Let the Dead Bury Their Own Dead

By Dr. Eli (Eliyahu) Lizorkin-Girzhel

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“Let me first go and bury my father.” This request from a would-be disciple, and Jesus’ startling reply—”Follow me, and let the dead bury their own dead”—has troubled readers for two millennia. It seems to pit the urgency of discipleship against the foundational commandment to honor one’s parents. However, insights from first-century Jewish burial practices reveal that the man’s request was likely not about an imminent funeral but about a far-removed, future family obligation. Understanding this cultural context shows Jesus not as dismissive of filial duty but as challenging a delay that would subordinate the transformative, immediate call of God’s kingdom to a manageable, later convenience.

The Biblical Context

In Matthew 8:18-22, amid displays of Jesus’ authority—healing the sick, calming the storm, and casting out demons—two potential followers approach Him. A scribe pledges enthusiastic loyalty, only to hear Jesus warn of the cost: “The Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” Then another says, “Lord, permit me first to go and bury my father.” Jesus responds sharply: “Follow me, and let the dead bury their own dead.”

Luke 9:57-62 records a similar exchange during Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem, adding a third person who wants to say goodbye to family. Jesus replies, “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.”

Both Gospels portray discipleship as demanding absolute priority over security, family obligations, and social norms. Matthew highlights the cost amid Jesus’ miracles; Luke stresses forward commitment on the road to the cross.

Key Passages

Now that we have seen the context, let us zoom in on our texts.

²¹ And another of the disciples said to Him, “Lord, allow me first to go and bury my father.” ²² But Jesus said to him, “Follow Me, and let the dead bury their own dead.” (Mat 8:21-22)

⁵⁹ And He said to another, “Follow Me.” But he said, “Lord, permit me first to go and bury my father.” ⁶⁰ But He said to him, “Allow the dead to bury their own dead; but as for you, go and proclaim everywhere the kingdom of God.” (Luke 9:59-60)

The texts are somewhat different, but they essentially convey the same message in slightly varied versions. The difficulty arises from Jesus’ seeming disregard for one of the ten commandments.

Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land the Lord your God is giving you.” (Ex 20:12; Deut 5:16)

Attending one’s father’s funeral and bidding farewell to the man who played an instrumental role in one’s birth and upbringing seems an obvious expression of honoring him.

This concern is deepened by Jewish traditions in the Second Temple period, where proper burial of the dead was regarded as a profound act of piety and charity. For example, the Wisdom of Ben Sira (Sirach, composed ca. 180 BCE) stresses honoring parents, including care in old age and proper remembrance after death (Sirach 3:1–16; 7:27–28). In the Book of Tobit (a text widely revered in Second Temple Judaism, composed around 200 BCE), Tobit repeatedly risks his life to bury fellow Jews left unburied, viewing it as one of his chief righteous deeds (Tobit 1:16–20; 2:3–8).

Similarly, the historian Josephus (writing in the late first century CE) notes that even Jewish passersby were expected to join funeral processions in lamentation (Against Apion 2.205). In later rabbinic sources, reflecting traditions that extend back to this era but were codified later, further underscore burial as a supreme mitzvah of kindness, with the duty falling especially on sons (Mishnah Sanhedrin 6:5).

Various Interpretations

Historically, Christian interpreters, including Church Fathers like John Chrysostom and Augustine, understood Jesus’ words—”Follow me, and let the dead bury their own dead” (Matthew 8:21-22; Luke 9:59-60)—as a metaphorical call to prioritize the kingdom of God radically over even sacred earthly duties.

They viewed the “dead” as the spiritually dead (unbelievers or those indifferent to God’s call) who can handle physical burials. This emphasized immediate allegiance to Christ, often seeing the request as an excuse for delay.

Modern scholarly consensus largely favors an idiomatic reading: “bury my father” meant waiting until the (living) father’s death and fulfilling family/inheritance obligations—potentially years away—thus exposing procrastination.

A Key Insight from Archaeology: Secondary Burial

Recent archaeological insights into first-century Jewish burial customs offer a clarifying, and perhaps more responsible, solution to this dilemma.

The key idea that provides an insightful perspective on the text is that Jews at the time of Jesus did not bury their dead once, but twice. We are already familiar with the primary burial (think of Lazarus or Jesus Himself, both placed in a tomb cave). This is what is described in John’s Gospel:

³⁹ Nicodemus, who had first come to Him by night, also came, bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes, about a hundred litras weight. ⁴⁰ So they took the body of Jesus and bound it in linen wrappings with the spices, as is the burial custom of the Judeans/Jews. (John 19:39-40)

Archaeology provides overwhelming evidence that there was also a secondary burial. This rite, known as ossilegium, was not exclusively Jewish but was the preferred practice among Jews for centuries before and after the time of Jesus. This was especially true in Judea, though the practice was also known in more remote places like Galilee.

The body, wrapped in burial cloths, was left in the tomb cave for an extended period (often about a year) to decompose. Then, someone knowledgeable in Jewish burial practices would enter, inspect the remains, and—once mostly bones remained—collect them, place them in an ossuary (a limestone bone box), and store the box in a niche or separate chamber within the family tomb.

While the son would certainly be present or involved in arranging this process as an act of filial piety, he himself would be unlikely to personally handle his father’s bones. Someone else from the community typically performed that hands-on task.

One of the “small tractates” (masechtot qetanot) appended to editions of the Babylonian Talmud is Tractate Semahot, a minor tractate in rabbinic literature. It is the classic and oldest comprehensive rabbinic text dedicated to laws and customs related to death, burial, mourning, and funeral rites.

Rabbi Eleazar bar Zadok said, “Thus spoke my father at the point of death: ‘My son, bury me at first in a fosse [ditch/trench]. In the course of time, collect my bones and put them in an ossuary, but do not gather them with your own hands.’” (Tractate Semahot (Evel Rabbati) 12:9)

Therefore, if this reading is correct, the would-be disciple with whom Jesus spoke was likely a man whose father had died some time ago—but whose secondary burial (ossilegium) had not yet taken place. The man was asking to delay following Jesus until this final rite was completed. He used it as an excuse, explaining why radical obedience to Christ’s call and proclamation of the Kingdom of God’s arrival simply came at a poor time in his life.

But what about Jesus’ enigmatic reply, “Let the dead bury their own dead”?

Within the context of first-century Jewish secondary burial practices, this phrase carries profound irony and fits the cultural reality perfectly.

One plausible explanation lies in the ritual impurity involved: those knowledgeable handlers who entered the tomb to collect and transfer bones (often community members rather than the son himself) would contract temporary defilement from contact with the dead (Num 19:11, 14–16). In Greek, νεκρούς could evoke those temporarily “dead” in a ritual sense—defiled and set apart—while performing duties related to the actual dead. The shift from Jesus’ spoken Aramaic (or Hebrew) to the Gospels’ Greek may have amplified this layered meaning for later readers distant from the customs.

A more striking and widely noted possibility is Jesus’ use of sharp, playful irony to expose the man’s procrastination. The would-be disciple claims urgency—“Let me first go and bury my father”—yet the secondary burial (ossilegium) would not occur for months, after full decomposition. Family tombs typically held multiple bodies at various stages: some freshly laid, still fleshing out; others already reduced to bones in ossuaries or niches.

Jesus retorts, in effect: “Let the dead (the dry bones of prior deceased already in the tomb) ‘bury’ their own dead (handle the remains of those still decomposing, like your father). You’ve already fulfilled the primary burial—stop delaying with this future obligation and follow me now.”

This interpretation underscores the absurdity: literal corpses are incapable of burying anyone, thereby highlighting the insignificance of such excuses in comparison to the Kingdom’s urgent demands. As seen in archaeological evidence from Jerusalem-area tombs and echoed in sources like Tractate Semahot, multiple generations shared these caves, making Jesus’ wordplay culturally resonant and pointed.

While the secondary burial explanation fits archaeological evidence compellingly, many scholars see ‘bury my father’ as an idiom for awaiting a living father’s death, making the request a long-term delay. It is important to remember that primary burial was immediate (same day/next), so if the father had just died, the man wouldn’t be approaching Jesus so casually in conversation. This observation supports either that the father did not yet die at all (majority of modern scholarship) or that secondary burial is in view (minority of modern scholarship).

Conclusion

Multiple interpretations help resolve the apparent conflict with the clear commandment to honor one’s parent, affirm the urgency of Jesus’ call, and one even fits well with first-century Jewish customs uncovered by archaeology. It shows Jesus not as unreasonable, harsh, or dismissive of family duties, but as one who fully understood the cultural context and appropriately challenged the man to align his actions with his words.

When viewed through the lens of first-century Jewish practice, the well-known exchange changes from a confusing moral conflict to a deep revelation of God’s priority. The man’s request was not about immediate grief but about postponing discipleship for a year or more—until the secondary burial rite was complete. Jesus’ reply, therefore, is not a dismissal of filial duty but a radical re-centering of allegiance in light of the inbreaking Kingdom.

His words cut to the heart of every disciple’s temptation: the desire to place God’s call on our own timeline, to subordinate the urgent work of the Spirit to the manageable rhythm of inherited obligations. Jesus exposes this not as piety, but as procrastination—a form of spiritual death.

Today, Christ’s call retains its unrelenting urgency. The “secondary burials” we plead—finishing this project, reaching that milestone, waiting for a more convenient season—are often just respectable excuses. The Kingdom will not wait for our calendars to clear. The King demands that we rearrange our schedule for Him.