the force that drags him back into nature.
Everything in the man's answer turns on one word. He does not refuse. He reorders.
The word "first" — let me first go and bury my father — shows something put before Christ. It is as if the man said, "There is something I put ahead of Your calling." Death had come in, and this very plea told Christ that they were all under death. It was quite a right thing for the man to bury his father. But if life has come in, and the question is redemption — to be lost or saved — you must give yourself up to it.
The plea was not a weak one. It was the most basic of family obligations, and the law backed it.
This man pleads the very first of all human duties. What could seem not only reasonable, but so binding on him, as to go first and bury his father? Did not the law command the child to honour father and mother? Certainly; but One was there greater than the law. The God who gave the law was calling. If He says, "Follow Me," faith gives up everything — father, or mother, or wife, or children — for Christ's sake. Jews counted a man who did not bury his father with proper care and affection as unworthy of any place among them.
Elsewhere the Lord rebuked religious leaders for pushing family duty aside. Commentators see no contradiction here:
In the one case, He set the divine call above the claims of family duty. In the other He condemned the Pharisees, who set human tradition above family duty. That reversal had no adequate warrant. God established the responsibility of children to their parents, and God alone can set it aside.
The Lord's reply uses the word "dead" twice, and not in the same sense both times.
The Lord's answer to him is, "Leave the dead to bury their own dead. But as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God." That was a puzzling answer to a person whose heart was divided. This is how the Lord tests faith. He does not put things in the simplest possible form, above all where a person allows something that hinders. So He says, let those who are spiritually dead bury their natural dead — but you go and announce the kingdom of God. This man was not only called to follow Jesus, but to be a witness for Him.
The verse is not a licence to neglect parents. Commentators are careful to keep the balance:
The claims of natural relationship can be a serious hindrance to following the Lord with an undivided heart, but His claims come first. This does not contradict 1 Timothy 5:8, "if anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for members of his household, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever." A person can do the Lord's work and provide for his own house at the same time. But this man wanted to delay doing the Lord's work until he was completely free of any obligation to his father.
The excuse was defensible. That is why it is a warning.
There cannot be any "firsts" if we are disciples, because the Lord must be first. It was a perfectly legitimate thing to do — "let me first go and bury my father." We would all say, "Well, that man had a very good reason for going and doing this." But our lives will come under review. Then the Lord will decide what was right and what was wrong. He will decide it by how we lived in relation to Himself.
- The call comes first. The volunteer felt no difficulty. The man Christ called felt it at once — a sign his faith was real.
- "First" is the problem word. He never says no. He puts something ahead of the One calling, and that alone exposes his heart.
- The claim outranks the law. God commands children to honour father and mother. Only the God who gave that command can set it aside.
- The commission replaces the delay. Those who are spiritually dead can bury the natural dead. The one Christ calls goes and proclaims the kingdom.
- No "firsts" survive. Family still counts — 1 Timothy 5:8 stands. But no good duty excuses putting Christ second.
But Jesus said to him, Suffer the dead to bury their own dead, but do *thou* go and announce the kingdom of God.
Jesus calls a man to follow Him, and the man asks to bury his father first. The reply sounds harsh, and it raises two questions: who are the "dead" here, and why must a funeral wait?
The man's request was no weak excuse. Burying a father was the plainest duty a son could have.
The flesh is so bold in its offers to go after Jesus, but in reality it is slow to follow when He calls. This man, though called, feels the difficulties at once, and says, "Lord, let me first go and bury my father." You find this in true believers. When a person has Christianity before his mind as a theory, all seems easy. He thinks he can do anything. Usually, where the faith is genuine, a person feels the difficulties; and this man pleads the very first of all human duties. What could seem more reasonable, or more binding on him, than to go first and bury his father? Did not the law command the child to honour father and mother? To be sure; but One was there greater than the law.
The Lord's reply tests the man, and it turns on one word. He uses "dead" twice, with two different meanings.
This was a test. Christ knew everything, and He called this man at that exact moment for a reason: was Christ worth more to his soul than anyone or anything else in the world? The Lord's answer to him is a puzzling one to a person who was not single-minded. This is how the Lord tests faith… So He says here, "Leave the dead to bury their own dead" — that is, let those who are spiritually dead bury their natural dead. It was not only that this man was called to follow Jesus, but to be a witness for Him, to be a proclaimer of God's kingdom.
The two deaths differ, yet the Lord's word ties them together.
Here it was only a dead father needing to be buried. The living disciple, the messenger of life, was not to be kept in the region of death, away from delivering his gracious message. Let the dead attend to death, is the Lord's word. The two deaths spoken of here are not the same, yet there is a simple and clear connection between them.
People misuse this verse. It does not excuse anyone from caring for his family. The fault here was the delay.
The Lord's words, "Leave the dead to bury their own dead" (v.60), show that those who have no spiritual life can occupy themselves with natural matters only. But when the Lord calls someone to preach the kingdom of God, he is to obey. The Lord allows no excuse. This does not contradict 1 Timothy 5:8: "If anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for members of his household, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever." One can do the Lord's work and provide for his own house at the same time. But this man wanted to put off the Lord's work until he was free of every obligation to his father.
Another writer puts it from the other side.
This does not mean that we are to give up natural relationships. God formed them. We are to bring the grace of Christ into them. But we must not let them hinder us in the path of God's will.
Jesus does not only turn the man down. He sends him out, and the errand carries its own dignity.
The sense of the dignity of His ministry was strong in Him. He answers, "One fellow creature may do the service of the dying for the dying. But you go and do the work of a living Saviour in the world."… "Leave the dead to bury their own dead. But as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God" — go and do My business, the business of life, and not of death, in a world struck by sin.
The urgency behind the command comes from Christ Himself.
Meanwhile, for this very reason, the preaching of the kingdom was the only thing His unwearying love could do. The dead (to God) might bury the dead. The man who was called, who was alive, must be taken up with one thing — the kingdom — to bear witness to it. And that without looking back, the urgency of the matter lifting him above all other thoughts.
- Called — Christ called this man Himself. The call came as a test: was Christ worth more to him than anyone else?
- Claimed — his excuse was the most respectable duty a son could have. But One greater than the law was speaking.
- Clarified — "the dead" who bury the dead are the spiritually dead. Those without divine life can attend to the affairs of death.
- Commissioned — the man is not left with a refusal but with an errand: the business of life, not of death. A messenger of life does not stay among the graves.
- Concentrated — the kingdom asks for one occupation, without looking back. That never cancels caring for your own family. It only refuses delay.
And another also said, I will follow thee, Lord, but first allow me to bid adieu to those at my house.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
But Jesus said to him, No one having laid his hand on [the] plough and looking back is fit for the kingdom of God.
A man offers to follow Jesus. He asks only for time to say goodbye at home — an ordinary courtesy, not a refusal. The Lord answers with a picture from the field, and it raises two questions. Why does so small a delay matter? And what does it mean to be "fit for the kingdom of God"?
His request was the mildest kind of delay. Even so, one writer notes, the Lord will not let it take first place.
Here we have someone who lets the pleasant courtesies of life come "first." It was no serious delay. It was merely paying them ordinary politeness. But the Lord insists on the absolute giving up of every hindrance. If Christianity is anything, it must be everything. It allows no rivals and no delays. It could not be the kingdom of the true God if it tolerated His servants turning aside even a little. Christ is the first and the last. He must be everything to the heart, or through the schemes of the enemy He becomes nothing.
The picture comes from a farmer working a light hand plough. Everything depends on where his eyes are.
Anyone holding a hand plough must give his whole attention to the work. He keeps his eyes forward, both to make a straight furrow and to keep the plough at an even depth. If someone has no real purpose to follow the path of discipleship steadily and without swerving, he is not fit for the kingdom of God.
Another writer draws the line from the eyes to the feet — the direction of a look becomes the direction of a life.
He would gladly put his hand to the plough — take up service — but his heart was "looking back" to the home, and we go the way we look. How impossible for a worker to plough his furrow while walking one way and looking another. The service of the Lord demands an undivided heart.
The man's problem was not that he loved his family. It was that his heart had not left them. One writer looks under the excuse and finds self at the end of it.
This case shows that those at home were not left behind in his heart. He felt he had to break with them, and yet his heart lingered. … If Christ is not first and last, He will always be last, for faith is not at work. … People may talk about the claims of affection. Yet it is not really family affection alone; what they feel is the end of it that ties back to self.
Writers link the words to Elisha, who was literally ploughing when Elijah called him and asked to kiss his father and mother goodbye (1 Kings 19:19-20).
Now this was most natural, and, as some would say, kind and affectionate. But sadly, pleasantness and natural affection have often kept people from entering the Lord's service as they should.
The same writer is careful to add what the Lord is not saying, and where the power to obey Him comes from.
It is not that the Lord sets aside the mercy of a home on earth, the claims and duties of natural relationships, or the affections that belong to them. He puts His own claims first, and looks for a devotedness that surrenders everything to Him. Only in the light of the glory of Christ in the kingdom of God, and in the power of the grace of Christ, will we be able to refuse our sinful nature in its many forms, the selfishness of our hearts, and the claims of nature.
The word "fit" alarms many readers. One writer sets this verse beside Colossians 1:12, where the Father "has qualified you to share in the inheritance of the saints in light." The two belong to different lines of truth.
The first statement — being made fit for the inheritance — is absolute and unconditional. The second — fitness for the kingdom — is strictly conditional. To look back from the plough shows unfitness. The first is the fruit of God's pure and boundless grace. … The second lies wholly in the line of responsibility — holding the plough of service. It depends on faithfulness on our part.
That distinction turns the verse into a healthy warning rather than a threat.
He knows he is running a race. He knows he is weak and easily turned aside, prone to look back and spoil his furrow, and possibly to lose the prize on the coming day. This is all deeply serious, but he has no question about the inheritance. That is settled. … So he seeks grace, in order to be as fit for the kingdom as he has been made fit for the inheritance.
- Eyes. The gaze guides the plough. A worker who looks back cannot cut a straight furrow, "and we go the way we look."
- First. The man's fault was one word — "first." A small courtesy put first is still a rival, and Christianity "allows no rivals and no delays."
- Heart. He was willing to leave home, but his heart lingered there. Natural affection is not condemned, yet it must not outrank the Lord's claim.
- Fitness. Fitness for the kingdom depends on faithfulness in service. God makes us fit for the inheritance by pure grace, and that is never in doubt.
- Aim. So the verse warns of a spoiled furrow and a lost prize, not a lost inheritance. It calls for the undivided heart that ploughs straight.