Luke 14:25–33
Now large crowds were traveling with Jesus; and he turned and said to them, “Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple. For which of you, intending to build a tower, does not first sit down and estimate the cost, to see whether he has enough to complete it? Otherwise, when he has laid a foundation and is not able to finish, all who see it will begin to ridicule him, saying, `This fellow began to build and was not able to finish.’ Or what king, going out to wage war against another king, will not sit down first and consider whether he is able with ten thousand to oppose the one who comes against him with twenty thousand? If he cannot, then, while the other is still far away, he sends a delegation and asks for the terms of peace. So therefore, none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions.”
As I read through the Luke’s gospel preparing for this lectionary, I was struck by the increasing number of people that flocked to hear and see Jesus. They witnessed his power to heal and willingness to challenge oppressive systems and they wanted in. They heard him preach a gospel that turned the social order upside-down, preaching blessing on those who usually experienced woes and woes for the privileged. When we get to chapter 14, Luke says that many crowds were following Jesus.
For the abolitionist preacher, Jesus’ response provides insight into how we respond to increased interest in prison and police abolition. Instead of downplaying the social and material costs of pursuing his gospel, even the physical risks, Jesus admonishes them to face the radicalness of his message head on. This reminds me of Mariame Kaba’s response to the increased interest in police abolition after George Floyd’s murder: “Yes, We Really Mean Abolish the Police.” Kaba’s writing on abolition is always nuanced, acknowledging that we are working within a system we seek to abolish, but she is also careful to make sure we hold clearly within our work the need to completely uproot this oppressive system.
What Jesus and Mariame Kaba remind us, is that we cannot allow ourselves to remain attached to prisons or policing or confuse reform with abolition. This might alienate friends or family. It might not make for the best marketing. It certainly threatens economies that rely on the prison-industrial complex and raises fears (well-founded or not) for many people around their physical safety and their ability to keep their personal property secure. While some of these concerns are addressed within abolitionist organizing (not profiting off of prisoners, but certainly valuing people’s physical well-being), they are addressed within a framework that wholly disavows punitive and violent methods of addressing harm. In the same way, Jesus is clear that we must completely detach from and disavow the oppressive systems of this world in order to be his disciple. We put our faith in the promise of God’s kingdom, even when it seems foolish. We continue to pursue new ways of living in the world, meeting each other’s needs, and dealing with conflict, even when it feels risky. At times it might really be risky and it will demand a lot of our time and resources. If we advocate for transformative justice and are not willing to put in this work, we will certainly fail and look like fools. For this reason, Jesus doesn’t encourage the crowds by minimizing these costs. Instead, he admonishes them to “count the cost” and seeks followers that will whole-heartedly put their faith in the gospel he is preaching. When we share the good news of transformative justice may we do likewise.
Sarah Lynne Gershon (she/her) is an MDiv/MTS student, DOC pastor, and lives at the Bloomington Catholic Worker.