Self–denial

Mark 8: 34 – 9: 1

Rev. Peter R Green, Sunday morning, 25 Mar, 2007

MY WIFE, Chris, used to work for May Murray Neighbourhood Centre. She experienced an annual frustration when they put on a function for Seniors’ Week.

Seniors’ Week is always close enough to Easter that it almost means individual catering for each person who comes. Seniors’ Week falls in the Lent season. The Copts have one set of rules for what they can or can’t eat in Lent, the Greeks have another set, the Catholics have another. Some Anglicans follow the Catholics, some keep their own personal vows, and the rest of the Protestants can do anything or nothing for Lent.

Then, the Buddhists would only eat vegetarian food. That was another layer of complexity.

To make matters worse, most of the people attending were fairly old, and they were not going to change anything for anyone. So there was absolutely no flexibility.

I went to a couple of these functions with people from the Drop In Centre, and the one thing I really did find nice about the meal time was that the Vietnamese as a group always served the others before serving themselves.

I have very mixed feelings about Lent. Jesus calls us to deny ourselves, so we can remember that if we fast for Lent, and do without certain foods or pleasures. But fasting itself sometimes becomes a secret self–indulgence.

Once we let any ritual substitute for reality, it risks becoming self–indulgence.

People who can’t be flexible, people who have to stick with some religious practice through thick and thin, always run the risk of serving their own needs, of indulging their desire to look super–spiritual, and of not truly denying themselves as Jesus taught us to.

Jesus says,

 “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me...”

We Baptists don’t have rules about keeping Lent. And that is fine. The Bible has no rule about Lent. In fact, the New Testament doesn’t even make rules about fasting, except to warn against wrong attitudes.

But the first Christians fasted, and fasted often. We could learn a lot about fasting from watching them. They used it as a tool, not as a ritual. They understood what true self–denial is, and that kept fasting in its right place.

Today, we are looking at purpose, at process and at direction in our Christian life. We will look at that in particular reference to what Jesus himself did in dying on the cross.

PURPOSE
Jesus speaks to all who would come after him. This is how we come after him.

I went to an Outward Bound course years ago. We spent most of a month hiking in the Hawkesbury area, mostly in thick bushland.

At times we found a roadway, and we could walk across the full width of the roadway, because we could see for maybe a mile in each direction if a car was coming.

But in thick bush, you can’t just wander where you like. On a narrow bush track, someone takes the lead, and the rest come after him.

One day we were walking along and the entire group suddenly stopped. I was bringing up the rear, making sure that no one was falling behind.

We stood still for quite a while, and some people were asking, “What is happening?” and others were saying, “Sshh!”

When we began moving again, we found a space where we could all gather around. Our leader, the one we were coming after, had stepped over a fallen tree, and realised that there was a black snake on the log between his legs. All he could do was stand there and hope that the snake moved on and didn’t bite.

And when you come after someone, you more when he moves and you stop when he stops; you sit when he sits and you stand when he stands. It is very simple, but it is not always easy. We wanted to keep walking, but Graham (I think that was our leader) had stopped and we had to, too.

Jesus is looking for people who want to come after him.

I get worried sometimes. I see a very strong tendency in our Protestant circles to neglect the idea of coming after Jesus.

We talk about inviting him into our hearts, and that is a powerful metaphor, a powerful image of what we are doing. We need our lives to be filled with Jesus.

But too many people ask him in with no intention of following him. Jesus is the good–luck charm that they take around while they do what they want to do.

I won’t judge here. We all so easily do what we desire to do, we all so easily turn from Jesus and his loving purpose for our lives. But how many people don’t even start! They prayed the sinner’s prayer, they believed, but they never became disciples.

Are you happy that Jesus died on a cross for you? Do you hate his word that a servant is not above his master? Do you despise following Jesus if it means taking up the cross?

Jesus wants people of purpose. The early radicals, the Anabaptists, the Baptists, the Quakers, all declared the need to follow Jesus. But we like the warm, fuzzy option of inviting him into our hearts. This is a fireside Jesus, not the real Jesus who had no place to lay his head at night.

Let’s determine, let’s resolve, to come after Jesus.

PROCESS
Then there is the process, the means by which we come after Jesus.

Jesus says,

...he must deny himself, and take up his cross...

There is self–denial, and there is taking up the cross.
You can’t substitute a ritual when God demands reality. When Jesus says,

deny yourself and take up your cross,

he is not talking about doing without chocolate or wearing a silver cross around our neck.

Lent is not the real thing. Fasting is not the real thing, It can be practice for the real thing, but practice isn’t the real thing.

In World War II, they needed lots of fighter pilots to defend England from the German bombers. Many of the pilots only had a handful of hours’ training on Hurricanes or Spitfires before they faced the German Messerschmidts.

One thing they had to know was what to do when they confronted an enemy aircraft. So they had to learn the methods: how to dive so that your engine didn’t lose fuel and cut out, which way to turn so that you turned more sharply than they could, how to fly next to the rest of your flight so you could protect each other without crashing into each other.

They had to learn those things without ever coming near an enemy fighter. They learned it as a ritual: stick forward, for speed, bank left, watch the horizon... And then, when it came to the real thing, they knew what to do without even thinking.

It is good to practice by fasting, by keeping Lent or whatever you do. It doesn’t make you holier. It doesn’t make God love you more. God loves you infinitely much. His love goes on forever. You hear that over and over in the Bible:

Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good,
For his covenant love lasts forever.

But Jesus wants us to go into the battle with him, to come after him when the road is rough and steep, all the way keeping our eyes upon Jesus, who alone has power to keep.

Sometimes people e-mail me for advice. I don’t pass it on, because their stories are usually private. But what I notice is that many of these people write because the road has become too rough, and they don’t think they can keep going.

If you have been a Christian for any length of time, you will understand exactly what that is about. You want to give up. You want to turn your back oin your faith. Perhaps you want to leave everything you love behind and start over again: new name, new place, new set of circumstances.

That is particularly when we have to deny ourselves and come after Jesus. “I want to do this, it would be easy to do it, but I choose not to. I will follow Jesus all the way.”That is the real thing. Practice by all means, but learn what is real self–denial, and what isn’t.

Our real character is not shown by what we stand for when life is comfortable and we face no hardship; it is shown by what we stand for when everything and everyone calls us fools and stones us for our stand.

Jesus looks for people who face the facts, understand the risks, and choose not to be controlled by their own wants and desires, but by the will of God revealed in Jesus our Lord.

Just in case anyone doesn’t know the price of denying ourselves, Jesus puts it another way. We must take up our cross.

Sadly, too many Christians have completely misunderstood this. And we misunderstand Jesus most frequently when we are unwilling to pay the price he demands.

As I said, we don’t take up our cross by wearing a silver cross around our neck.

I have no axe to grind with people wearing a cross. It is a reminder of the fact that Jesus died for you and for me.

Maybe wearing a cross is more costly these days than it was, because wearing the symbols of your faith is bound to attract criticism.

But wearing a piece of jewellery doesn’t qualify as taking up your cross.

Other people think that patiently bearing sickness is taking up your cross.

Many years ago, a woman who had pernicious anaemia told me, “But we all have our cross to bear.”

I’d heard it said before in relation to sickness. But she went on to explain that she felt this would mean special blessing to her.

That’s absolute nonsense, though I only said something like, “I think that Jesus’ was nailed up, and didn’t die of an illness.” But she didn’t get it.

Bearing sickness without great complaint isn’t taking up your cross.

When Jesus took up his cross, he knew it was the first step to being killed — not just dying. He knew it meant being robbed of his life for no just cause.

For us to take up our cross is to identify with Jesus, to be prepared to forfeit our lives so as to follow him wherever he leads, even through the valley of the shadow of death.

I read in the paper on Wednesday night that three of those terrorists who beheaded the Christian schoolgirls have been imprisoned.

Those girls show what taking up your cross means in some societies. The mere fact that they were from Christian villages meant that they were at risk of death.

I am not saying that there has not been fault on both sides in such places. But these girls hadn’t done anything but be schoolgirls from a Christian village.

And Jesus had not killed anyone. He had not injured someone. He hadn’t urged rebellion or murder. He told people to put God’s rule first in their lives, and he criticised those who claimed to put God first, but didn’t. And that got him killed. He’d overturned tables and driven out animals, because these things breached the law and no one was doing anything about it because too many were benefitting from it.

So they took him, they nailed him up on a cross, they left him to die.

But he had already denied himself. He had already chosen to put God first, no matter what.

So he was ready when it came to taking up his cross.

Sometimes we look around us. We see even Christians pleasing themselves, choosing against the Kingdom of God. They seem to be getting what they want — or, at least, not having to face inconvenience and disruption to their lifestyle.

It can be very tempting. “Why can’t I do that?” And we go further. “If he can steal, why can’t I go a step further and do what I want to do?” That is a time when we need to say, “I deny myself, even if it means death.”

We may never face death for our faith, but we don’t even face putting extra time aside to proclaim the gospel to others. We have a group of socialist activists living in one of the houses in this street, and they always have something on the boil to convert people to their point of view. What do we have going for Christ?

FOLLOWING JESUS

So there we have it. coming after Jesus involves a process of choosing God’s Kingdom above our own desires, and taking up the cross. Our entire life is a process of participation in Jesus’ suffering and death.

But there is one more step.
Jesus says,

Follow me.

The problem is that far too often our idea of faith is static. It doesn’t move. We say, “I am prepared to deny myself,” but we remain where we are. We say, “I will take up my cross,” but we don’t move anywhere.

Jesus wants people who will come where he leads them.

Imagine a soldier, called up for a war. He signs away his life. He knows that soldiers die in the course of their work. He is prepared for that. He knows that a soldier is under Military Regulations, and can no longer expect that civilian rules apply. He takes up his rifle, ready to do battle.

But the command comes, “Get ready to leave in the morning for Iraq!” And our soldier says, “Oh no: you go without me!”

That’s not what a soldier does. If the command is, “March!” he marches. If the command is, “Right wheel!” he follows his troop to the right. If the command is, “Halt!” he stops dead. There is no option but to follow the leader.

But too many of us sign the papers and then say we prefer not to walk all the way with Jesus, the Author and Perfecter of our faith.

It all boils down to our false idea that Jesus takes our place and we go free. Yes, he does take our place — so that we are not set before the execution squad. And we do go free — so that we are free to go where he leads us.

That is the secret behind all the great Christians of the past: St Francis, Savonarola, George Fox, John Wesley. They denied themselves, not just as a ritual or a form, but in reality. They took up their cross, facing persecution and threats of death. And they followed Jesus wherever he took them.

When we, as God’s people, choose to do the same, revival will surely come!

© Peter R. Green 2007. Permission is granted for quotation in full for non-commercial purposes provided that authorship is acknowledged and this copyright notice is displayed with the text. Portions also copyright The Bible, NIV (Zondervan Ltd.)