Read

Luke 14:26 “If anyone comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters—yes, even their own life—such a person cannot be my disciple.”

Think

This verse has made a lot of people uncomfortable. And honestly, it should.

It sounds harsh—like Jesus is telling us to turn on the people we love most. For a Savior who constantly preached love, inclusion, and forgiveness, it almost feels out of character. Didn’t Jesus say to honor your father and mother? Didn’t he care for his own mother from the cross?

So what’s going on here?

Jesus isn’t contradicting himself. He’s confronting a tendency in all of us: the desire to add him to our lives rather than give him our lives.

This isn’t about emotional hatred—it’s about ultimate allegiance. The word “hate” here is a Hebrew idiom—one that means “to love less.” Jesus is saying, “Your love for me should be so complete, so consuming, that your love for everything else looks small by comparison.” Even your closest, most natural relationships.

Think about it: family shapes your identity. It forms your worldview. It’s where you first learn about love, loyalty, and responsibility. And yet Jesus is saying, “Even those bonds—good and sacred as they are—can’t come before me.”

That’s a hard ask. But it’s an honest one.

Most of us are comfortable calling Jesus our top priority. But Jesus doesn’t want to be first on your list—he wants to be the list. Not one commitment among many, but the filter through which every other relationship, goal, and role is defined.

It’s like the difference between a file cabinet and a fire. When Jesus is just a file in your life, he’s one drawer among others. Maybe even the top one. But when Jesus is your only priority, he’s a fire that reshapes everything else. Marriage, parenting, friendships, career—they’re all rearranged around him. They don’t disappear—they just take their rightful place.

Jesus isn’t asking you to neglect your family. He’s saying you’ll never love them rightly until you love him supremely.

That means there may be times you obey Jesus in a way that confuses or even offends those closest to you. Maybe your family doesn’t understand your convictions. Maybe they pressure you to compromise your integrity. Maybe following Jesus costs you something in your home life—your comfort, your image, even your approval.

This is where the rubber meets the road. When devotion to Jesus isn’t just a private feeling, but a public choice.

Imagine a young woman feeling called to the mission field, but her parents beg her to stay close. Or a man convicted to leave a high-paying job because of ethical concerns, while his friends call him foolish. Or a teenager choosing to break up with someone they love deeply because the relationship pulls them away from Christ.

These are real choices, not just sermons. And they’re never easy. But Jesus said they’re necessary.

We don’t get to follow him without cost. And sometimes that cost touches the things we hold most dear.

This isn’t about choosing between loving Jesus and loving others. It’s about choosing to love others through your love for Jesus. It’s about letting his voice carry more weight than anyone else’s—even the people who raised you, supported you, or know you best.

It’s a little like gravity. Every relationship in your life pulls on you in some way—your spouse, your kids, your friends. But the closer you get to Jesus, the more his gravity takes over. He becomes the center of orbit. And every other relationship finds its place around him.

That doesn’t mean you cut people off or burn bridges. It means you start seeing those relationships through a new lens. You stop needing their approval to stay faithful. You stop using their expectations to measure your purpose. You stop confusing proximity with priority.

When Jesus becomes your only priority, you don’t love people less—you love them better. Your affection becomes purer. Your motives become cleaner. You stop using people to fill you, andstart serving people out of the fullness he gives you.

But make no mistake—there will still be friction. The moment may come when you have to choose: their expectations or His calling. Their comfort or his commands. Their acceptance or his approval.

And when that happens, remember: Jesus didn’t say this to push you away—he said it to pull you in. He’s not calling you to hate people—he’s calling you to love him with a kind of love that changes how you love everyone else.

Apply

Is there a relationship in your life—family or otherwise—that’s competing with your devotion to Jesus? Identify one area where your loyalty is divided. Then take one small step toward obedience this week, even if it’s uncomfortable.

Pray

Jesus, you are worthy of my full devotion. Teach me to love you more than I love being understood, accepted, or affirmed. Help me put you above every other voice in my life—even the ones that are closest to me. And as I love you first, teach me to love others best. In Jesus’ name. Amen.