The Cost of Discipleship

Some of the happiest moments of my life were my marriage and the birth of my children. My wife and I had a hard time having children, which made their arrival an even deeper joy. These are the most precious human relationships I have—marked by sacrificial love, the giving of self and the receiving of the other. A good and holy thing.

And yet, in today’s Gospel, Jesus tells us that even these must come second. He says, “If anyone comes to me without hating father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple” (Luke 14:26).

This is shocking language. But it’s important to understand the way this would have sounded in its original context. In Hebrew idiom, to “hate” does not mean hostility or bitterness—it means to prefer one thing over another. Jacob “loved Rachel and hated Leah,” meaning he preferred Rachel. Jesus is not commanding us to despise our families, but He is saying that even the most cherished human bonds must not take priority over Him.

Then He raises the cost even higher: “Whoever does not carry his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple” (Luke 14:27). We often hear these words in light of Christ’s redemptive death. But when Jesus first spoke them, the cross was only an instrument of humiliation and torture. To take up the cross meant embracing the fate of the despised and condemned. As Scripture says, “Cursed be everyone who hangs on a tree” (Deuteronomy 21:23; cf. Galatians 3:13). In other words, Jesus was calling His disciples to accept what the world saw as shameful, cursed, and hopeless.

Why would He say this? Because discipleship cannot be entered into lightly. We do not build a tower without first making sure we can finish. We do not march into battle without first considering whether we can win. Jesus wants His followers to understand the full cost before they begin.

The Book of Wisdom reminds us: “Who can conceive what the Lord intends?” (Wisdom 9:13). God’s ways are not our ways. He warns us that the body burdens the soul.  The problem is not that the world or the body are evil, but that in our brokenness, we fix our hearts on what does not last.

Saint Paul shows us what true discipleship looks like. He embraced imprisonment and finally death for the sake of Christ. And in doing so, he discovered something unexpected: even the lowly, the forgotten, and the despised are our brothers and sisters.

The world will not understand us when we follow Christ. The price will be high. But what do we gain? Not wealth, not comfort, not prestige. We gain Christ Himself. And in Him we learn to serve, to take the lowest place, and to love even those who hate us.

So when life consumes you—when work or money or even good responsibilities begin to dominate your heart—remember this: all of it is passing away. Do not cling to treasure that rusts, that moths destroy, that thieves steal. Keep your eyes fixed on the treasure that cannot be taken from you. The cross is heavy, but the end is worth any cost.