The Evangelist

No one outside of Christ should ever ask the question, “Are only a few people going to be saved?” without trembling in horror that they may not be in the number.

Luke 13:31-35

While Jesus is in the towns and villages, some Pharisees warn him that Herod is out to kill him. That’s interesting, isn’t it? The Pharisees want to kill Jesus too, but these Pharisees warn the Lord. Somehow they know that Herod wants the Lord dead as well. In that day if a king wanted you dead, there was not much you could do about it, so the threat is real and serious.

But the Lord is bold as an evangelist. First, he is bold in the face of threats. “He said to them, ‘Go tell that fox, “Look, I’m driving out demons and performing healings today and tomorrow, and on the third day I will complete my work”’” (v. 32). In other words, “I’ll leave town when I am ready.” Most of us would hear the threat and think, “Well, I guess the door is closed to the gospel here. This is a ‘closed country.’ I guess we should move on.” We would cloak our fear in religious language, but not our Lord. He does not wilt in the face of threats. Truthfully, there would be no closed countries if we had more of the Lord’s boldness in the face of danger.

Second, the Lord is bold in the face of his hearers. He says to his Jewish audience, “Behold, your house is forsaken” (v. 35 ESV). Today it’s popular for preachers to tell their hearers that God has a big house for them. Some people dedicate themselves exclusively to a message of positivity and prosperity. That’s not how Jesus evangelizes. He tells his audience that they are about to be cast out of the kingdom of God. Their place in God’s plan of redemption is in danger. They are about to be forsaken. The Lord is bold.

But the Lord is also broken. He knows that death awaits him in Jerusalem (v. 33). Yet the Lord weeps not for himself but for Jerusalem, the forsaken house (v. 34). It breaks the Savior’s heart that his people refuse to be saved. In 19:41, when Jesus finally reaches the city, he weeps over it. He wept over such hardness of heart that would refuse the free offer of an eternal kingdom.

The Lord is bold, but he is also broken. When we evangelize, we often have one but not both attitudes. We can be “bold” but uncaring. Or we can be “broken”—tender toward people—but fearful of man to the point of not telling them the truth. We want enough boldness to risk ourselves as the Lord does, but we also want enough brokenness to weep when people refuse to repent.

We cannot shrink away from hard truth if we are to be faithful evangelists. That’s unloving and untruthful. But we ought never speak hard truth with a hard heart. That’s unloving and misrepresents the truth. We are most ready to evangelize when we have both boldness and brokenness. Let us be that kind of church, marked by genuine zeal to tell people the good news, and as we go we leave a trail of tears, weeping over the lost. We need Jeremiahs among us—weeping prophets. We ought to ask the Lord to examine our hearts to see if we are either too hard and uncaring or too brash in a worldly boldness. May the Lord by his Spirit give us the correct temper of brokenness and boldness to declare the gospel.

Luke 14:1-24

Fourth, the Lord challenges people directly and personally. Luke 14:1 moves us to the third scene in our text. It’s another Sabbath. This time the Lord appears at a dinner party “at the house of one of the leading Pharisees.” This party includes all the important people of religious society. It’s not a friendly dinner party. “They were watching him closely.” They hoped to trap him.

The Lord is not seeking the approval of anyone there. He’s not trying to fit in, to schmooze, or to shape his message so people feel more comfortable. In fact, the Lord is in everybody’s face. As an evangelist, Jesus challenges people in every situation.

The Lord heals a man who had dropsy. He knows they’re watching him, and he knows it’s the Sabbath. It sure does seem like the Pharisees start a lot of conflict on the day of rest! This issue of the Sabbath just keeps coming up. Apparently you can’t change a Pharisee in one conversation. Religious hypocrisy is stubborn.

Jesus heals this man right in from of them. But before he does he asks the lawyers and Pharisees if it’s lawful to do so (v. 3). And after the Lord heals the man, he asks them if they wouldn’t do the same for a son or an ox (v. 5). Jesus designs the question to provoke compassion in them and to convict them with regard to the man with dropsy.

Jesus performs the miracle right before their eyes, and their hearts do not soften one bit. No one’s mind is changed. No one’s heart is changed. When we pray for evangelism and the work of God, let us not be like those Christians more concerned for miracles than the message itself. To a hard heart, miracles are no more compelling than words. No one is saved simply by witnessing miraculous events (see 16:30-31). Let us be more concerned that the Lord give our words power. The Lord may send miracles if he wants, but let us not trust in miracles but in the power of the gospel itself.

Jesus heals the man, and “They could find no answer to these things” (v. 6). But they did not need to give an answer to these things, to refute them. They needed to humble themselves and submit to the Lord. These scribes and Pharisees are just like the ones earlier in our text. They’re hypocrites. The Lord effectively says so to their face at a dinner party.

The Lord addresses the entire room now because he notices everyone attempting to sit next to the host. The Lord tells a story about sitting at the head of the table and getting bumped down to the bottom. It’s a story about pride and seeking prominence. Verse 11 delivers the punch line: “For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and the one who humbles himself will be exalted.” The way to be exalted is to seek humility. It is better to start low and allow others to exalt you than to start high and have others demote you. This is the way of the gospel and the kingdom: Those who seek humility find that God exalts them.

Then Jesus speaks to the wealthy. He tells them not to throw banquets for their rich family and friends. Instead, they should give a feast for the poor, the maimed, the lame, and the blind. That’s how they will be blessed—by showing generosity to those who cannot repay them and waiting for their reward in the resurrection. I’ll bet you that room full of rich and powerful people fell quiet. There were no poor, broken, or lame people there because there was no concern for the kingdom there. But our Lord wasn’t finished.

The Lord addresses those who seem to presume they’re going to heaven (vv. 15-24). Someone at the table said, “Blessed is the one who will eat bread in the kingdom of God!” (v. 15). Maybe he was like the man who asked whether there would only be a few in the kingdom, because Jesus answers him very similarly. Perhaps he assumed the wealthy would surely enter the kingdom. The Lord relates a story about a man who gave “a large banquet and invited many” (v. 16), but all the folks on his first list made excuses and said they couldn’t come. One person said he had to look after his newly purchased field (v. 18). Another person said he had cattle to tend to (v. 19). Someone else said he was on his honeymoon (v. 20). They all probably think they are in good standing with the man who invited them and can presume upon their position with him.

So the man tells his servant to go into the streets and alleys of the city and “bring in here the poor, maimed, blind, and lame” (v. 21). When there’s still more room, the man says, “Go out into the highways and hedges and make them come in, so that my house may be filled” (v. 23). If the kingdom is taken away from the worldly wise and powerful, it’s given to the poor and marginalized. That truth runs throughout this passage and Luke’s Gospel. We see it in verses 2, 13, and 21. The man in the story symbolized God. God has an underlying and continuing concern for the poor, the broken, and the mistreated of society. God fills his house with such people. “For I tell you, not one of those people who were invited will enjoy my banquet” (v. 24). The broken enter the kingdom, not the healthy. The more we admit our brokenness and need, the closer we get to the kingdom of God. The more we deny our brokenness and need, the further away we get from the kingdom of God.

When Jesus addresses the religious, the proud, the wealthy, and the presuming, he is not simply shaming people over small sins. Each of those attitudes is a major, damnable sin.

God shows kindness to sinners so that they might recognize his kindness and come to him. All of these sins are, in fact, major sins that keep men from the forgiveness and love of God. That is why the Lord addresses them directly and personally—even at a dinner party.

Let us redefine the term “hard to reach.” We often talk about “tough neighborhoods” and “poor neighborhoods” being “hard to reach.” But in Luke’s Gospel, the poor and the broken flock to Jesus. It’s those who trust in their riches, who seek power among men, who make religion a show who are “hard to reach.” Those are the ones who have their houses forsaken, who get cast out.

Jesus tells these same types of people that “tax collectors and prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God before you” (Matt 21:31). That is a real check on religious hypocrisy and pride.

The Lord says, “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of God” (Luke 18:25). It seems God thinks the wealthy are “hard to reach,” and the poor should be invited to come into his kingdom.

When we get this backward we think we need the favor of the rich while we hesitate to reach the poor. In the Bible Christ gives the kingdom to the poor and condemns the rich who trust their riches. If the area of D.C. east of the Anacostia River is known for its poverty and crime, we should rejoice! The Lord has a people here who will believe the gospel and enter the kingdom of God long before many people in suits on Capitol Hill.

God will fill his house (v. 23). He will compel people to come. The gospel is compelling, beloved. And it will be our neighbors who fill the halls of heaven!

Luke 14:25-35

Finally, the Lord tells people up front what it will cost to follow him.

It’s the fourth scene. “Great crowds were traveling with him” (v. 25). But a crowd is not the same thing as a church. You can gather a crowd through a lot of methods. You can only gather a church through evangelism and discipleship. So the Lord turned and began to address the crowd. He wants to be crystal clear about what it means to follow him.

Following Jesus requires four significant costs: (1) “Hate” our family and our lives (v. 26). (2) Bear our own cross (v. 27). (3) Count the costs (vv. 28-32). (4) Renounce all that we have (v. 33).

By “hate” your family, the Lord does not mean carnal hatred. “Hate” is metaphorical. We know that because almost everywhere the Lord commands his people to love. By “hate” he means to make them such a distant second in priority relative to him that it seems you hate them by comparison. In other words, for the Christian, the family cannot be an idol. We care for our family, yes. We provide for them as a demonstration of faith (1 Tim 5:8). But discipleship will call you to leave family and to reprioritize them in ways completely contrary to the world’s system. We must count that cost.

By bear your own cross, Jesus means we must join him in suffering. Every disciple has a cross to bear. We must pick it up and carry it daily. That cross is our dying. It’s our self-denial. It’s joining the Savior in his suffering so that we advance his kingdom. Jesus teaches that cross-carrying is essential—not incidental—to the Christian life. Our crosses look different. For one it’s family persecution. For another it’s remaining sexually pure while single. For another it’s refusing corruption. They differ, but we all have one. To be disciples, we must each carry our cross.

Counting the costs means considering what the Lord requires of you so you don’t turn back when you are forced to pay up. We must look squarely at the costs of following Jesus and then commit ourselves with that knowledge. Do you have enough to complete the tower or go to war? Will you persevere until the end no matter what? Will you deny yourself in order to serve him? Will you serve him no matter the family pressure? Will you endure hardship like a good soldier for the sake of knowing him? Or will you let those things make you ashamed and turn back? The point is not to count the costs and turn away if it’s too costly; it is to count the costs and embrace them because it is worth it. As someone has said, “Salvation is free, but it will cost you everything.” If we continue, then we are his disciples. If we turn back, then we never knew him.

In summary, following Jesus requires we renounce everything we have: our relationships, our desires, our lives, our possessions, everything. None of it will have a hold on us—only Christ. None of it will command our top loyalty—only Christ. None of it will keep us from serving Christ. Our death in discipleship is really our life in Christ. To follow Jesus as a disciple means we exchange the entire world for that kingdom to come.

Consider the alternative. If we reject our Lord’s cross and our cross, we become as worthless as ruined salt. In the ancient world salt was used as currency and as a preservative. But ruined salt had no value; neither does a “Christian” without a cross. We are properly tossed to the manure pile. The wasted life is the life that’s jealously grasped and forgets the cross. So the Lord asks, “For what will it benefit someone if he gains the whole world yet loses his life? Or what will anyone give in exchange for his life?” (Matt 16:26).

The blessed life is the life gladly surrendered and found again in Christ. That can be you today. You have a decision to make between life and death, blessing and cursing, between the kingdom of God and an everlasting hell. You may have life, blessing, and a kingdom that cannot be shaken or ruined or lost. You may have a life that truly is life, abundant and everlasting. Or you may have a death that is not “sleep” but torment, that is not a moment but everlasting, that is not quiet but agonizing. Hell is no vacation for the cool people of this world. Hell is not a place of partying but of suffering.

Christ has come into the world to save you from hell and to keep you for heaven. He lived in our place to provide our righteousness. He died in our place to atone for our sin. In his resurrection he proves he has defeated death and the devil. In his resurrection he proves there is acceptance with God and a life with God that will not end. He offers that life to anyone who will repent of sin, believe in him, take up their cross, and follow him. Today is the day of salvation. Hurry. One day the door to the kingdom will be closed. Do not delay.