[Sermon preached on 3 June 2018, 2nd Sunday after Pentecost / 3rd year, ELCF Lectionary]
When I was a kid—I think I was eight years old at the time—I attended a Summer Bible Camp. I will never forget it, for many reasons. In particular, I remember how at the end of the day’s program, we always sang the same song every day again. It was this song:
I have decided to follow Jesus. (3x) — No turning back, no turning back.
The cross before me, the world behind me. (3x) – No turning back, no turning back.
That is quite a radical song, don’t you think? And to make eight-year old kids sing that song, when they are tired and almost falling asleep… Wow! I think that by modern standards that would be considered abusive manipulation. In fact, I have sometimes wondered how many of the kids in that camp still consider themselves Christians today, half a century later? How many of those kids really left the world behind them and took up the cross to follow Jesus?
We don’t generally think of being a Christian as something quite so radical. Most of us, who have at one time or another made a decision to receive Christ as our Lord and Savior, did so from quite a different motivation. We decided to follow Jesus for the benefits it brings with it: Eternal life, peace of mind and heart, forgiveness of our faults, acceptance just as we are, the feeling of being loved by God. Perhaps there was a price to pay. For me, the price was that I was bullied and laughed at in school because I was a “Jesus freak”. That was a small price to pay compared to the benefits.
When people are invited to receive Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior, more often than not, they are persuaded by the benefits, not by the costs. The famous American evangelist Billy Graham, who went to be with the Lord earlier this year, preached the gospel around the world to more than a billion people over a period of sixty years. Many times, he spoke on the topic: “The cost of not following Jesus.”
His marketing strategy was to lay out before the people the enormous benefits of becoming a believer. He painted in vivid colors what it would be like not to make it to heaven. He was quite explicit about the tortures of hell. But when it came to the cost of becoming a believer, he often did not go a long way. The worst that could happen to a new believer is that they would have to start to read the Bible and pray every day and go to church every Sunday. Too much for some people, I am sure. But actually, not quite that bad, is it?
But Jesus had an entirely different marketing strategy. When large crowds followed him, he felt troubled. In the Gospel reading for next Sunday, we see how one person after another comes to Jesus with the intention to follow him. And how does Jesus react? He discourages them. He tells them: “Don’t bother, if you are not willing to leave everything else behind to follow me. Don’t bother, if I am not your #1 priority.”
In John 6, we see how many thousands of people are following Jesus. They come to hear him speak, to see him perform miracles and drive out demons, and perhaps to get some benefits out of the meeting. And they get what they are looking for. Jesus performs a miracle, when he turns five loaves of barley bread and two little fish into enough food to fill the stomachs of more than 5,000 people. But Jesus isn’t happy. He escapes the crowds when evening comes and disappears to Capernaum.
The following day, the crowds trace his steps and appear on the scene, ready for more. This time, he offers them no miracles, no food—only some very tough and challenging teaching. And what happens then is so typical. The people simply disappear. They go home, because they don’t like what Jesus is offering them this time. They say: “This is hard teaching!” And Jesus asks: “Does this offend you?” Obviously, it does, because not only the crowds leave him. John says that “from that time many of his disciples turned back and no longer followed him.” Not just the crowds, but even his disciples. And not just a few, but many. That’s what happens when Jesus rubs the truth of God’s kingdom into their greedy faces.
Of the more than five thousand who followed Jesus in the plains of Galilee, only eleven were left in the Garden of Gethsemane, and only less than a handful followed him to the cross on Calvary.
Some time ago, I watched a preacher on YouTube describe the three kind of followers that Jesus didn’t want around.
First, there were the “Familiars”. In Nazareth and Capernaum, people knew Jesus all too well. They were his relatives and townsmen and women. Some of them had known him while he was still wearing diapers, others knew him as a neighbor or a carpenter. They liked him, but they felt he should not think too much of himself. They wanted him to behave like the normal Jesus they had known for so long.
Familiarity is a challenge for us particularly if we grew up in a Christian family and a Christian church. For us, being a follower of Jesus is not so much a matter of going somewhere. It is more a matter of being and staying where we have always been. There is a sense of security in the intimacy of the Christian home. There is a sense of comfort in the unchanging life and tradition of the church. We want to sing those same old hymns that we sang back then. We want the same liturgy, the same prayers and even the same sermons. The worst that can befall Familiars is the unsettling threat of uncertainty, change and transformation. But that is exactly what Jesus offers his followers.
Secondly, there were the “Fakes”. Jesus called them hypocrites—pretenders. They were people who went a long way to impress others with their outward signs of faith and devotion. But deep inside they couldn’t care less. For them rules and appearances were more important than their relationship with God and with others. They constantly pretended to be something they were not. And what is worse, many of them were blind to their own deception. They actually thought they were righteous and sincere believers.
The famous Indian leader Mahatma Gandhi greatly admired Jesus. But he refused to become a Christian and join the church. Why? Because he had greatly disappointing and discouraging experiences with Christians and Christian leaders during his life in South Africa. He called them hypocrites because they acted like models of Christian virtue and commitment in public, but they were through and through corrupt and selfish in business and in the confines of their homes. What is more: they were eve racists.
Jesus doesn’t want models like the ones you find on the pages of fashion magazines—thoroughly Photoshopped to look perfect. He doesn’t want Hollywood stars, surrendering themselves to whatever roles they are asked to play. He wants people who look the same outside and inside; the same at home and in public; the same at work and in church. It is not enough to show up in church every Sunday, constantly volunteer for different duties, and pray impressive public prayers for others to admire. It is what is inside our hearts and minds that matters. Not our appearance but our commitment.
Third, there were the “Fans”. In the plains of Galilee there were many thousands of them. They looked for entertainment, for excitement, for the privilege of being on the side of the winner.
Jesus had everything it takes to be a winner. So there were always crowds around him, trying to benefit from his power to heal, his power over evil spirits, and his intellectual and spiritual superiority over the religious elite. Many had no doubt that he would have the power to overcome the political and military oppression by king Herod and by the Roman army. Of course, everybody wanted to be a part of the Jesus Fan Club.
But… who wants to cheer when the team starts losing? Losers do not have fan clubs. And when Jesus’ career started showing signs of decline, and when Jesus predicted a very unhappy ending in Jerusalem, his fans were in a hurry to get out.
Many Christians today look for entertainment and excitement. They go to churches with a powerful organ and a huge choir, or to a worship service with a band that performs hypnotizing songs of praise. They go for the great and famous speakers. I know people who seek out healing services. They go far distances, if needed, either to find healing for their own sickness or to witness miracles.
But Jesus doesn’t want to offer us glory and entertainment—at least not here and now. I am sure we will have enough of that in heaven. But here and now he calls on us to follow when the going gets tough. He calls us to associate not with the bold and beautiful, with the popular and successful. He calls us to join the band of losers. He says: “Give up everything for my sake, and you will get a great reward in heaven.”
“Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will find it.”
First, Jesus demands self-denial. The Cambridge English Dictionary defines self-denial as
“the act of not taking or having something that you would like because you think it is good for you not to have it.”
Paul, in his first letter to Timothy refers to a degree of self-denial, when he speaks about “godliness with contentment”. But when Jesus speaks about self-denial, he means a lot more.
It means, first of all, that we don’t consider ourselves anything. We have no value, no worth, apart from Christ and apart from our calling as his followers. Paul said that he will not boast about himself; only about Christ, about his death and resurrection. As long as we have great and noble thoughts about ourselves, we miss the perspective that the Bible offers us. Jesus Christ needed to suffer and die the most shameful, ugly and painful death penalty imaginable. Not because he deserved it, but because we deserve it.
To deny ourselves is to cut through the clean and shining surface and look at the dark and dirty and rotten reality inside. To deny ourselves is to say to God: “I am not worth anything. Take me, shape me, fill me, use me, so that I may become a useful tool in your hand and a valuable member of your body.”
To deny ourselves is to also deny our right to our position, our possessions, and our future. Once we understand that as followers of Jesus we no longer own ourselves but he owns us, it follows that we cannot own anything without letting Jesus have access to it and the right to use it at his will. We cannot decide on our future without letting Jesus have the final word. We are in a sense like the people of Israel in the wilderness. When the presence of God—visible through the cloud in the day and the fire at night—settled in a certain place, the people had to stop right there. And if they saw his presence moving on in the morning, they simply had to pack and go immediately. That is the level of self-denial that Jesus asks from his followers.
Secondly, Jesus tells us to take up our cross. For the disciples, the cross meant nothing more or less than an instrument that the Romans used to execute criminals and political rebels. And even if they had never seen an actual crucifixion, they must have known that it was an extremely shameful, cruel and painful process, unparalleled by anything they had ever heard of. We know that Jesus was beaten up and tortured, before the heavy beam of the cross was lifted on his shoulder and he was forced to carry it up the hill to the place of execution. Jesus did not have enough strength left to carry the cross till the end. He collapsed halfway, and an African Jew from Libya was forced to take it over from him.
Taking up our cross means that we are ready to go the way that Jesus went. We don’t back off when the going gets tough. Jesus speaks about the ultimate self-sacrifice.
I think it is unfortunate that we use terms like self-denial and self-sacrifice quite liberally these days. Olympic gold winners will proudly tell the media how they practiced many years of self-denial and self-sacrifice to get to the top. Aid workers in disaster-stricken regions will practice self-denial and self-sacrifice in order to help the local population survive amidst the ruins and the emerging epidemics. For many, turning down an ice cream on a hot summer day is self-denial. And for some, coming to church on a hot summer day is self-sacrifice.
But for Jesus, taking up the cross, means literally: the sacrifice of self. For some people in the world today, this is a very real situation in the literal sense of the word. We constantly hear of Christians in Muslim countries in the Middle East being arrested, molested and then crucified, because they follow Christ and refuse to deny him. It is real today, but I doubt whether any of us would ever come close to bringing such a sacrifice for Christ.
But Jesus asks the same spirit of faithfulness and sacrifice from us that these Christians in the Middle East display. Are we ready to give up position, possessions, relationships, reputation, security, comfort—you name it—when following Jesus requires it? Think about that—and be honest to yourself… Are you ready to give up all of that for Jesus?
One of Jesus’ closest friends and followers was Simon Peter. When Jesus challenged him, he boldly proclaimed that he would do anything for Jesus. He would stand by him at all times and under all conditions, fight at his side to defend him, even if it meant laying down his life. But what do we see next? When Jesus is arrested, Peter runs off into the safe darkness. When Jesus is standing trial before the High Priest, Peter denies three times in a row that he even knows Jesus.
But Jesus did not deny Peter. After his resurrection, he challenged Peter once more. He made Peter face his own failures and weaknesses. But he did not reject him. He still kept Peter on board, and even made him captain on his ship. The ultimate test was not whether Peter had been faithful. The ultimate test was: “Peter, do you love me?”
I am sure that many of us will be hesitant to even proclaim with the same boldness that Peter had, that we are ready to deny ourselves, take up our cross and follow Jesus. Instead, we will look for more compromising ways of following Jesus, staying in our comfort zone as long as we can. But even if we are as self-confident as Peter was, and we say or sing from the bottom of our heart: “I have decided to follow Jesus. No turning back! The cross before me, the world behind me. No turning back,” the question is: Can we deliver when it gets real? I think none of us really know. But we can learn one lesson from the words that Jesus spoke in Luke 16:
“Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much,
and whoever breaks trust with very little will also break trust with much.”
In the days and weeks to come, let us ask ourselves that question: “Am I willing to deny myself and take up the cross—both in the rather undemanding situations in life, when our reputation, our position or our relationships are at stake, and if some day the ultimate self-sacrifice will be demanded from me?” Will I follow Jesus whatever the cost? Amen.
