An Invitation, Not a Threat: A Lutheran Perspective on Mark 8:38

Recently, a local Bible teacher and religious studies scholar reached out to me with a question:“What’s your Lutheran perspective on Mark 8:38?” It’s one of those verses that can make me squirm—one I might even wish Jesus hadn’t said—because it has been used to shame or scare people into rigid conformity. But when read in its context, it’s far more of an invitation than a threat.

From a Lutheran perspective, grace is both our starting point and our final word. Our salvation is entirely dependent on Christ—nothing we do or fail to do changes that. This knowledge gives us the freedom to love and serve our neighbor without worrying about earning God’s approval.

As Martin Luther put it:

“We are not righteous in ourselves, but in Christ. Therefore, we sin daily, yet grace is not taken away.”

We are—always—a sinner, always a saint.

I would never preach on this verse alone. In context, Jesus has just told his disciples that he will be rejected and killed—not because he’s failed, but because his way of love and justice is incompatible with empire.

“Ashamed” here isn’t about being embarrassed to say Jesus’ name; it’s about distancing ourselves from the Jesus who welcomes the excluded, confronts power, and moves toward suffering.

A detailed sermon prep and exegesis of this passage is at the end of this post.

In a sermon I might say the following about this verse:

Earlier in this passage, Jesus says, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” And then he says the thing we wish he wouldn’t: “Those who are ashamed of me and my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed…”I’ll be honest — that’s the verse I want to skip. It sounds like Jesus is keeping score. It sounds like he’s saying, “If you mess up, I’ll mess up on you.”

But here’s the thing: Jesus has just told his disciples he’s going to be rejected and killed — not because he’s failed — but because he’s chosen a way of life that is so full of love, so committed to the least and the last, so unwilling to play by the rules of empire, that the powers can’t stand it.

When he says, “Don’t be ashamed of me,” I don’t hear a threat. I hear a plea: Don’t shrink back from the life I’m inviting you into just because it’s costly. Don’t pretend you don’t know me when the world rolls its eyes at love. Don’t keep your hands clean when I’ve already reached into the mess to bring someone home.

And I got to tell you — I get why we’re tempted to keep our distance. It’s safer to blend in. Safer not to be the one defending trans kids in a school board meeting. Safer not to speak up when someone makes a racist joke. Safer not to challenge conspiracy theories in the family group chat. Safer not to be one of the only churches in Bakersfield that says out loud: “Yes, LGBTQ+ people fully belong.”

When Jesus says, “Don’t be ashamed of me,” I think he’s saying: Don’t be ashamed to be found where I am — with the people no one else wants, in the places everyone avoids, speaking words the powerful don’t want to hear.

Because here’s the truth — if I’m going to be ashamed of anything, let it be my own cowardice. Let it be the times I chose my own comfort over someone else’s liberation. But not of him… Not of the one who would rather die than stop loving us.

Beloved…  verse 38 is not a threat — it’s an invitation. Jesus is saying: Don’t miss this chance to live the kind of life that will make you proud to be seen standing next to me.