I see that there are more miracle stories coming up in this chapter, but the next few verses—the problem of the two wannabe disciples—feel like an interruption. Actually, one of the two is already referred to as a disciple! Why is Jesus discouraging them?
It’s not an easy passage to figure out. I notice that the passage begins (vs. 18) with Jesus wanting to escape the crowds and giving orders to cross over to the other side of the Sea of Galilee. So, these are, in effect, not general requests to become some kind of disciple, but specific requests to go with Jesus as he leaves Capernaum. In fact, as you noticed, one of them is already a disciple and can only be asking to go along on the new adventure.
Jesus is not actually rejecting these people from discipleship as such. We sometimes assume that discipleship was a single category. But Jesus clearly had disciples of more than one kind. Some were folk who continued their daily lives, but took his teaching seriously (like the crowds at the Sermon on the Mount!) and came to hear him when they could. Other disciples, like Peter and Andrew, James and John, have been spending much of their time with him in Capernaum. But it’s their own hometown, where he has been living since 4:3. They’re also part of a developing group who will soon take up a wandering lifestyle alongside Jesus. Indeed, the impending voyage across the lake is a kind of preview of that period, which will begin in earnest in chapter 10.
The scribe who wants to go with Jesus is already recognized as a religious expert, by virtue of his learning and his office, who now wants to learn Jesus’ interpretation of the religion of Israel. But can he really give up his dignity and his social importance in Capernaum to go on the road? Jesus thinks not. The other disciple here has been listening to Jesus and wants to hear more but he has family ties that he’s not prepared to break. Jesus says, “You won’t be able to join this expedition.”
But aren’t they still being rejected as disciples?
I always read the passage this way in the past. But I no longer think so. Jesus is saying to these two, “No, this sacrifice is not for you.” It’s also worth noting that Matthew presents the inner group of disciples as people whom Jesus himself has picked. He initiates the relationship, not the would-be disciple. We read about the calling of the first of these folk in 4:18-22, and we’ll get a full list later on in 10:1-4. But this doesn’t mean that the other kind of discipleship is of no importance. The specially “called” have a particular role in Matthew’s story: to learn, yes, to assist Jesus, yes; but also to make mistakes, to misunderstand, and, finally, to betray or deny or desert Jesus. Theirs isn’t the only pattern of discipleship, though it is critical to Matthew’s narrative. They are there as much for the sake of us, the readers, as anything else.
So it’s this inner group alone who witness the stilling of the storm?
Yes. And notice that they don’t know what to make of it. The inner circle were not necessarily the most perceptive people that Jesus came across. Jesus gives most of his high praise to people he encounters only tangentially, like the centurion we just met (8:5-13). The disciples often get things wrong, which gives Jesus a chance to teach them something more, which they may then misunderstand in some new way. Their response to the stilling of the storm is part amazement—as is proper when you’ve just witnessed a miracle—but mostly, at base, incomprehension: “Huh! What was all that about? How did he do that? Who is he, really?”
Then they come to Gadara and Jesus gets into trouble in Gentile territory as easily as Jewish.
He’s good at it, isn’t he? He can rile almost anybody up. They must be out on the outskirts of the town in this story. Burials weren’t allowed within ancient city limits. It’s an uncanny place with nobody around except a few swineherds and a couple of demoniacs. Greek tombs were often above-ground structures like small temples or houses. It sounds as if they may have broken into one of these tombs and are living in it. And they’re a major public problem. Jesus exorcises them at the very high cost of a large number of pigs, belonging to unnamed citizens of Gadara. (Had there been a Jewish crowd present, they would have thought it perfectly appropriate for the demons to drown a bunch of unclean animals; it might even have seemed a good joke,)
One might have thought the Gadarenes would have found it worth the price to have these two public menaces restored to a peaceable frame of mind. Yet, it comes as no surprise that the citizens beg Jesus to leave. He’s not only expensive; he’s unpredictable and far too powerful.
The story isn’t altogether different from the way Jesus trespasses purity boundaries in the Jewish community. These Gentile demoniacs have been pushed away from the respectable society into the uncanny territory of the dead. All societies, all cultures, have purity rules that serve, among other things, to keep some people on the margins and confirm the social standing of others. The story continues Jesus’ insistence that God loves the unloved. But this love isn’t cost-free in any culture; it disrupts familiar expectations and can cost the respectable more than they want to give.
And then Jesus just goes home to Capernaum again. Isn’t that the very place he was trying to get away from?
Yes, the trip to Gadara seems to have been just a dress rehearsal for the wandering life he’ll soon take up in earnest. But his return lands him in an even tenser series of confrontations that will end in a decisive break with the local religious authorities.

Next up: OPEN CONFRONTATION (9:1-17)