Matthew 8:18–22
Jesus is getting ready to leave. He’s just healed many, drawn a crowd, and now He turns to cross the lake—toward a storm, and eventually, two men possessed by demons who are desperate for freedom (Matt 8:28–34). But before He can step into the boat, two people approach Him with two very different requests.
The first is a scribe—someone respected, educated, and apparently inspired by what he’s seen. “Teacher, I will follow you wherever you go.” It sounds bold. Sincere. But Jesus doesn’t respond with celebration. Instead, He says something jarring:
“Foxes have dens, birds have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head.”
It’s as if He’s saying: “You don’t know what you’re asking.”
The second person is already one of His followers. But he’s hesitating:
“Lord, let me go and bury my father first.”
That sounds reasonable—almost sacred. Yet Jesus replies:
“Follow me, and let the dead bury their dead.”
Why such radical answers?
These two men stand between the crowd and the core group of disciples. They're not strangers, but they’re not fully committed either. One is eager, but on his own terms. The other is called—but wants to delay.
Jesus’ response to the scribe reminds us that discipleship isn’t something we choose like a class or a career. It’s a calling. He’s not just a teacher; He’s the Son of God. We don’t initiate the relationship—He does. “You did not choose me, but I chose you.” (John 15:16)
And sometimes, for reasons we may not understand, that calling doesn’t extend to everyone in the same way.
The second man is different. He seems chosen—but hesitates. His request sounds like he’s asking time to attend a funeral, but scholars point out that “burying one’s father” was a phrase meaning: “Let me stay home until my father dies and I’ve fulfilled my family obligations.”
Jesus’ answer echoes the radical obedience of people like Abraham—who left his family behind (Gen 12:1), or James and John, who left their father in the boat to follow Jesus (Matt 4:21–22).
When Jesus says He has “no place to lay His head,” He’s not just talking about homelessness. He’s describing His mission. He’s constantly moving—preaching, healing, freeing, loving. His final resting place will be the cross. And that’s the real cost of following Him.
So, the real question becomes:
Are we willing to follow Him all the way to the cross?
Not just when it’s inspiring. Not just when it’s convenient. But when it means loss, discomfort, even rejection?
For many today, Jesus’ responses feel extreme—even harsh. But that’s because true discipleship has always been radical. It’s not about fitting Jesus into our schedule—it’s about surrendering our schedule, our security, even our relationships to follow Him.
And yet, there are always some who are drawn to that radical call—who know deep down that Jesus is worth everything. For them, following Him isn’t about conditions. It’s about saying yes, whatever the cost.
Are you one of them?