“I’ll follow you, Jesus”

That’s what the teacher of the law said.

“Wherever you go, I’ll follow you.”

Jesus doesn’t really answer him. I mean, he tells the man that he doesn’t have a home, that he doesn’t have a place to lay his head, that he doesn’t have a family room or a garage or a  recliner, that he doesn’t have a home phone number or a twin-size bed or monogrammed pillowcases that he got for his wedding.

Jesus tells the man that to follow him is to be homeless.

And there is no response from the man.

Which means, of course, that we have no option but to wrestle with Jesus’ statement.

I mean, if we knew that that man walked away, we could feel proud because we would never do that. If the man had said, “I don’t care. I’m with you whatever,” we could feel proud that we are the same way.

But there isn’t any response. There isn’t any room for pride. There isn’t any possibility of comparing our response to his.

All we have is the opportunity to look in the mirror.

“I’ll follow you, Jesus.”

That’s what we say. That’s what we want to say. That’s the commitment we make. And then Jesus looks at us and says, “animals even have places to stay. But I don’t own anything.”

And we have to decide how much we are going to own, or how much we are going to let own us. How lightly can we travel? How quickly can we move? How much can we walk away from?

I don’t think that the next step is just words: “Yes, Jesus.” I think that the next step for the man was whether he literally walked behind Jesus as the sun was setting that night.