A Sermon Delivered on September 7, 2025 by The Rev. Patrick H. Wrisley, D.Min.
Both of today’s biblical readings deal with making choices. In Deuteronomy 30, Moses reminds the Hebrews that life with God requires a conscious decision. He declares, “Now choose life, so that you and your children may live and that you may love the Lord your God, listen to his voice, and hold fast to him.”[1]
For Moses, “choosing life” was not a matter of saying the right words or nodding politely during worship. It meant shaping daily life around obedience to God’s law. It meant living faith actively, not passively. What set Israel apart in the ancient world was that they embodied their faith showing through their behavior and ethics that they belonged to a liberating God.
Luke sets up our passage today with Jesus’ parable of a great banquet. A man throws an extravagant feast and personally invites his closest friends, but one after another they make excuses and don’t attend. Offended, the host tells his servants, “Forget the guest list. Go into the streets. Bring in the poor, the outcast, the forgotten. Compel them to come in.” Those who were first invited will miss the party because they refused to come.
Immediately following that parable, we hear today’s passage. Luke 14:25–33 is Jesus’ own “choose life” challenge to his people; it’s an invitation to follow him that comes with startling demands. Listen closely for the three times Jesus declares, “you cannot be my disciple if…”
Luke 14:25-33
25 Now large crowds were traveling with him, and he turned and said to them, 26 “Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers, and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple. 27 Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple. 28 For which of you, intending to build a tower, does not first sit down and estimate the cost, to see whether he has enough to complete it? 29 Otherwise, when he has laid a foundation and is not able to finish, all who see it will begin to ridicule him, 30 saying, ‘This fellow began to build and was not able to finish.’ 31 Or what king, going out to wage war against another king, will not sit down first and consider whether he is able with ten thousand to oppose the one who comes against him with twenty thousand? 32 If he cannot, then while the other is still far away, he sends a delegation and asks for the terms of peace. 33 So, therefore, none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions.[2]
Let’s be honest—this is tough to hear. Jesus says we must:
Hate father, mother, wife, children, brothers, and sisters—even our own life.
Carry a cross.
Give up all our possessions.
On top of that, he tells us to sit down and “do the math” before we dare to call ourselves, “Christian.” Did Jesus really say all that?
The problem for many modern readers is that we don’t always read the Bible carefully. We recognize exaggeration and rhetorical devices in everyday life but not so much with our reading of scripture. When a restaurant advertises “The World’s Best Hamburger,” we don’t take it literally. When a car dealership promises “no haggling,” we smile, knowing the sales manager will still try to tack on a few extras.
We instinctively recognize hyperbole, speech that is so exaggerated it’s clearly meant to make a point and not to be taken literally. Yet, when we open Scripture, we sometimes forget to read it with that same nuance and awareness.[3]
Is Jesus really commanding us to hate our parents and grandparents? Of course not. He is using deliberate overstatement to make his point crystal clear: to follow him, our love and loyalty to God must come before every other attachment, even our most cherished ones. In the Jewish world, family was everything; family was your lifeline, your community, your security. But Jesus says even those deep, sacred bonds must take second place to him. Methodist pastor Mark Ralls puts it well:
The point is not how we relate to members of our family, but how we respond to the call of God. A uniquely challenging divine call invites an unqualified human response.[4]
Jesus is not tearing down families; he is calling us to an even greater allegiance.
What about carrying a cross? Is Jesus telling us to build a wooden beam and haul it around town? Obviously not. Again, this is hyperbole. Jesus is warning that discipleship involves death; it means death to our ego, death to our unhealthy attitudes, death to our overly sated sense of pride.
Before there can be resurrection, there must be Good Friday. Discipleship means dying to anything that keeps us from loving God fully and loving our neighbor as well, whether it’s pride, prejudice, partisanship, greed, or self-centeredness.
Then Jesus gives two quick vignettes: a builder who runs out of money mid-project and a king who counts his troops before going to war. Both point us to take discipleship seriously and to reflect upon what it will require.
It’s like Jesus is asking:
Have you considered how following me will shape your lifestyle?
Have you thought about how it affects your family, your work, and your finances?
Have you done the math to see if you’re truly willing to stay the course?
Finally, Jesus says, “None of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions.” Is he demanding that we liquidate everything and live in poverty? No. But he is demanding that we hold everything loosely. Nothing that we own, not our houses, cars, boats, motorcycles, or investments can be allowed to come before our obedience to Christ.
Jesus is saying, “You cannot hold my hand if your fists are clenched around your stuff.” Everything we have belongs to God in the first place, entrusted to us for God’s purposes.
Beloved, Jesus is asking us to count the cost of following him. Discipleship is not a casual hobby or a box to check on Sunday morning. It’s a whole-life response to God’s grace. John Burgess reminds us:
The disciple must leave everything behind. One enters into a new life that breaks decisively with what one has been before.[5]
And then he quotes Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who spoke of costly grace: It is costly because it costs people their lives; it is grace because it thereby makes them live.
So, here’s the question: Does our Christian walk reflect a convenient, cheap-graced love for Jesus, or is it cruciform and reflect a holy love that costs us something?
This week, I invite each of us to name one concrete way we can embody discipleship with costly grace. What can we do or say this week that intentionally puts Christ first, even if costs us comfort, security, or pride?
Jesus is not calling us to a life of misery. He is calling us to an abundant, joy-filled life. It is a life that demands everything, because it is a life worth everything. What will you choose? Amen.
© 2025 Patrick H. Wrisley, Pastor, First Presbyterian Church of Glens Falls, 8 West Notre Dame Street, Glens Falls, NY 12801. Sermon manuscripts are available for the edification of members and friends of First Presbyterian Church of Glens Falls and shall not be altered, re-purposed, published, or preached without permission. All rights reserved.
[1] Deuteronomy 30:19-20a.
[2] New Revised Standard Version (NRSV). New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
[3] “Hyperbole is the opposite of understatement. It is a bold exaggeration used for dramatic effect. If you are an outsider unfamiliar with the linguistic rules of the game, it can be infuriating.” See, Feasting on the Gospels–Luke, Volume 2: A Feasting on the Word Commentary by Cynthia A. Jarvis, E. Elizabeth Johnson https://a.co/1sXJjRT.
[4] See Feasting on the Gospels–Luke, Volume 2: A Feasting on the Word Commentary by Cynthia A. Jarvis, E. Elizabeth Johnson, https://a.co/cWjXOdT.
[5] John Burgess, Feasting on the Gospels–Luke, Volume 2: A Feasting on the Word Commentary by Cynthia A. Jarvis, E. Elizabeth Johnson. See https://a.co/9qUfrjw.
patrick h wrisley 