Part I: Into the Fray

Embrace the cost. Welcome to the war.
Oh Sleeper, Decimation and Burial

Christianity is simple. But it’s also a call to extreme commitment and personal cost. Our decision to follow Christ is an act of war against the systems of this world opposed to Him and His Kingdom. It’s the exercise of spiritual violence against our flesh which continually seeks to assert itself over Christ’s rule.

But, to coin Bonhoeffer, much of the church peddles in “cheap grace”. A grace that didn’t cost. A grace that doesn’t cost. For many, Christianity is merely a sales pitch for a heavenly timeshare–easy, affordable, and with the commitments buried in the small print. We talk about salvation as a “free gift” predicated only on our trust in Christ’s work and identity. But we forget what trust really means. For we know that authentic trust in Christ compels us to confirm the reality of what we believe by our thoughts and actions…

If Christ is my Savior, then I’m no longer subject to sin and its effect. I live this truth by reckoning myself absolutely free from sin and the influence of the world.

If Christ is my King, then He is my Master and Lord. I live this truth by dying to myself, following Him, and obeying His commands.

Our relationship with Christ is a relationship between us and a brother. But it’s also a relationship between disciple and Master. The decision to pursue the Lord in relationship is not a decision to be “saved”. It’s a decision to repent. It’s a decision to renounce yourself.

It’s a decision to die.

Before we commit to following the Lord, we must seriously consider the cost that we’ll inevitably pay in the journey. Neither the cost nor the commitment can be explained away or buried under a comfortable theology. We have to address it head on.

In this post, we want to talk about what Jesus meant when He warned others of cost of following Him. We’ll talk about what it means to renounce ourselves, why it’s necessary, and what “warfare” looks like as a follower of Christ.

The Cost of Discipleship

Throughout His earthly ministry Jesus was not shy to run off uncommitted followers by declaring the audacity of the Kingdom (John 6:51-68). Unlike the low-commitment Christianity often preached today, Jesus wasn’t afraid to tell the whole story. Holding back the truth would ultimately undermine His mission. Speaking the truth included explaining the cost that His followers would inevitably bear as His disciples.

The most poignant passages that speak to the cost of discipleship come from Luke 9:57-62 and Luke 14:26-33. Here Jesus explains the cost of following Him through metaphors, parables, and in His interactions with would-be followers. We’ll break down each of these passages, starting in Luke 9.

As they were going along the road, someone said to him, “I will follow you wherever you go.” And Jesus said to him, “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.”
Luke 9:57-58 (ESV)

Here, someone tells Jesus that they were willing to follow Him anywhere. But Jesus explains that He is even more homeless than the animals. It’s not clear what Jesus saw in this person’s heart to invoke this response. Maybe He was reminding the would-be disciple that to follow Him would be to follow a person who was absolutely free.

Jesus was without material possessions. He had no worldly ties. He was beholden to no one but His Father. He wasn’t demanding this man follow Him into a life of poverty. But He may have been warning Him that choosing to follow Him would be, in a sense, expeditionary. To follow Jesus is to follow a life of absolute freedom. But it would also be a life of migration, flexibility, and complete dependence. For many, such a life is costly.

To another he said, “Follow me.” But he said, “Lord, let me first go and bury my father.” And Jesus said to him, “Leave the dead to bury their own dead. But as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God.” Yet another said, “I will follow you, Lord, but let me first say farewell to those at my home.” Jesus said to him, “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.”
Luke 9:59-62 (ESV)

Another wanted to first bury their father before following Jesus. At first, Jesus’ reply seems insensitive. But it’s helpful to understand that during this time in Jewish culture a son would bury his father twice. The first burial would be within a week of the father’s passing. Then, up to a year later, the son would exhume the body of his father and re-bury his bones in a common ossuary container. It was likely that the person in this passage was referring to the second burial. Even so, what Jesus was asking this person to do was culturally unacceptable.

One of the greatest responsibilities of a Jew was to fulfill their family obligations–especially to their deceased. To not return and bury his father would have been a social disgrace of the highest order. It would have resulted in his estrangement by the family and (very likely) the entire community. Similarly, the third person wanted to return to his home and say goodbye to them before fully committing to following Christ. It’s interesting to note that when God called Elisha (through Elijah) into the life of a prophet, he was allowed to go back and say goodbye to his family (1 Kings 19:19-21). Jesus seems to demand more dedication of his disciples than His Father did of the prophets.

Today, we’ve somehow come to accept two types of Christians as valid: People who believe in Jesus and serious disciples. But Jesus doesn’t make this distinction. In His mind you are either a Christ-follower (and all that this includes) or you aren’t. Many today see “church” as an add-on to their busy lives. It’s an interest–something you’re “supposed to do”. It may fill a need for a safe “social club” to take part in. We send our kids to Sunday school so that they will find morality and positive influences. Church activity is seen as a very modular activity–often being the first thing to go when life gets “too busy”. While I’ve already questioned the value of a lot of what we call “church”, a genuine pursuit a Jesus Christ is often lumped into the same basket.

But Jesus demands allegiance above social expectations and cultural obligations. This includes our work, our country, our and even our family. He insists that He and His Kingdom be our occupation–the center and focus of our lives. He explains that those who took back after setting their teeth and driving forward into the Kingdom are not fit for it.

The other critical passage comes from Luke 14:

If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple.
Luke 14:26 (ESV)

In this verse Jesus is being clearly hyperbolic. As believers we don’t hate anyone. We’re called by Christ to sacrificial love of both neighbor and enemy. The statement to hate one’s family would have been extremely counter-cultural in the Jewish community and would have raised the eyebrows of anyone within earshot. Here Jesus puts explosive emphasis on the the point He made in the previous passage.

While He used this language to filter out those who were lukewarm in their commitment, He may have been doing it for their own good. Throughout scripture, when workers would were sent to proclaim the Kingdom, they were often sent in autonomous cells of two or three (Luke 10; Acts 13:1-3). This allowed them to stay under the radar and avoid attracting too much attention. Keeping a low profile was important since they were proclaiming that the world has a new King. While non-violent, spreading the gospel was a seditious act to both the Roman governing authorities and institutional Judaism. It was a risky and potentially dangerous enterprise.

Because of this, the Lord may have been telling would-be disciples that to follow Him was to travel light. The work was urgent and a battle zone was no place for a family. He needed those who were committed and focused on the mission without unnecessary distractions. Indeed, when I spent military time in Iraq I felt it necessary to “compartmentalize” any thoughts of my family–almost forgetting them so that I wouldn’t miss them, get depressed, and lose sight of my responsibilities. Jesus’s expectation may well have been a grace to the yet uncommitted.

Whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple.
Luke 14:27 (ESV)

The metaphor that Jesus chose for following Him was not a happy one. He associates it with the way a condemned criminal would carry the patibulum (the horizontal beam of the cross) on the way to being crucified. The criminal would carry the weight, struggling against that which is designed to bring him to an end. With the jeers of an angry mob, such criminals received no support and no assistance. They would suffer the crucifixion alone, eventually succumbing to a slow and painful death. Jesus tells us that those who are unwilling to subject themselves to such experiences for His name cannot be His disciple. This is a thought worthy of deep reflection.

While those who follow may never suffer a physical crucifixion, He will guarantee they will suffer a spiritual one. You may never be martyred for your faith, but would you be willing die to an offense? Ostensibly, this should be easier to deal with. If insulted by a brother or sister (whether intentionally or unintentionally) would you be willing to die to your pride and allow the offense to be absorbed into the the sufficiency of the Christ?

Like the patibulum, our spiritual crosses are fashioned to bring us to an end of ourselves. Mine are made to fit me. Yours are made to fit you. No two crosses are alike. Like Paul’s “thorn in the flesh”, Christ will use suffering in our lives as a precise instrument to rid us of something that is not of Him.

The cross is painful. We will suffer. But we have to trust the process. Will we trust Him by remaining on our cross until our flesh is brought to its end? Or is the cross simply too costly?

For which of you, desiring to build a tower, does not first sit down and count the cost, whether he has enough to complete it? Otherwise, when he has laid a foundation and is not able to finish, all who see it begin to mock him, saying, ‘This man began to build and was not able to finish.’ Or what king, going out to encounter another king in war, will not sit down first and deliberate whether he is able with ten thousand to meet him who comes against him with twenty thousand? And if not, while the other is yet a great way off, he sends a delegation and asks for terms of peace.
Luke 14:28-32 (ESV)

While the work and calling of Christ is urgent, it isn’t a decision to be taken flippantly. Jesus offers a solemn suggestion that anyone who might consider following Him count the cost before taking the first step. In this passage He gives two examples where success or failure of the goal hangs on meticulous consideration made beforehand. The stakes are high. Those who cannot perform their mission will jeopardize it. This idea runs contrary to today’s evangelistic salesmanship. Pressing people to “make a decision for Christ” before explaining what they’re really getting into can undermine the mission and lead to misunderstanding and a lukewarm faith.

Matthew, Peter, and Andrew’s decision to follow Christ is recorded for us in scripture as being spontaneous. Was Jesus contradicting His own advice by commanding them immediately follow?

We need to remember that every interaction Jesus had was made with an awareness of the person’s heart. His warnings to first consider the cost may have been targeted to a crowd that simply wasn’t prepared. The point is that anyone who seeks to follow Christ will either need to grasp the implications or, having recognized His unmistakable voice, respond to Christ’s resolute call as your first act of obedience.

Renouncing All Things

So therefore, any one of you who does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple.
Luke 14:33 (ESV)

Jesus summarizes the passage with the jarring statement that only those that renounce all that they have can be His disciple. But what did Jesus mean by “all that we have”?

At the highest level, every individual has three things: Their possessions, their image, and their will. Possessions are clearly understood as the things we own or are responsible for. A person’s image includes how they’re viewed by the world–their world-given position, their world-given authority, and their world-given identity. Their will includes their ability to make independent decisions and set the course of their lives.

First let’s talk about our possessions. What is it to renounce all that we own?

Here I will cautiously suggest that Jesus is not necessarily demanding that we give away all of our money and material possessions and enter a life of poverty. Throughout history, there have been tribes of Christianity that felt called to seek Christ through such a vow. But the early believers didn’t follow this as a rule. While Christianity thrived among the poor and middle-class, there were several well-to-do believers mentioned in scripture. Joseph of Cyprus, Dorcas, Cornelius, Sergius Paulus, Lydia, Jason, Pricilla, Aquila, Philemon and others are known to have likely been wealthy. How did this change under the headship of Christ? Rather than keeping their wealth for themselves, it became communal. The early church shared everything in common with other believers (Acts 4:32) and gave away their money as needs arose (1 Cor. 16:1-4). It was income redistribution–not through government taxation and social policy, but out of the voluntary love of Jesus Christ for one another. It was a voluntary socialism under the headship and driven by the glory of a loving and benevolent King. Aside from helping one another, money was offered up to advance the Kingdom by funding apostolic workers (travelling missionaries) whose work was often too itinerant to maintain study employment (1 Cor. 9:14).

When Jesus asks us to renounce our possessions, He’s asking us to hold them with an open hand. He’s asking us to trust Him to give to us and take from us without our grasping and clutching the things we think are ours. All those things are His now. We are merely stewards of them. He’s freed us to to trust in His provision for everything we need. Because of that trust, we’re now free to demonstrate love for others by the giving of our relative wealth to those who need it. In doing so we get to participate in God’s provision.

What about our image? What is it to renounce our position, authority, and world-given identity?

Again, I would suggest that Jesus is not asking us to give up our titles or positions. However, like Paul, we instead recognize the fleeting value of our accomplishments and choose to derive our identity from Christ alone (Philippians 3:4-8). You may have noticed that throughout the New Testament believers referred to one another by their first names only. They didn’t use surnames or titles. The reason they didn’t was that their surnames may have linked them to a family of noble lineage. Likewise, using titles may have linked them to an impressive and influential position of authority. To avoid such perceptions they used only their first names, for they viewed themselves as equals under Christ (Galatians 3:28).

When Jesus asks us to renounce our image, He’s telling us to let go of the prestige gained by the pursuits of this world. Our identities are no longer found in our professions or what we accomplish. He’s telling us to derive our identity from Him alone and the work of the Kingdom. (After all, they’re the only things that will last forever.) He’s telling us to lose our pride and drop our ego. Only the humble and contrite will enter the Kingdom. He invites us to find complete sufficiency in Him. The satisfaction that every person seeks ultimately finds its fulfillment in Jesus Christ. Anything else we can accomplish in the world’s eyes is just a shadow of our true Identity.

What does it mean to renounce our will?

Our will is part of our soul. Our soul is where we make decisions. In my view, every decision a person makes will fall into one of two categories: Moral decisions and non-moral decisions. Moral decisions are choices where the Lord has an opinion on the matter. We can either obey the Lord’s leading or ignore it (which is to sin). Non-moral decisions where the Lord has no opinion. We are free to choose with no moral consequences.

When we renounce our will, we’re renouncing our right to make moral decisions in opposition to the Lord’s leading. We’re instead committing to being mindful of the Spirit of Christ, allowing Him to direct us as He sees fit. It’s important to note that whether or not a decision is moral doesn’t always have to do with our understanding of “morality”. Instead, the word “moral” connotes the idea of God’s perfect will for us. It’s what He would want us to do. At times, the Lord may lead us to do something that doesn’t seem at the time to have moral weight. It may even seem insignificant. The important part is to keep our spiritual ears open so that we can hear the Lord can speak His will to us.

Why We Pay a Cost

Some may wonder, “If Jesus already paid the ultimate price, why is Christianity still costly for me?”

It’s a valid question. Here are a few thoughts to consider.

First, we understand that our purpose as believers today is to begin mending the fractured universe. This is done by manifesting the Kingdom here on earth. When explaining the Kingdom in parables, Jesus often emphasized its contradictory nature with the way the world operates: In order to be first, we have to be last. In order to live, we have to die. Similarly, because conclusive selfishness (sin) shattered the universe, conclusive sacrifice is required to mend it together again. While Jesus inaugurated the Kingdom through His conclusive sacrifice, His followers continue the work of mending the universe their daily sacrifices. Sacrifice of course, is costly.

Second, as we alluded to earlier, God uses the opposition of this world for our own discipline and training. In a previous post we discussed the fact that we will one day rule and reign with Christ in the reconciled creation. This kind of responsibility isn’t handed over without preparation. Any soldier training for war will tell you that preparation requires routine, discipline, and sacrifice. In the sense that a soldier could be doing other things, it’s costly. Jesus uses the battlefield of our day-to-day experiences living in a broken world to train and grow us for our future responsibilities. Scripture speaks extensively about this in Hebrews 12.

Third, it’s important to understand that the closer we follow Jesus and the more we yield our lives, the more He will become a part of us. Over time, our lives will begin to appear more like His, both in His holiness and in the tribulation He experienced. As we become like Him, the world will come to despise us as they despised Him. This will be costly to us. But this is the depth to which we identify with Christ.

So the cost we pay is not that Christ’s sacrifice wasn’t sufficient. It’s a consequence of our identification with Him.

Re-thinking Our War

The decision to follow Jesus Christ is a formal declaration of war against all systems opposed to Jesus Christ and His Kingdom. But this may not be what you think it means. In the middle-ages, church leaders led the church to take up arms to engage in “holy wars” against Muslim occupation. Today, much of the church sees themselves in a “culture war” to save the country from immorality and socialism (or injustice and capitalism). But both of these so-called “wars” represent distractions from the real war to which we’re called. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood (Ephesians 6:12). While it does involve significant conflict, the rules of engagement require an entirely different way of thinking.

Our war is fought on two fronts.

The first front is at the leading edge of the Kingdom where it directly engages the world. Here, the Kingdom is proclaimed, demonstrated, and embodied by believers. It’s where the new King is declared and the warning is given. It’s where divine life is offered to a weary world. In some places, it’s where disciples are martyred.

What’s important to understand is that those who carry a spirit of opposition or indifference to Christ are themselves in bondage. They are merely unwitting pawns of the principalities and powers lurking behind the systems that influence them. They are powerless against them and most are completely unaware of their situation (Luke 23:34; Acts 7:60). For this reason our battles are not fought with weapons, threats, or insults. Rarely are they fought with debate, logic, or reasoning. Instead, our war is fought by demonstrating Christ’s love. It’s fought with trust, hope, charity, patience, and humility. It’s fought by dying before we arrive on the front lines. When we become less, Christ can become more. Only He has the ability to deal with the issues of man’s spirit. Our role is to be merely vessels of that grace.

The second front is within the soul of every believer. It represents the exercise of spiritual violence against our flesh which continually seeks to assert itself over Christ’s rule. It should be noted that it’s actually our flesh that perceives and rails against the cost of discipleship. As discussed in an earlier post, the flesh is more than our “sinful nature”. It’s residual sentient evil that remains in us even after the Spirit has made His home in ours. It’s the flesh who recommends our sin, threatens us with fear, and pleads for self preservation. He desperately wants to retain control but has no authority in the Christian unless we grant it. He will beg, plead, make promises, and try to cut deals with you, doing just about anything to retain control.

The flesh is the one for whom the cost is too heavy. Pay him no heed. He is worthless and offers nothing but fear and death. Again, while we are no match for the flesh in and of ourselves, the Spirit is more than capable of dealing with him when we defer our wills to Him. Only by the Spirit can we put to death the deeds of the flesh (Romans 8:13). Only by the Spirit can we truly follow Christ where He leads. This doesn’t mean we don’t play a part in the conflict. We will participate in this struggle, experiencing it viscerally as the power of Christ works through us.

Unlike a conventional war with the sound of explosions and gunfire, our war is most often fought in the quiet. It’s a war fought in the moments. Our battles are lost or won in our souls. It’s there where we either follow Christ into the strength and guidance of the Spirit, or bow the knee to the empty demands of the flesh.

Will we choose to heed the Lord’s subtle nudge to spend the time interceding in prayer? Or will we ignore that nudge to watch another episode on Netflix?

Do we let go of a stinging insult? Or do we let anger and resentment live rent-free in our hearts?

Will we choose to view women as sexual objects late at night on the internet? Or will we choose to view all women through the loving and eyes of Christ?

Will we embrace the awkwardness of extending a helpful hand to another in need? Or will we agree with the flesh that we’re in too much of a hurry to help?

Jesus Christ is our Leader. The grand strategy of our war is His sovereign responsibility. Our responsibility is to be faithful in the moments.

Lastly, it should be reassuring to know that our war has already been won. But this doesn’t mean there isn’t work to be done. In every war in history there was a turning point where victory becomes guaranteed despite the battles that would follow. In World War II, the allied success of Operation Overlord represented this turning point on the eastern front. In the Pacific, it was the Battle of Midway. While these successes turned the tide that ultimately lead to victory, momentum had to be maintained until victory was realized through unconditional surrender.

In our war, Jesus Christ’s victory over death was the turning point that will ensure our victory. It’s just a matter of time. The enemy knows this and continually engages in a scorched earth campaign against humanity as it retreats back to hell. As the Kingdom advances, we free those held in the prison camps of the enemy. As they join our ranks, we press on, carrying the banner of the King until He returns.

Practical Application

The first step in following our Lord into a deep relationship is to commit to what it really means to be a disciple of Christ. Of course, it’s impossible to fully appreciate the full magnitude of the cost at the beginning. Jesus is faithful to lead us into deeper commitment through illumination and discovery. But we should be absolutely clear with what He’s already plainly told us in scripture.

This week I would ask you to consider the following questions. Don’t skim them. Read them slowly, preferably in a quiet place. Let them sink in. Let the Lord speak to you through them. Let Him show you how these questions might represent your fears. As He does, let Him take away those fears as you fix your eyes to His.

Are you willing to follow the unencumbered path of your resident King?

Are you willing to shed the safe structures and habits of your life and venture where He might lead?

Are you willing to stand in opposition to the Godless elements of your culture?

Are you willing to pursue Christ even above your family members and closest friends?

Are you willing to accept rejection from those you love for the sake of your King?

Are you willing to put the mission of the Kingdom above all else?

Are you willing to experience the emotional, spiritual, and physical suffering of Christ as He did?

Are you willing to renounce your possessions, your identity, and your will?

Are you willing to abandon all and follow Him to your appointed terminus (even one of obscurity)?

Only you can answer these questions for yourself. No one can answer them for you. And you will not just answer them once. As you follow the path of Christ they will be continually set before you.

Embrace the cost. Welcome to the war.

Jesus can be found in the most unlikely places.

My taste in music is concentrated at both ends of the spectrum. I love classical baroque–especially by lesser known composers like Georg Muffat and Leonardo Leo. But I’m also a connoisseur of modern alternative hard rock and metalcore music from bands like Wage War and Silent Planet. Aside from a few 80’s songs, there’s not too much I like in between.

The reason I like those two extremes is because the emotions they evoke can transcend what’s considered acceptable, normal, or appropriate. Sometimes a song’s message can’t be constrained to the expressive range of popular music. Some truth needs to be said loudly, with depth, passion, and conviction. This includes the truth we bear as believers.

If you’re unfamiliar, metalcore is a musical genre characterized by complex guitar work, driving rhythms, and what’s known in the industry as “unclean vocals”. Metalcore lyrics aren’t sung–they’re screamed. I’ll be the first one to tell you this style of music isn’t for everyone.

While writing this post, I was reminded of the song Decimation and Burial by the band Oh, Sleeper. I love this song because for me it speaks metaphorically to the depth of conviction, sacrifice, and ferocity to which we’re called to follow Christ into a war that costs us everything. The lyrics are simple but penetrating. Chaotic riffs drive home a sense of spiritual brutality. For those brave enough to give it a go, here’s a link to the lyric video (along with your strobe/seizure warning).

Be warned, it may be a bit intense if you’re used to listening to what’s popular on the radio. But I think it conveys a facet of the Kingdom to which some of us need exposure.

Return to the Pursuing the King series