In J. I. Packer’s introduction to John Owen’s The Death of Death in the Death of Christ, Packer notes that he feels that what Owen writes is a corrective to a “new gospel” that Packer saw. The gospel that he saw Owen declaring (and the one Paul declared) was a gospel that taught men that they are completely helpless and hopeless apart from God’s grace, but in God’s mercy they could be made those who worship God, center their lives around God, and glorify God in everything they do. In the “new gospel” that Packer began seeing in churches, he saw that the “whole perspective and emphasis of gospel preaching had changed.” Now, the gospel was presented as simply a means of meeting men’s needs, helping them to have a better life, and be happy. He wrote, “One way of stating the difference between it [the “new gospel”] and the old gospel is to say that it is too exclusively concerned to be ‘helpful’ to man—to bring peace, comfort, happiness, satisfaction—and too little concerned to glorify God. . . . Whereas the chief aim of the old was to teach people to worship God, the concern of the new seems limited to making them feel better. The subject of the old gospel was God and his ways with men; the subject of the new is man and the help God gives him. There is a world of difference.”1
One of the fears I have in my own life and for us as a church is that we can begin to slip over into that kind of thinking that Packer describes when talking about this “new gospel” that he saw and heard being preached. This subtle movement into an unbiblical perspective shows itself when we begin finding ourselves angry or disappointed with God because he hasn’t made our lives or the circumstances of our lives all that we thought they should be. It shows itself when we are unwilling to make painful and sacrificial decisions with our time, money, and energy simply because this would be honoring to God and instead decide to do otherwise because we feel that we are owed some greater pleasure in regards to what our time, money, and energy can get us. It shows itself any time we forget that the greatest blessing any of us can have is the blessing of being able to pursue in this life loving the Lord our God with all of our soul, heart, mind, and strength instead of honor, riches, fame, or comfort.
So what we need periodically in our lives is to hear the words of Christ in our ears in such a way that they push back against this tendency to become self-focused and self-centered. We need to hear of Christ’s demands, of what he commands us to do, and of what matters most to him about our lives. And it’s good for us periodically to hear these things and feel a bit uncomfortable, a bit uneasy, a bit offended and challenged perhaps. Or we might simply say convicted. Those moments of conviction are a gracious reminder to us as God’s children that he is not leaving us alone and letting us go our own way. It is a reminder to us of his love for us, correcting us, turning us, and bringing us back to a pursuit of worshiping and glorifying God.
We need that. We need that as individuals, and we need that as a church. And that is what we get in Matthew 8:18-34. Last week, as we looked at Matthew 8:1-17, we saw Jesus, as he came down from preaching the Sermon on the Mount, immediately confront sick and needy individuals, healing them and demonstrating his authority over sickness. In Matthew 8:18-34 we find Jesus in three situations that can make us feel a bit uncomfortable; three situations where we see that who Jesus is cannot be captured in a precious moments figurine set. In the first, we have two individuals who express interest in following Jesus and he seems to do his best to push them away. In the second, the disciples find themselves in the middle of the sea where a storm arises, so they wake of Jesus, and are greeted with rebuke. In the third, Jesus frees two men from demonic oppression, and is ultimately told by the townspeople that they do not want him around. And these three stories are linked together in Jesus taking a trip over the Sea of Galilee to a Gentile town. We see the link in verses 18, 23, and 28, where if we put the three verses together, they read: “Now when Jesus saw a crowd around him, he gave orders to go over to the other side. . . . And when he got into the boat, his disciples followed him. . . . And when he came to the other side . . .”
So, what do these odd encounters where Jesus has these somewhat odd conversations that Matthew puts together teach us? Well, I think they teach us more about who Jesus is, what he demands, and what he desires. That is, with stories like these, Matthew is guarding us against forming an image of Jesus in our minds that isn’t really true and accurate. We’ve got to have a place in our understanding of Jesus where he says, “Let the dead bury their own dead,” where he rebukes his disciples in the midst of a storm on the sea, and where he does something that makes the townspeople want him to get out of town. So, what then do these three stories teach us? First:
In verses 18-22, Jesus has two individuals come up to him and request to follow him and inquire about following him. The first is a scribe, who says to Jesus, boldly, “Teacher, I will follow you wherever you go” (v. 19). Now, it would seem that this is the kind of response Jesus is looking for. But instead of happily receiving this scribe as a genuine follower, Jesus answers him, “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head” (v. 20).
Now, what was going on here? Well, first, let’s understand what Jesus is saying. He is noting that because of the nature of his ministry, wherein he travels from place to place, he doesn’t come back to his house every night and sleep. In fact, in the next story we’re going to find that Jesus will be sleeping in a boat as they’re crossing the Sea of Galilee. Jesus wants this guy to know that it’s not going to be a pleasant commitment if he indeed follows the Lord.
But why would Jesus say this? Well, perhaps one reason is because he knew what was in the man’s heart in a way that you or I might not. This, we will see is a common feature in Jesus’ ministry. He doesn’t always respond to people the same way. To the rich young ruler, he’ll tell him to sell everything he has and give it away, but he doesn’t say that to everyone. And to the rich young ruler, he never mentioned anything about being homeless. So, it seems like Jesus’ answer often reveals what he knows is in the heart of the other person. In this case, it may be important for us to recognize that this is a scribe making this request. That is, this is someone who should have been somewhat familiar with the Scriptures. Consequently, perhaps he realizes that if indeed Jesus is the Messiah, he’s going to be doing great things, triumphing over his enemies, and bringing blessing to what is cursed. He might be thinking, “If I follow Jesus, this is going to result in really good things for me.” But Jesus points out that following him will mean not having shelter every night. Jesus is making clear that following him comes with cost.
We might compare it to some extremely wealthy person coming into your life and you realize that this individual is not only extremely wealthy but generous. And you’re thinking, “I could use a few things; this relationship could really profit me.” So, you approach him about hanging out, and he says, “Sure, I’d love to. In fact, this is kind of an exciting day for me because I’ve decided to sell everything I have, take all my money and donate it to charity, and then stay the night at the local homeless shelter. Maybe we can hang out there together tonight.” That moment after hearing that reveals your heart, doesn’t it? That’s what Jesus is doing here.
In the second encounter, we find the same thing. Someone from the crowd of people that have been following Jesus approaches Jesus saying, “Lord, let me first go and bury my father” (v. 21). Now, this probably doesn’t mean that this man’s father has just died, and is about to go and literally bury his father. It probably means something like the man desires to care for his father until his father dies. Then, when he is able to bury his father, he’ll have more freedom, and then he can follow Jesus. But Jesus answers, “Follow me, and leave the dead to bury their own dead” (v. 22).
Now, Jesus’ answer is troubling at first sight, isn’t it? Is Jesus saying we shouldn’t care for our elderly parents? Of course not. He has and will command his followers to honor their father and mother. I think what he’s saying here is along the lines of what he means when he says that if anyone doesn’t hate his father and mother, then he cannot be a follower of Christ, meaning, if anyone is more committed to and devoted to their parents than the Lord, then they cannot be a follower of Christ. Following Christ may mean at times leaving your father and mother, and if you’re unwilling to do that in order to obey the Lord, then you can’t be a follower of Christ.
And in this man’s case in our text, if you’re telling Jesus that you’ll be his follower only after you get finished caring for your parents, then you can’t be a follower. Jesus demands that we follow him without delay and without having greater allegiance to something or someone else.
That is, Jesus makes clear that if you’re going to follow him, he demands your absolute allegiance and that this means you will sometimes be uncomfortable. Jesus demands that when he says, “Go,” you go. And going might mean leaving comfort and being homeless for a time. Jesus is simply not interested in us treasuring anything higher than we treasure obeying him. If obeying him means that you need to get rid of your computer, and you refuse to do so, then you can’t be a follower of Christ. If obeying him means you need to give of your money, and you’re unwilling to do so, then you can’t be a follower of Christ. If you say that you’ll follow him, but you want to first get your degree, or buy a home, or get married, or have some fun in your adolescence, then you can’t be a follower of Christ. Jesus demands our absolute allegiance, and that allegiance is to someone who will lead us to go through discomfort, suffering, and hardship. There’s simply no other way to understand this text. Second:
There are times as a parent when I’ve told one of my children to do something, and they’ve done it, but they’ve done it with grumbling and complaining. There are also times as a parent that I’ve told my kids to do something, and they wouldn’t do it because they didn’t trust me. For example, with each of my children, I’ve had to plead with them to jump into the pool so that I could catch them, and although I’ve gotten all of them to do it, every one of them hesitated, sometimes leaving me exasperated. And you and I have both done those same things as children. And what’s worse is that I’ve done that same thing in regard to the Lord. That is, I’ve obeyed him sometimes while grumbling and complaining. And I’ve hesitated in obeying him many times because I didn’t trust him to take care of me as I obeyed. But Jesus demands not only our absolute allegiance but also our full and complete trust. That’s what I think we see in this second episode in our text as Jesus and his disciples cross the Sea of Galilee.
Matthew tells us that as Jesus and his disciples were crossing the sea “there arose a great storm on the sea, so that the boat was being swamped by waves” (v. 24). That is, this wasn’t just a storm that rocked the boat and made them wet. The waves were such that they were crashing in, the boat was taking on water, and it looked like they might die out there. And Matthew adds, “But he [i.e. Jesus] was asleep” (v. 24).
So, you can see their panic. I mean, at this point, the disciples have no reason to think they’re not going to live except that they have Jesus in the boat with them. So, they wake him up, saying, “Save us, Lord; we are perishing” (v. 25). And he rebukes the winds and calms the sea so that they begin to realize that he’s greater than they even imagine, saying, “What sort of man is this, that even winds and sea obey him?” (v. 27), something that was only true of God in the Old Testament.
ut in the midst of all of that Jesus first rebukes them after they wake him in such fear, saying, “Why are you afraid, O you of little faith?” (v. 26). So, here’s the question: Why did they deserve rebuke? Why did Jesus charge them with having such little faith?
I think there are a few ways we could go in answering this. First, Jesus is God’s promised Messiah. He’s the Godman. They should have trusted that his mission wasn’t going to end with him and all of his disciples drowning in the Sea of Galilee. Second, they should have trusted that if Jesus was sleeping, there was nothing to worry about. This is one whom they’ve seen work miracles already, so it’s not like he was dependent on them waking him if indeed they were going to find relief from this storm. But what I find most compelling as a reason for the disciples deserving rebuke for lacking faith is in verse 18 where Matthew tells us, “Now when Jesus saw a crowd around him, he gave orders to go over to the other side.”
That is, these disciples were merely doing what Jesus said, and they should have trusted in him to accomplish what he wanted to accomplish with his orders. If he wanted them to get to the other side, they would get to the other side. And if they were out in the sea in the middle of a storm, it was only because Jesus wanted them to be out in the sea in the midst of a storm. He’s the one that gave orders to go out on the sea and go to the other side.
Simply put, Jesus demands of his followers that we trust him. And this doesn’t mean that we trust him because everything will go smooth. When Jesus commanded the disciples to go out on the sea and go to the other side, their trust shouldn’t be in the fact that they wouldn’t encounter any storms. But their trust should have been in Jesus to accomplish his purposes as they obeyed his commands.
So it is with us. Jesus demands absolute obedience to his commands. But obeying his commands doesn’t mean things will be easy. In other words, we sometimes think that there are negative consequences to sin but obedience will mean things go well. But that’s simply not the case. Sometimes couples walk through a time of courtship in great purity, waiting for the day when they will marry, and then they get married, and the wife in in a debilitating car accident. Sometimes the missionary family obeys the Lord, goes over seas, and one of their children contracts a disease and dies within months of them being there. Sometimes a lady will care for her elderly mother with Alzheimer’s in obedience to the Lord, and she’ll take years off of her life doing it because of the toll it takes on her. Sometimes the couple will adopt a child in obedience to the Lord and know struggles like they never could have imagined. And I could go on and on with examples that are real, right? Sometimes obedience to the Lord means being caught in a storm that you think is going to kill you.
And in those moments, Jesus demands that we trust him. He doesn’t mind us lamenting in prayer to him. In fact, I think that’s God-honoring. He doesn’t mind us weeping or asking the Lord to better our circumstances. Jesus himself knelt in a garden, feeling like his sorrow was going to kill him, and he asked his Father to let there be another way than the suffering he knew was about to come to him. But our Lord demands that we trust him. He demands that we not turn from him, not disobey him, not accuse him of wrongdoing, but trust him. Following Jesus demands our allegiance, absolute obedience, and trust.
But there’s one more challenging note I want us to hear from this text:
I want us to hear this for two reasons. First, I want us to hear this because I think it’s the point of the text. In verses 28-34, we read of an interesting story. When Jesus arrives on the other side of the sea, he encounters two men who are tormented by demons and have become so violent that no one could even pass through the area where these men dwelt in tombs. But as Jesus approaches, the demons immediately recognize him, crying out, “What have you to do with us, O Son of God? Have you come here to torment us before the time?” (v. 29). That is, the demons know they’re going to face judgment on the day of judgment, but they’re wondering if Jesus is coming to let them have a taste of what is coming.
So, they ask Jesus, since they know he’s going to cast them out of the men, to send them into a herd of pigs. Jesus agrees, saying, “Go.” And when they go into the pigs, they lead the pigs to run down a steep bank, into the sea, and drown. And when this happens, the herdsmen of these pigs run into town, and report everything that happened, including the demonically oppressed men being freed and the pigs dying.
Now, you would think that the people would come out and be very grateful to Jesus for freeing these men, but instead they come out to Jesus and beg him to leave. Why? My guess is because they valued these pigs as a source of income more than they valued their neighbors’ freedom from demonic torment. That is, they showed that what they valued was not on the same level with what Jesus saw as important. This is I think the point of the text.
A second reason why I want to state this point that Jesus cares more about our spiritual state than our passing comforts is because I think we’re very tempted to think like these townspeople. Now, I don’t necessarily think that we would grieve over the loss of pigs if it meant the salvation of these two men. But I do think that sometimes we would rather the Lord give us passing comforts rather than what might lead to our spiritual growth.
In fact, we might even hear the command to trust the Lord in the midst of the difficulties in our lives as saying, “Trust him to make things better.” But that’s not what we need to hear. What we need to hear is, “Trust that he’s working for your good, even though your circumstances might not change.” Trust him that he’s withholding no good thing from you but is working to craft in you a heart that loves him more than anything even though you might not find a spouse tomorrow, your infertility might never change, and that cancer not go away.
Sometimes the Lord’s love to us looks a lot different than we’d think. He simply loves us too much to give us a life of ease when he knows that the ease of life will lead us to wander from him. He loves us too much to let us be in positions where we feel like we don’t have to depend on him. But in those moments, you can trust him because he’s promised to work everything to the end of conforming you to the image of Christ. He’s simply saying to you, “Keep obeying and trust me.” And the main thing you can come back to in order to remind yourself that you can trust him is that your Father already sent his Son to die for you. And, as Paul reminds us, “He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?” (Rom. 8:32).
Jesus doesn’t invite us to a life of ease. He says to take up our cross and deny ourselves. And in the midst of that difficult path, he commands absolute obedience, demands that we trust him, and recognize that he treasures our spiritual growth more than passing comforts. But, in the end, he promises us eternal life where we will never taste pain, sorrow, sin, or death again. So, let us again this morning declare our faith in Christ and commitment to follow him in the face of whatever following him requires, as we come to the table. Amen.