A farmer was teaching his young son how to plow. As his son sat in the tractor seat, his dad pointed to the far end of the field. “Now, son,” he said, “What you have to do is keep you eyes on one point at the far end of the field. Just focus on that one thing and drive straight toward it. And when you get to the other side of the field, your row will be straight as an arrow. Understand?”
The boy nodded in agreement. “Just keep my eyes on one thing and drive toward it. Got it, dad!”
So the boy started up the tractor. He looked keenly at the far end of the field. He picked a target to stare at, and then he slowly let out the clutch. The tractor began to roll down the length of the field. He was plowing a perfectly straight row. Dad felt a swell of pride in his heart.
But then, about halfway down the field, the tractor started to veer to the left. And not just a little bit. The boy was taking the tractor way off course. By the time he reached the far end of the field, he was disastrously off. Dad couldn’t believe it. How could his son have failed so miserably? He threw his hat to the ground in disgust and ran to the far side of the field.
Son, I told you to keep your eyes on one thing and drive right at it! What happened?
I did, Dad! I was watching a cow in the next pasture. Then she started to walk towards that tree over there. But I just kept following her like you told me to!”
In today’s Gospel reading from Luke, we find Jesus teaching a similar lesson; not about farming, but about discipleship. Luke writes that Jesus has “set his face to go to Jerusalem.” Now, that’s an unusual turn of phrase, isn’t it? “Set his face toward Jerusalem?” It sounds very intense. Maybe it’s the biblical version of putting on your “game face.” It means that Jesus turned himself…his whole self…his body…his mind…his heart…his spirit…toward his objective: Jerusalem. It means that Jesus is determined; he’s focused. He’s fully committed to the path ahead; a path that he knows leads to sacrifice and the cross.
But as Jesus journeys toward Jerusalem, he encounters several people who express interest in following him. Each, however, comes with conditions. One says, “I will follow you wherever you go!” Yet when Jesus warns him that following means facing uncertainty, sacrifice and even homelessness, this enthusiastic follower hesitates.
Another says, “Lord, first let me go and bury my father,” which seems reasonable enough. Yet Jesus’ response is surprising, even harsh: “Let the dead bury their own dead, he says.” And another insists on saying farewell to his family, to which Jesus famously replies, “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.”
Now, these interactions can make Jesus seem a little unreasonable or at least tough to follow. I mean, imagine applying that kind of absolute commitment to our everyday decisions. “Honey, I’d love to help with the dishes, but I’ve set my face toward finishing this season of Ted Lasso, and no one who puts their hand to the remote control and looks back is fit for binge-watching!” I’ve tried that. Trust me, it doesn’t work.
Jesus isn’t being harsh to discourage us. He’s highlighting something really important: discipleship, true discipleship, requires freedom from distractions and single-minded devotion. Just like that kid driving the tractor…without a total focus on a point out ahead of you, without knowing where you’re going, it’s easy to become distracted…to go off-course.
In our first reading today, from the letter to the Galatians, the Apostle Paul writes powerfully about freedom, reminding us: “For freedom Christ has set us free. Stand firm, therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery.” Paul urges us to live by the Spirit, which means choosing love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. But here’s the challenge: freedom doesn’t mean “anything goes.” Rather, it means being free to live focused on what truly matters.
Paul makes clear the purpose of this freedom when he says, “Through love become slaves to one another.” Slaves to one another? Didn’t Paul just say we’re free? This sounds contradictory at first, but it’s actually really beautiful. Paul is telling us that true freedom isn’t found in doing whatever we want, whenever we want. It’s found in willingly committing ourselves to serve one another in love.
I have entered a new phase of my life, in the last year or two. It is the phase when people who are friends of mine have begun to retire. (I keep telling myself “they’re so much older than I…they’re so much older than I…theyre…ugh…some of them are younger than me)… I had a conversation with one of these friends who told me that his retirement was more of a wakeup call than anything else. He’d thought about retirement as complete freedom: golf games, late mornings, and plenty of relaxing.
That lasted about two months. Then, he felt bored and restless. One day, he read about some volunteer opportunities here at church…and then that Community Pathways needed some help one day a week. He decided to give these things a shot, and within weeks, he found his purpose. He’s now busier than ever, yet he feels freer than ever before, because his life is now centered around meaningful, loving service.
This is exactly what Jesus calls us to: a discipleship where we freely choose to follow him, fully committed and undistracted by lesser things. It’s not always easy, but it’s always worth it. Our freedom in Christ is not freedom to ignore responsibilities or relationships; it’s the freedom to live with purpose, deeply rooted in love.
Discipleship isn’t something we master in a single day. It’s a daily commitment. Sometimes we do great, and other days the distractions get the better of us. But we keep going. We keep returning to Jesus, who calls us forward, promising to walk alongside us every step of the way.
And there will always be distractions. It is human nature for us to want to look back. We love thinking about what used to be. That’s honoring our history. And that’s not bad. Sometimes, however, this looking back turns into a desire to return to the past…to take us back to what was because it feels familiar…comfortable…even safe. That becomes nostalgia…and nostalgia can be a problem. Nostalgia denies that the world continues to change…that God continues to create…and that we are always becoming something new. And that’s not healthy for us as individuals…or for us as a people of God…the God who (as Paul says) continues to “make all things new.” God calls us to honor our past…but not to try and live within it, or recreate it. It becomes a distraction…that draws us off course.
Maybe today you’re feeling a bit like that kid driving the tractor, distracted by life’s demands and uncertain how to keep moving forward in faith. If that’s you, take heart. Jesus isn’t asking for perfection; he’s inviting us to respond to his love and grace every day, to set our faces toward him, and to experience the true freedom found in love and service.
There was once a little boy who decided to impress his father by mowing the lawn while he was at work. But when his father got home, the lawn looked terrible—uneven, missed patches, clumps everywhere. The boy, seeing his father’s face, quickly explained, “Dad, I only looked backward because I was checking how good I was doing!” His father laughed, hugged him tightly, and said, “Next time, just keep your eyes forward. The path always turns out better when you’re looking ahead.”
That’s Jesus’ invitation to you: Keep your eyes forward. Set your face toward Christ. Let go of distractions. Live in the freedom that Christ offers; the freedom to love deeply, serve willingly, and walk joyfully by the Spirit.
May you, empowered by the Holy Spirit, choose again today, and every single day, to follow Christ, keeping your eyes fixed firmly ahead…on him… committed fully to following. Turn your face toward Jesus. Turn your face…towards love.
Thanks be to God!
Amen.
Test Driving Theology 