Full Disclosure

Perhaps you know the famous quote from President John F. Kennedy's inaugural speech, "And so, my fellow Americans: ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country." The brilliance of the line is how it succinctly expresses the obligations of citizenship. It is a call to service, to sacrifice, on behalf of your country and its aims.

The intent of the phrase could well be adapted to the task of preaching the gospel. Too often the gospel is presented as a pretty gift, wrapped in bright paper and topped with a bow, that's handed to the listener in a manner that communicates, "Ask anything you want from God and he'll give it to you -- no strings attached!" Unfortunately, this does not accurately represent the enterprise given the church by its Savior. It's true that the price necessary for a sinner's redemption has been fully paid by the obedience of Christ. By faith and faith alone are the benefits of that meritorious work put upon the sinner's account. He need not add anything. That amazing grace needs to be preached and preached boldly. But Jesus says there is more to the gospel call. The other side of the coin is the call to discipleship. And this is where the enterprise gets challenging. It involves not just what God has done for you, but what he calls you to do for him.

Jesus taught that if one is not willing to be more loyal to him than to anyone or any thing else, even one's own life, then that one cannot be his disciple. And if one is not willing to bear the suffering and rejection contained in the cross, a cross that awaits each follower of Jesus, then that one cannot be his disciple. His suffering has, indeed, freely bought the sinner salvation, but faith in him will not be free from suffering, for faith in Jesus sets the believer against the world. It is inevitable, therefore, that at some point in the life of a follower of Jesus his or her loyalty to Christ will be tested, and when that happens whether or not that one is a disciple will be revealed. This is why Jesus asks those who would follow him to count the cost.

We want to be faithful to call people to repentance and faith in Jesus Christ, but for the sake of full disclosure, we must also tell them all that that call entails. If they choose to follow Jesus they do so at the risk of losing everything they hold dear. It will not be a popular message but it's the one we are expected to give. After all, we've been commissioned to make disciples of all nations and a would-be disciple must count the cost.

Not a Sacrifice

If there was a fire in your apartment building forcing you to leave quickly, what would you grab on the way out? What would you want to save? If you have children . . . I suppose that goes without saying. Or a pet, likewise, I assume you’d be sure to take the dog or cat. But what else? Passport? Photos? Computer? A painting? What if you could only take one or two things? What would you choose? Whatever you ended up choosing would say something about what you think is most valuable (and not necessarily monetarily) among all of your possessions.

For the men in two of Jesus’ parables, one who discovered an unprecedented pearl, the other a buried treasure, the realization of what was most valuable didn’t come at the expense of a tragedy. Just the opposite was true. Theirs was a discovery that brought joy. How could it not? They knew that what they had come upon was more desirable than everything they owned and quickly gave it all up. The loss that these men experienced to possess the prize turned out to not be loss at all. In truth, they had exponentially gained. 

Jesus likens their response to the discovery that the kingdom of heaven is opened to sinners such as you and me. When the reality of what it means to be included in the kingdom is understood, all that might have to be left behind to be part of it shouldn’t feel like a sacrifice. Too often, however, we behave as though it were a tragedy, like being left with a couple of precious items as we watch our building burn to the ground. 

Why is it so difficult for some of us to receive the kingdom with joy? I suspect it’s because we don’t really grasp that damnation awaited us. The parable of the net, which immediately follows those alluded to above, teaches that at the end of this age there will be a judgment that only the “good” will survive. All who are “evil” will be sent away to an eternal existence too terrifying to imagine. 

The hard truth is that unless God acts none will be judged to be good on that day. But the gift of God is a Savior who was good, perfectly good, and our faith in his finished work opens the door to the kingdom. The apostle Paul understood this better than any other, as he was the “foremost” of sinners. This is why he wrote, “Through him we have . . . obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God.” Like the men in the parables, he joyfully “suffered the loss of all things” and counted them “as rubbish, in order that [he might] gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of [his] own” but a righteousness that “comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith.” An exponential gain to be sure!

As a City Set on a Hill

“A city set on a hill cannot be hidden.” This is Jesus’ plan for his disciples. They are to be on display, unavoidably on display. This makes the introverts among us very uncomfortable. And, as the experts tell us that our society is split just about down the middle between introverts and extroverts, that means that there’s a good chance 50% of Jesus’ disciples are not thrilled with his plan. But this is the Master’s plan, so everyone needs to be “on board.”

One thing that will help is to understand that being on display for Jesus is not the same as being on display for Macy's. Jesus doesn’t place you like a mannequin in a window, inviting people to stop and stare. His interests run much deeper than marketing. What he displays are the new lives of those whom he has brought to God through the reconciling power of his cross. These are lives that are being shaped by the will of God. Lives, therefore, that are full of wisdom and understanding, bearing fruit to his glory. 

Since this is the case, it doesn’t matter whether you are an introvert or an extrovert. What’s going to make the difference is your knowledge and love of God’s will and your desire to have it mold you. The person you will become will be one who will stand out not because you feel comfortable telling jokes in a crowd, or are able to walk up to strangers and easily engage in small talk. You will stand out, whether extrovert or introvert, because “in the sight of the peoples” you will possess wisdom and understanding that comes from knowing and doing the will of God (Deuteronomy 4:6-7)

When Jesus speaks as he does about his disciples being a very visible city there is no “might be” about it. It is what we are. If Moses is correct, being faithful to pursue the will of God in our lives will make us a city that is to be envied, a place where people want to live. 

What's It Worth?

Christianity is not for the faint of heart. At least that’s the impression I get from reading the epistles or the teachings of Jesus. No matter what portion of the New Testament one reads it isn’t long before the subject of suffering for the cause of Christ becomes part of the discussion. It shouldn’t surprise me, I suppose, given the fact that the one we follow was executed.

Jesus provokes controversy. And it’s not unusual for those who follow him to find themselves in trouble. The litany of Paul’s troubles (see, for example, 2 Corinthians 11:24-27) testifies to the breadth of difficulties that can attend someone who has given his life to Christ. Yet, despite the fact that Paul finds himself in unwanted, even perilous circumstances, he rejoices (see Philippians 1:12). How? Paul’s ability to rejoice while enduring persecution grows from his profound appreciation of the gospel. Like the man who stumbled upon the treasure, or the merchant who came across a pearl of unprecedented beauty, he was willing to give up everything, including his life, in order to possess Christ.  Why is the gospel so precious to him? Because he knew that grace was just that, grace, and it had been extended even to him.

It’s notable how often Paul’s persecution of the church is referred to in his writings. The depth of this sinfulness seems never to have left him, at least on this side of glory. Even in one of his last writings he remarks, “I was a blasphemer, persecutor, and insolent opponent “(1 Timothy 1:13), an echo of a previous statement in which he confesses, “I am the least of the apostles, unworthy to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God” (1 Corinthians 15:9). I think it’s this persistent memory that fuels his cherishing of the gospel. He knew that God had granted him an eternity that he did not deserve and rescued him from one that he did.

I haven’t participated in the arrest and execution of any of Jesus’ disciples, but my mocking and blasphemous tongue made me as worthy of condemnation as Paul. But God in his grace rescued me from myself. I pray I will treasure the gospel with the same warmth as Paul so that I can whole-heartedly serve him, whatever the circumstance, and confess with the apostle, “. . . to live is Christ, and to die is gain.”

The Call of Christmas

From a blog post of Dr. Jennifer Myhre, of World Harvest Mission, serving in Kenya:

“Having spent 17 of the last 20 Christmases in Africa, the wind which blows in a drier hotter season now feels familiar, and the flashing spastic lights we bought in our capital a couple years back (our first electrified season) feel appropriately chaotic. Last year was our first in Kijabe (Kenya), and I remember the church Christmas pageant which included a band of skinny little camouflage-clad Kenyan boys as Herod’s soldiers marching in like a rebel resistance army, and Jesus’ parents fleeing before them like any other refugees. I don’t recall much focus on this part of the story in America as I grew up.  Our plays ended half-way through Matthew 2, with the gifts of the magi, while the scene was still serenely beautiful and triumphant.  

“The slaughter of innocent children gives the story a jarring, uncomfortable ending, dangling, unresolved, and terrible.  Rachel weeping for her children, because they are no more . . .

“We should not have dropped this part of the Christmas story all these years, because slaughter is the context of Christmas.  The whole story hinges on the presence of rampant evil. When masses of children are violently killed, it becomes hard to deny the reality of injustice and suffering, the horrible brokenness of our world . . .

“On this continent, it would be absurd to deny the horror and heartache of evil, just as absurd as it would be to do so in Newtown [CT], or in Bethlehem, when the bloodied bodies of baby boys were being buried.”

Matthew’s inclusion of Herod’s atrocity in his Christmas account, powerfully signals that God is not removed from our human condition. He understands that, as Paul states, “. . . the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God . . [for in that day] the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to decay and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God.” After all, it is He who, in Revelation 21, puts before us the vision of an existence, an earth, a new earth, in which there is no more death, sorrow, and, therefore, no more mourning.

So, as Dr. Myhre acknowledges:

“Evil is real. Innocents suffer. But the story does not end there . . .

“The birth of the child, who is God, ushers in a turning point in the story. A foe capable of meeting evil, and defeating it, disguised and humbled in human flesh. The incarnation sets in motion a complete reversal of all that is wrong, all that is sorrowful, all that is painful, and in the course of this battle, a lot of people die. The baby survives and becomes the man who will refuse to ride against Roman powers as a King. That is a victory too small, a territory too temporary.  This King will choose a path of suffering, voluntarily taking on all that evil could throw at him, in his own body, nailed to a tree -- like the teachers at Sandy Hook who put their bodies in the path of bullets, trying to protect the children. This King will defeat evil. He will walk out of a tomb so that every 6 and 7-year-old gunned down, every starving baby, and even the Adam Lanzas of the world, can be redeemed.”

We who are followers of Jesus, while we look forward to that day in glory with him when mourning will be no more, must not ignore the path he trod to get there. His mission was a mission lived out in the real world, to overcome the evil let loose upon the real world. From first breath to last, Jesus bore the burden of sin and its evil evidences. Sin caused him to be greeted by the sound of weeping as he came into the world; he confronted its malevolence as he walked about the highways and byways; he succumbed to its power as he yielded up his life on the cross. He did not, however, overcome evil so that we would not have to confront it. He confronted evil so that we might join him in overcoming it. The call of Christmas is to pick up the cross and follow him.

This requires us to be more than passive, secret followers. Jesus did what he did in plain view, and those who had eyes to see, saw, and were overwhelmed by his love and sacrifice. While our work will not redeem anyone in any eternal sense, it will serve to expose others to Jesus and, with his help, push back against the effects of evil in the world. Dr. Myhre: “. . . it is not so much the power of armies that keeps evil at bay, but the ordinary acts of courage and kindness that preserve our world: the community outpouring of love which will heal hearts in Newtown; the tenacious pushing of a teenage girl who gave birth to a baby; and the steady painful walk he took towards death; the daily self-sacrifice of his followers who sweep streets, and teach children, and suture wounds, and defend the fatherless.” Such actions on the part of his followers celebrate the coming of the Christ, who came not to be served but to serve and give his life as a ransom for many.