And a scribe came up and said to him, Teacher, I will follow thee whithersoever thou mayest go.
A great crowd surrounds Jesus, and He gives the order to cross to the other side of the lake. Just then a scribe — a trained teacher of the law — steps out with a promise no one asked him to make.
The offer sounds like devotion. Commentators read it as a man overrating himself.
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.
Others in this same chapter were following. The difference is not the strength of their feelings but who spoke first.
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.
A call from Christ also brings what the follower does not have.
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 Jesus had attracted this man. He had not looked at the road ahead, or at his own strength for walking it.
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.
He calls Jesus "Teacher" and offers to go anywhere. The reply exposes an expectation he never put into words.
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.
Gaebelein points to the title Jesus takes in His reply.
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 scribe would attach himself to a miracle-worker. The Lord will not let that be the reason.
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.
The scribe offers himself before he has received anything from Christ. One writer warns where that leads.
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.
The conversation is placed in Matthew 8 for its meaning, not its date. Kelly notes that the wording itself leaves the timing open.
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.
- Called, not volunteered. The scribe offers himself. Real discipleship starts with Christ's call — and He supplies what that call needs.
- Confidence. "I will follow" sounds brave, but it measures the road by our own strength and forgets who Jesus is.
- Motive. Power drew him, and he wanted present advantage — earthly gain, not Christ Himself.
- Cost. The reply sets the cross in his path: a homeless Son of Man, followed for His own sake only.
- Order. Life and righteousness come first, footsteps after. Telling a soul dead in sins to follow Jesus reverses the gospel.
And Jesus says 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.
A scribe promises to follow Jesus anywhere, and the Lord replies by describing His own homelessness. His answer raises two questions: what "Son of Man" means, and what following such a Master costs.
The man's words sound generous. The reply exposes what he was after, and what the Messiah had to give.
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.
Notice how Jesus names Himself in the reply. Both the name and the moment He first uses it matter.
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.
That second half matters. The same name that marks Him out as homeless is the name under which everything will one day be His.
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.
The foxes and the birds are His own creatures. He owned the earth by right, and still went through it with less than they had — and that was His own choice.
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 words are not only about a bed at night. One writer follows the phrase to the single moment when it changed.
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.)
Even the animals named in the verse have somewhere to hide when they are hunted.
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 scribe wanted a leader worth attaching himself to. The answer removes every motive except one.
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 one more side to His homelessness. He went without rest for the sake of others.
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.
- No place — The animals He made had shelter; their Maker had none. He had no place to hand out to a man who wanted one.
- Chosen place — He had lost nothing, and by right no hardship was due to Him. Still He held nothing, and He chose to carry sorrow all His days.
- New place — Here in Matthew He first calls Himself "Son of Man." It is His first hint of His own rejection, and the same title under which all things will come under His feet.
- Costly place — He has nowhere to go. So you follow Him for His own sake alone, and leave everything else behind.
- Our place — He had no resting place on earth so that we could have one in God.
But another of his disciples said to him, Lord, suffer me first to go away and bury my father.
A man who is already a disciple hears Christ's call and asks for a delay. He wants to bury his father first. It is the most reasonable plea imaginable. So what happens when a real duty stands in the way of Christ's call?
The two men are opposites. One offered himself. The Lord called this one, and he felt the difficulty at once.
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!
Writers focus on the small word "first." It is not a refusal. It is an order of priority.
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 was no trivial excuse. Burying a father was the plainest duty a son could name, and the law itself 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? 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.
One writer spells out what the man was really asking for.
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.
The Lord's reply uses the word "dead" in two different senses.
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.
The One who calls has no home in this world. That shapes what following Him costs.
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.
One writer guards the verse from a common misuse.
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.
- Called — the volunteer felt no difficulty. The man Christ called felt it at once. Real faith feels the cost.
- First — the answer was not "no." It was "later." That one word put something ahead of the One who called.
- Duty — the plea was a real duty, the first of human duties, commanded in the law. But One greater than the law was speaking.
- Undivided — Christ will not share a heart. Where His claim and family's claim collide, His comes first. Yet He never treats family ties as worthless, and He can care for the father left behind.
- Follow — He calls us to follow Him for His own sake, down a homeless road, and He calls now.
But Jesus said to him, Follow me, and leave the dead to bury their own dead.
Two men come to Jesus one after another — one offers to follow, the other is called. The second asks only for time to bury his father first, and the answer he gets has troubled readers ever since.
Put the two men side by side. One writer says the difference between them is not what we would expect.
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.
The saying uses one word twice, in two senses. Grasp that, and it stops sounding harsh.
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?
Another writer asks what that disciple was being held back from.
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.
Why should Christ's call outrank a duty as basic as burying a parent? One writer answers by naming the kind of claim Christ was making.
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.
The man's plea named the most obvious duty a son could have, and the law had commanded it.
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.
One writer warns against pushing the words too far.
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.
"First" is a small word with a long shadow. One writer finds its cost in Abraham's own family.
"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.
One writer pictures the thinking behind the delay.
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.
- Called, not volunteering — the man who offers himself feels no difficulty. The man Christ calls feels the struggle at once.
- Dead twice over — one word, two senses. Let those dead in spirit bury their dead. The living have living work — a kingdom to proclaim.
- Life outranks nature — Christ claims the life He gives, and that claim breaks every bond here. Family is not worthless; grace still belongs there.
- First is the test word — "let me first" is where obedience stalls. Terah led the way, and they settled in Haran instead of Canaan.
- Then follow — the call is not a rule about funerals. A disciple is a follower, and Christ takes the first place.