But First...

"But First": When Delay Becomes Disobedience
There's a haunting pattern woven through the pages of Scripture—a pattern that reveals something uncomfortable about the human heart. It's not the story of villains or rebels. It's the story of reasonable people with reasonable excuses who never quite make it to where God is calling them.
In Luke chapter 9, we encounter three such people. Each one approaches Jesus with genuine interest. Each one expresses a desire to follow Him. And each one introduces their commitment with two devastating words: "But first."
The Road to Jerusalem
To understand what's happening in these encounters, we need to grasp the context. Luke 9:51 marks a turning point in the Gospel narrative: "And it came to pass when the time was come that he should be received up, he steadfastly set his face to go to Jerusalem."
That word "steadfastly" carries the weight of immovable resolve. Jesus isn't heading to Jerusalem because it's convenient or because the timing seems right. He's going in obedience to the Father, and nothing will turn Him aside. He's walking deliberately toward the cross.
Against this backdrop of absolute commitment, three people step into His path with their conditional offers of discipleship.
The Enthusiast Without Endurance
The first man bursts onto the scene with bold confidence: "Lord, I will follow thee whithersoever thou goest" (Luke 9:57). There's nothing restrained about his declaration. He's volunteering, not waiting to be invited. He sounds like someone who has made up his mind.
But Jesus doesn't welcome him with open arms. Instead, He offers a reality check: "Foxes have holes, birds of the air have nests, but the son of man hath not where to lay his head" (Luke 9:58).
This isn't the comfortable journey the man imagined. There's no security at the end of this road, no earthly home waiting. And with that, the man vanishes from the text. We never hear from him again.
The gap between enthusiasm and actual commitment turned out to be wider than he realized. He was ready to follow Jesus somewhere—just not here.
The Man with Family Obligations
The second encounter is different. Jesus initiates it. "He said unto another, Follow me" (Luke 9:59). The call of God doesn't wait for the right season. It comes when it comes.
The man's response sounds perfectly reasonable: "Lord, suffer me first to go and bury my father" (Luke 9:59). What could be more pressing than fulfilling this sacred family duty?
Here's where cultural context matters. Scholars note that this phrase didn't necessarily mean his father had just died. It likely meant he wanted to stay home until his father eventually passed away, settle the inheritance, and then follow Jesus.

"But first" wasn't a matter of days. It was an indefinite deferral, dressed up in the language of duty.

Jesus' response cuts to the heart: "Let the dead bury the dead: but go thou and preach the kingdom of God" (Luke 9:60). He's not being cruel; He's being clear. There will always be something that feels urgent enough to postpone the call. If you wait for those things to resolve themselves, you'll be waiting forever.

The Man Looking Backward
The third man also volunteers: "Lord, I will follow thee; but let me first go bid them farewell, which are at home at my house" (Luke 9:61). Just a quick goodbye. Five minutes, maybe. Then he'll be on his way.
But Jesus reaches for a striking image: "No man, having put his hand to the plow, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God" (Luke 9:62).
A farmer plowing a field cannot keep a straight furrow if his eyes are behind him. The work requires forward focus. This man's eyes are on what he's leaving, not on what he's moving toward.

The Pattern Behind the Delays
Three men. Three encounters. Three different delays. But the pattern is identical: "But first."
"But first" is the procrastinator's signature. It doesn't mean "no"—it never means "no." It says something far more comfortable: "soon." And "soon" is the word that has buried more obedience than outright refusal ever could.
The truth is this: "But first" doesn't mean "no." It means someone else or something else is still first.

The Ancient Pull
These three men represent something deeper than individual failures. They map precisely to what 1 John 2:16 identifies as the driving forces of worldliness: "For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world."
The first man, with his bold public declaration, represents the pride of life—enthusiasm that hasn't been tested.
The second man, pulled by family obligation and the familiar, represents the lust of the flesh—the desire for comfort and security.
The third man, looking back at what he's leaving, represents the lust of the eyes—drawn to what is visible and known rather than walking by faith toward what cannot yet be seen.
This is the same threefold temptation that has been working since the Garden of Eden. Eve saw that the tree was good for food (flesh), pleasant to the eyes (eyes), and desired to make one wise (pride of life). Jesus faced the same three pulls in the wilderness—bread, kingdoms, the pinnacle—and walked through every one without flinching.

The One Who Set His Face
Here's what makes all the difference: Jesus didn't just teach about commitment. He embodied it.
He could have delayed. He could have found a thousand reasonable-sounding reasons to postpone Jerusalem. The disciples weren't ready. The crowds were volatile. The religious leaders were hostile. There wasn't a single practical argument for the timing of the cross.
But He went anyway. Not because it was convenient, but because it was obedient.
His victory over the flesh, the eyes, and the pride of life is the foundation we stand on. His obedience is credited to us. The second Adam did what the first Adam could not.

The Urgency of Now
James puts it plainly: "To him that knoweth to do good, and doeth it not, to him it is sin" (James 4:17). That's not soft language. He's calling out the reality of delayed obedience for what it truly is.

Life is a vapor—here today, gone tomorrow. The conversations you've been postponing, the obedience you keep calling "soon," the step of faith you're waiting for a more convenient season to take—all of it matters now.

Governor Felix heard Paul preach about righteousness and judgment. The Bible says he trembled. He felt the truth. And then he said those fatal words: "Go thy way for this time; when I have a convenient season, I will call for thee" (Acts 24:25).
That's the last we hear of Felix. We don't know if that convenient season ever came.

Name Your "But First"
Whatever God is asking of you today—a conversation, a surrender, a step of faith—the season to do it is now. Not because you have it all figured out. Not because everything is in order. But because the One who called you already walked through the wilderness for you.
His Spirit is sufficient for whatever He's calling you toward.

Name your "but first." Write it down if you need to. Then ask God what one step looks like. One furrow ahead.

That's all He's asking.