The real demands of Christ on our lives shock us only if we realize he calls for everything we’ve got. Most of us trudge through life not thinking that the gospel brings anything shattering or new. God made us. God loves us. God takes care of us. What’s so shocking about that? We may not see the power of Christ in action because we tend to whittle down Christ’s influence to fit into the little spaces of our little lives. Blaise Pascal said “God created people in His image on the sixth day, and every day since, people have returned the favor.” How rarely we bow before him to catch his vision of the kingdom.
Peter’s vision of life with Jesus was radically revised at Caesarea Philippi. We started the story last week. Jesus gave all the disciples a chance to step up to the plate with the question: Who do you say that I am?” When the other disciples scratched their heads and looked at their feet, Peter stepped up and hit it out of the park. “You are the Christ, son of the living God!” Peter got it exactly right. Jesus called him blessed, said Peter got his information straight from heaven, promised to build a movement on the rock of that kind of faith, and assured Peter that he would get his very own set of keys to the property.
Before the glow of that magic moment dimmed, Jesus began to share the terrible trouble that awaited him in Jerusalem: suffering, persecution, death. “With the comforting weight of those bright keys still making a conspicuous bulge in his tunic pocket,” Peter weighed in with some tough love. Perhaps Jesus was caught up in the emotion of the moment; maybe he didn’t realize how his words came across. “Lord…please…could we have more of the ‘storming the gates of Hades’ and less doom and destruction?” What he actually said was “Never! This will never happen to you.”
Jesus turned on Peter with fire in his eyes. Peter had seen that look before, when Jesus dispatched demons—it was hard to be on this side of that fury. “Get behind me, Satan, you are a stumbling block to me; you do not have in mind the things of God, but the things of man.”
“You think like a man!” Jesus shouted at Peter. Isn’t that what we like Peter? That’s Peter’s gift to us, and maybe it was a gift to Jesus as well. I wonder if Jesus’ strong reaction masked something boiling inside him. Did Peter hit a nerve... exposing Jesus’ fear? Maybe Jesus led the disciples to Caesarea Philippi, far from the drama of Jerusalem, because he was looking for direction. Or maybe it was courage Jesus hoped to find there…courage to stay the course, courage to finish well. Maybe he was tempted to stay in that lush place. Peter put words to another option, and Jesus’ outburst showed that it was a tender topic. But Jesus knew the path he must follow.
“Get behind me, Satan, you are a stumbling block to me; you do not have in mind the things of God, but the things of man.” The disciples stood by silent as church mice. Jesus told them, “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it.
Nearly all the men there did lose their lives for Jesus, including Peter. And here we are, 20 centuries later, in a different part of the world, living very different lives, pondering what significance Jesus’ words might have for us. Is it conceivable that we, all these years later, might be called upon to sacrifice our very lives for the sake of Jesus and the Kingdom? The ultimate sacrifice still happens. I could take you to a lonely grave near a muddy African river where one man gave his life for the gospel. Who knows what we will be called to do for Christ?
Luke records this same cross bearing conversation, adding that Jesus said his disciples must take up their crosses daily and follow him. What does it mean for us to take up our crosses daily? What do Jesus’ words for us mean at 9:00am on Monday morning? At 12:00 at night? When you’re alone…when you’re in a crowd?
What does it mean to “lose your life for Jesus?” I’m good at losing things. I have lost sunglasses in fourteen states and three continents. But how do I lose my life, on a daily basis? And how do you lose your life by trying to save it? We save old buildings; we want to save the environment. Surely saving things is not bad policy. But deep down, what I really want to save is me, I want to protect myself. I want to be well-fed, cared for, safe, at ease, insulated from unpleasantness. Saving myself means keeping a tight rein on my time, my boundaries, my money and stuff. We’re slow to hand over the thermostat of our comfort zones. Isn’t that the American way? Don’t you try to create a little empire where you remain comfortably enthroned? There are so many voices that support our never ending quest for comfort and security, and so few that challenge us to venture out into the deep water. We know how to save our lives.
I don’t want to give up my vacation to go on a mission trip. I hate crowded buses, I don’t have a week to give, and I don’t speak their language. I save myself by thinking of my needs before the needs of God’s poor.
It’s out of character for me to introduce myself to a stranger. I save myself by talking only to my friends.
I don’t talk about Christ or our church with the people at work. It makes me feel uncomfortable. People might think I’m a screwball. I save myself by not taking a risk.
I even save myself from my wife. I know she’s got something on her mind, but if I keep staring at the TV, she’ll eventually give up and do something else. I save myself by ignoring the signals I know so well.
I’ve only got so much free time. I can’t fit in a Bible study, an evening of service at the John Sevier Center, a new assignment at church. I save myself by setting boundaries that protect my free time.
And that’s how you lose your soul. Peter didn’t want Jesus to talk sacrifice, suffering, pain, disgrace, death. “Don’t go there, Lord! Let’s work things out so that life will be easier. Let us take care of you; we might even be able to do something about the hours. We’ll worry about life insurance, your 401K, and paid vacation.
Jesus said, “Get behind me, Satan, you are a stumblingblock to me, you do not have in mind the things of God, but the things of men.” Then Jesus showed them how to lose a life in order to save it. He didn’t distance himself from the pain, but he drank the cup brewed in hell. He faced the cross, despising the shame.
So what should we do? How shall we live? Should the decisions that cost Jesus his life come cheaply for us? How do we stretch beyond our comfort zones? How do we lose our lives for the Lord’s sake so that we might find them? How do we learn to live like Jesus and those first disciples?
We take up our crosses and lay down our lives when we pay attention to the Word; it is a timeless guide that ever lights our way. William Carey, born in England in 1761, is known as the father of Modern missions. How could a Baptist minister born more than 1700 years after Jesus be called the Father of Modern Missions? Didn’t Jesus say nearly 2000 years ago: “Go into all the world, teaching, baptizing, making disciples?” Weren’t our marching orders clearcut? Amazingly, for about 200 years most Protestants were pretty certain that those commands of Jesus weren’t telling us to do anything. Jesus wasn’t commanding us to go, they said, he was talking to the disciples.
Then along came William Carey, small town Baptist preacher. He studied the Scriptures, and came to the conclusion that God expects all Christians to play an active role in God’s mission in the world. When Carey initially shared his ideas and his desire to go to India as a missionary to the congregation, one of the elders said, “Young man, sit down. When God pleases to convert the heathen he will do it without your aid or mine.” Carey didn’t sit down. Guided by the Word, Carey persisted and the Baptist Missionary Society was born, which became a model for sending missionaries into the world from both England and America.
How do we learn to lay down our lives as disciples? Pay attention to real disciples around you, and let their fire ignite something in you. Over the past year or so we have been blessed to meet folks from the Christian Peacemaking teams. On the face of it, you’ve just got to laugh. These folks are farmers, retired teachers, housewives. Mabel is 83. Then you hear their stories. Cliff says “I was in Iraq the day the bombs started falling.” I went with three elderly women who went to pray at a local munitions plant that makes shells from depleted uranium, which many believe is the major culprit behind the shadowy and horrible sickness known as “Gulf War Syndrome.” We prayed for a while, read scripture for a while, then these elderly ladies walked across the road to the guardhouse to give brownies to the watchmen. You’re never too old or too young to lay down your life.
How do we learn to deny ourselves and take up our crosses? Pay attention to the disciples around you…people like N. and P., who without ever having traveled to the far East, packed their bags and moved sight unseen to ----- to share the love of Jesus. They came home this year for a furlough, but before long got back on the plane, this time with their three children, to share Christ’s saving love with people half a world away.
How do you lose your life in service to Christ? Watch servants of Christ like Rich and Dori G--, who are showing us how to adopt an entire building of people with needs and hurts, down at the John Sevier center in Johnson City. And who is showing up to help? College kids, eager to be used by Christ. They’re outdoing us older folks. They are moving to places of need. They are learning to live on a little. It gives me great hope for the church’s future. Do you want to lay down your life for Christ? You can make a good start at the Sevier Center, or in our IHN homeless ministry, at ARM, or even joining our shepherding team to visit the sick, the aged, the homebound.
You say, Wait a minute! I thought giving your life away was all about becoming a missionary and moving somewhere where your toes freeze off in the winter, or you fight wild animals! I thought taking up your cross was about facing the firing squad for Jesus, rescuing someone from a burning building. Giving up your life doesn’t usually happen in one big lump sum. Giving your life is more like writing a lifetime of checks, day by day for such paltry sums as $1.17, .98, .54. Giving two hours a week at the Sevier Center…giving attention to a neighbor who needs a little help…giving an hour a day to listen and talk to your spouse…giving two hours to teach a children’s Sunday School class. (Craddock Stories, p. 155)
At some point we will carry our safe, smooth, pleasant, well-fed carcasses through the gates of eternity. There the Master will ask us to give an account of the gifts he placed in our keeping. Will we find then that in trying to save our lives, we really lost them? Or will we be one who has given all-- one who has journeyed over the safe edge, one who has gone the second mile, one who has put aside wealth and comfort and recreation for an opportunity to stand before that throne having done the will of the Lord.
Give your life away. Write those little checks with your life. 83 cents, 14 cents, 1.10. Write those checks that represent hours of your life, attention given to others, self-denial, joyful service, sacrifice. Give yourself away. Lay down your life. Take up your cross and follow Jesus.
