Matthew 8:18–22

He hides Himself. Until the moment when He will show judgment to the Gentiles, He does not raise His voice in the streets. These displays of power draw men to Him, but they do not deceive Him. He never departs in spirit from the place He has taken. He is despised and rejected by men. He has nowhere to lay His head. The earth had more room for the foxes and the birds than for Him.

It shows us that following a rejected Christ is not an easy path… As far as the picture of God's dealings goes, I would say it is the Lord leaving the earthly people. He is showing that the walk of faith is not a path acceptable to flesh and blood.

Between the command to cross the lake to the other side (Matt. 8:18) and the storm that arose during that crossing (vv. 23-27), Matthew places what really happened after the Transfiguration. This brings out the circumstances the King was in. "Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head." While He was rejected like this, His claim on anyone who would follow Him was absolute. It meant, too, that His followers would find themselves on a storm-tossed sea while He seemed not to notice their danger.

This is the first time He uses the expression "Son of Man." "Son of Man" is the title of Christ as rejected or glorified. There is no question which of the two it is here. Even His own people will not have Him. And He is going away to the other side — He must leave them. But a man offers to follow Him. The Lord knew all that was in his heart — a merely worldly Jew, who thought that by following Jesus he would get a good place with the Messiah. The Lord tells him He had no place to give him. There was not even a nest for the Messiah.

There were those who owned His claims and they followed Him in the ship. Whatever it cost, they would be with Him. They found themselves in His company outside the nation, tossed on the waves in a storm that threatened to swallow them. Whatever it looked like, no storm could harm them in His company. "When you pass through the waters, I will be with you" (Isa. 43:2).

When did this really take place? On the evening of the day when Jesus spoke the seven parables of Matthew 13. That was before the transfiguration, but long after the other events mentioned in this chapter. Mark makes this clear in the chapter that records the parables (Mark 4)… "On that day, when evening had come, he said to them, 'Let us go across to the other side.'" There need not be any question that this is the same scene. But it is brought out in an entirely different connection.

It seemed like 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 man 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 plainly the greatest presumption. Yet man sees no presumption in it.

The incidents in verses 18-22 show us this: not only our deliverance, but our discipleship too, must come at the call of His authoritative word. A certain scribe volunteered to follow without having received His call. The Lord at once showed him what would be involved in following such a One as Himself, for He was the homeless Son of Man. But on the other hand, His call is enough.

No one 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 we need to those who ask Him; but He goes before us.

Something in our blessed Lord had attracted this man, and he wanted to follow Him. But he saw no difficulties in the path, no refusal of self, and no cross. On top of that, he thought he could follow in his own strength wherever the Lord might go. At once he met the cross — the character of the path, and the rejection and loss it would involve. He disappears, and is never heard of again.

This man was a self-seeking scribe, whose mind was full of idle dreams of a kingdom about to be set up. Having seen the display of divine power, he selfishly wants to follow Jesus. No doubt his expectations were earthly gain, riches and glory. In this he may well stand as a picture of the nation of Israel itself. The Lord then gives His answer. It showed the scribe how perfectly He understood his heart and read his thoughts. We hear nothing of the scribe afterwards.

It is the first sign coming from His own lips of His rejection, and for the first time in this Gospel He speaks of Himself as "Son of Man." This title belongs to Him both in His rejection and in His exaltation.

The scribes would follow such a one as the doer of miracles. But He had not lost sight of one thing, and would not let others lose sight of it: He is the rejected One, hidden and despised in the world. "Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head." Anyone who follows Him must follow Him with nowhere in this world to go, and must follow Him for His own sake only.

Here is a man who chooses to follow Him. There are many who do so. It is a fearful thing to tell an unsaved soul to follow Jesus. For he is dead in sins, and needs life and righteousness. If he has these, then his duty is to follow His steps. The Lord knew this man's heart, and knew he was after present advantage.

Notice the care with which the Spirit of God leaves out all reference to this: "And a certain scribe came." There is no note of when he came, only that he did come.

The Lord knew all that was in his heart — just a Jew thinking in earthly terms, who hoped that by following Jesus he would get a good place with the Messiah. The Lord tells him He had no place to give him. There was not even a nest for the Messiah... The Lord unveils his heart and shows how it deceived itself by seeking something for itself. Meanwhile He Himself did not have even a patch of ground that the lowest and most troublesome creature He had made might have.

The answer Jesus gives is significant. It is the first hint of His rejection from His own lips. And for the first time in this Gospel He speaks of Himself as "Son of Man." This title belongs to Him both in His rejection and in His exaltation. Of course, here it refers to His rejection.

He takes up this title when Israel's attitude of hostility and rejection becomes clear. In Matthew 8 it speaks of His lowly path — "the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head." But it is also the title of His official glory. Under that title all things are put under His feet, as Psalm 8 and Hebrews 2 state.

He had every personal claim, and He had kept His original place where Adam lost his. With all this, I say, He took nothing. He had lost nothing, but still He would have nothing. By right, no lack or sorrow could fall on Him. The earth He had a right to walk on was not one of thorns and thistles. Yet He chose to take up all sorrow and lack, and walked as one acquainted with grief all His days.

The One who said, "Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head" (Matthew 8:20; Luke 9:58) never found a place in this world to lay that holy head. Only on the cross did He say, "It is finished," and lay down His head. (It is the same word in the Greek New Testament, and these are the only times it is used in this way in the New Testament.)

The foxes have places where they find shelter when hunters are after their lives. The birds have roosting places where they are safe. But for the Son of Man there was to be no refuge. He came to die on the cross.

The scribes would follow a man who worked miracles. But He had not lost sight of this, and would not let others lose sight of it: He is the rejected One, hidden and despised in the world... Anyone who follows Him must follow Him with nowhere in this world to go to, and for His own sake only. So it means following Him completely — with a complete break from everything belonging to the life of the flesh, however near or dear.

There is only one man who never had a place of rest... "Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head." 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.

Again, when we listen to another — and now it is one of His disciples — faith at once shows how weak it is. "Let me first," he says, "go and bury my father." The man He had not called promises to go anywhere, in his own strength. But the man He called feels the difficulty, and pleads a natural duty before following Jesus. Oh, what a heart is ours! But what a heart was His!

The word "first" — let me first go and bury my father — shows something put ahead of Christ. It is as though the man said, There is something I put before Your calling. Death had come in, and this very plea told Christ 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 one of redemption — of being lost or saved — you must give yourself up to 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? To be sure; 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 for Christ's sake — father, or mother, or wife, or children... This was a test. Christ knew everything, and He chose that exact moment to call him for a moral reason. The question for him was whether Christ meant more to his soul than anyone or anything else in the world.

Faced with this difficulty the man says, in effect, "I am ready to answer the call, but let me first wait until my father has died and I have carried out my last duties to him." This does sound reasonable. The father had the first claim in nature. Christ, however, must have the first claim in the new life... The Lord is not denying or setting aside the claims of nature, but He is asserting His own paramount claims. The man did not see that if the Lord calls, His claims must come first. He also did not see that the One who calls can at the same time care for the father left behind.

It may be this man thought, "I have been a dutiful son. I would like to do all I can for my father till he is gone. Then I shall be free." But the Lord's claims come first. When it is a case of the Master's claims against those of nature, the Lord must have first place. He says, "Follow me." A disciple is a follower. "Let the dead" — that is, those who are dead in trespasses and sins — "bury their own dead," those who died naturally.

Whoever follows Him must follow Him with nowhere in this world to go to, and follow Him for His own sake only. And so it means following Him absolutely. It means a complete break with everything belonging to the life of the flesh, however near or dear. "Let me first" will not do, though it seemed the strongest possible claim.

This does not contradict 1 Timothy 5:8, "But 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 the Lord's work until he was free from every obligation to his father.

To a disciple who said, "Lord, let me first go and bury my father," the Lord could say, "Follow Me, and leave the dead to bury their own dead." Notice the difference. Where Christ calls, nature may feel great reluctance, trial, and struggle. Still the word is, "Follow Me." Put a thoroughly worldly man in front of the gospel, and there is none of this holding back — none of this trial. He thinks it is all beautiful, but it does not take hold of his soul.

So He says here, "Leave the dead to bury their own dead." That is, let those dead in spirit bury those dead in body. And He adds, "But you go and proclaim the kingdom of God." Christ called this man not only to follow Him, but to be a witness for Him, a proclaimer of God's kingdom. How could it fare with others, if there was not faith in him to give up all for Christ?

In this case it was only a dead father needing burial. The living disciple, the messenger of life, was not to be held back in the region of death, away from delivering his gracious message. Let the dead attend to death, is the Lord's word.

A father had the first claim in nature, and above all to a Jew. But Christ says, I am calling you out in the power of life. I am putting in My claim for the life I give you, and it breaks every bond here. It is a question of life in the middle of death. The word "first" — let me first go and bury my father — shows something put before Christ. It is as though the man said, There is something I put before Your calling.

This man pleads the very first of all human duties. What would seem not only reasonable, but so binding on him, as first to go 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 God who gave the law was calling. If He says, Follow Me, faith gives up everything — father, mother, wife, or children — for Christ's sake.

This does not mean 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.

"Leave the dead to bury their own dead" is a clear call. Lay aside everything that would delay obedience to His call — even a thing that looks like duty itself. Even Abraham let his father take the lead, though the call had come to Abraham himself. So we read that "Terah took Abram his son... to go into the land of Canaan." What came of it? "But when they came to Haran, they settled there." While Terah was alive, they never reached the place they had set out for.

In the next verse, the Lord shows that He will not have a divided heart. It may be this man thought, "I have been a dutiful son, and I would like to do all I can for my father till he is gone; then I shall be free." But the Lord's claims come first. He says, "Follow me." A disciple is a follower.