13th Sunday after Pentecost (Yr A)                                   September 7, 2025
Luke 14:25-35                                                                   Pastor Ryan Wolfe

“Look Before You Leap!”

It’s a scene in movies that finds itself repeated again and again, new for every generation. The hero is moving ahead in the story. Maybe they’re about to rescue the damsel in distress or they’re getting close to the treasure they were looking for. The goal doesn’t matter. They find themselves at the edge of a hole. And it’s here they face it – the fabled “leap of faith.” And whether it’s Miles Morales leaping off a building to find his Spiderman powers or Neo jumping across skyscrapers or Indiana Jones stepping out onto seemingly thin air they have to leap without knowing for sure that they’re going to be successful.

They call it a leap of faith because faith trusts in things that can’t be seen. And that’s true. Hebrews 11 says exactly that. But is Christian faith truly blind, in the sense that God asks us to believe and follow him without evidence? Are we really expected to just pick up our lives, turn away from the world, and follow him?

In one sense, of course, the answer is yes. We might think of Jesus calling some of the disciples to be fishers of men and then leaving behind work and family to go and do it. Or perhaps you remember Matthew the tax collector who gets up from his tax booth at Jesus’ simple invitation, “Follow me.” Now, I would argue that it’s likely that wasn’t the first time those disciples had met Jesus and heard him speak, but it is true that faith sometimes comes to a person in a single moment. I’ve shared with many of you a few of my favorite pastor moments when the Holy Spirit opens they eyes and heart of someone and fear and unbelieve turn to faith and hope. It’s awesome and God is indeed good in bringing his gift of faith to us.

But what then? It might surprise us to hear Jesus today tell those who would follow him as his disciples not to take a leap of faith but instead to look before we leap. To take stock of the situation and consider what the cost of being a Christian really is. To determine whether we are in fact willing to pay that price. Jesus’ words to us from Luke 13 again are words that hurt, but they cause wounds that heal. Being a Christian does come at a cost. It should. But today as we look before we leap we see that greater service and sacrifice are indeed worth it. In fact there’s no greater benefit that came at no greater cost.

In Luke 14 we find Jesus again on the road to Jerusalem at the height of his earthly ministry. His teachings and miracles had made him popular with the people. But Jesus knew that many in those large crowds around him were following him for the wrong reasons. They wanted to follow Jesus to make their life better. They wanted faith so that he could make things easier. So Jesus wakes them up with hard words. “’If anyone comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters—yes, even their own life—such a person cannot be my disciple. whoever does not carry their cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.’”

Well, that’s not very Jesus-like is it? The one who told us to love even our enemies wants us to hate those we hold most dear? No, of course not. I don’t think it’s too hard to understand that Jesus is talking about priorities. Jesus made the same point in Matthew 10 as he was sending his disciples out to preach, but he says it in a way that is maybe easier for us to understand. There he says, “Anyone who loves their father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; anyone who loves their son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me. Whoever does not take up their cross and follow me is not worthy of me.”

You see, it’s not about hating other people – it’s about letting our love for them become more important than our love for him. Jesus is saying, “If you’re not willing to stand up to your unbelieving spouse to do my will, then you cannot be my disciple. If you allow your daughter to sin obviously and openly but never admonish her out of fear then you are not worthy of me.” And if we need to listen to Jesus instead of family, how much more true is it if we’re unwilling to follow him instead of a boss at work, a friend at the game, or a stranger at the store. Jesus demands our first. Our best. Or we cant’ be his disciples. These are hard words, yes? Words that hurt.

To explain why he would say such a thing Jesus tells two parables, one that I think we deal with all the time and one that is a little more unique. In the first there’s a man who wants to build a tower. Before he builds it he figures out the cost and if he doesn’t have enough to finish it he doesn’t start it. While towers might not be so common today, we all recognize that even in a world of mortgages and banking and credit, we still shouldn’t begin a project or make a purchase we know we won’t be able to for. It would be foolish to begin the project knowing we couldn’t get it done.

In Jesus’ second parable he describes a king considering an upcoming battle. He determines whether his army is strong enough for the victory or not. And if he knows he’s going to lose, Jesus tells us that a smart ruler will seek terms of peace before the battle even starts. Why lose anything if there’s no chance of victory?

Jesus says in verse 33, “In the same way, those of you who do not give up everything you have cannot be my disciples.” Counting the cost…sacrifice…is essential to being a disciple of Jesus. And we need to hear this as Christians today more than anyone in history. Think of the sacrifices we read in Scripture or know from history that other Christians have had to make. When the Apostle Paul wrote his letter to the Romans, Nero was emperor, satisfying the mob by forcing arrested Christians into the arena to stand unarmed against lions and tigers and gladiators. In some nations today, identifying yourself as a baptized Christian will put your business, your family, and your life in jeopardy. We were reminded a week and a half ago here in the Cities that there is evil in the world, and that evil will strike at Christians.

But the kind of sacrifice Jesus is calling for isn’t persecution. 150 years ago right here in the US, our Lutheran forefathers often found themselves immigrants in a new land in a place without churches or pastors. They had to teach children the Christian faith on their own. They worshiped at home. At Salem, we have records of a time when the Lord’s Supper was celebrated only twice a year when a pastor could come around on horseback or train. Still today in our missions in Malawi and Zambia, Christians travel multiple hours on foot just to make it to worship in a cinder block hut with a tin roof.

That’s carrying a cross for Christ. Can you imagine that? Any of that? You see, I’m convinced that one of Satan’s best traps for us as American Christians is not the cross of pain but the cross of comfort. He knows that if he covers the bars of our cage with velvet and gold and marble countertops and calendars full of good things that we won’t even realize how many crosses we are failing to pick up. And then inconveniences become walls. And challenges become insurmountable stumbling blocks. Has this been hard enough to hear yet? Jesus says if we won’t hate these things that distract us we cannot be his disciples. His words hurt, because we need them to. We are all far too close the world and far too unwilling not just to be inconvenienced for Jesus but to sacrifice for him. The crowd in Luke 14 needed this message. You need it. I need it.

But what do we do with it? If you’re thinking at hearing these words that you cannot be a disciple of Jesus, that you need to jump out right now, look once more at the one who is speaking before you leap away. Do you recall where Jesus is headed in this chapter? To Jerusalem. Where this large crowd following him would eventually be calling for his crucifixion. They heard these hard words from Jesus but they refused to turn to him. And do you remember what Jesus said about them as the nails were driven through his hands? “Father, forgive them for they do not know what they are doing.” And then he suffered for their sins and ours on that cross of wood and paid the full price of redemption for them and for us.

I wish this sermon could be one of those long remembered, great messages that would inspire us all to go out and live as the best version of a Christian we can be. And, God willing, maybe you will take this to heart and reconsider the cost of following Christ. Maybe our faith can become a little less shallow. Maybe you will reorder your calendar a bit. Rethink your service at church. Reclaim your budget for God instead of the world. And if you do, it will be because we know that the cost we pay in this life doesn’t compare to the benefit we have in the next. Romans 8 again says it best, “I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.” Heaven is waiting! Who cares what we have to give up here?

But what I really want you to remember is this: There is no sacrifice in the life we live that even touches the sacrifice Christ made for us. Our life is a response of gratitude for a salvation already given. And yes, we are blessed to obey Jesus’ will in this life. Blessed to serve and sing and praise with all we are and have. But our greatest blessing? That home in heaven that waits for us and the peace we have here while we wait for it. There’s no price for that because the one who died and rose promises it freely, fully, and graciously. So while we today may stand at the edge once again being asked to make the leap of faith and dedicate ourselves more fully to the Lord, we don’t do it blindly. Christians, we’ve looked before we leap, and the face of our Savior shines brightly canceling out all fear. May God bless us in Christ’s life for us, and in our life for him. To God be the glory. Amen.