How Much Is Too Much To Give?

How much is too much to give to Jesus?

Can you give too much of your time to Him? Too much of your energy? Too much of your resources? Too much of your life? Is there a limit to how devoted and surrendered you should be? Can expressions of love and devotion to Jesus ever be too costly and extravagant?

THAT’S TOO MUCH

I remember years ago hearing a sermon from a pastor where he talked about giving a commencement speech at a high school graduation. His message was about holding nothing back. He told missionary stories, He talked about dying to self, and he expounded on the glories of Christ. He did all he could to convince these young students that Jesus was worthy of the greatest and most radical sacrifices; that He was worthy of their whole lives. After the speech, a father of one of the students, a Christian himself, found the pastor and began rebuking him, saying something to the degree of, “How dare you try and persuade my daughter toward this kind of sacrifice. Loving Jesus is fine, but we don’t want it to consume her life.”

I was so blown away by that story when I heard it, that someone could claim to love Jesus and yet put limits on how much He is worth. But as the years have gone by, I have since realized that even if I don’t say it like that father did, I live it. Everyday I live like Jesus is only worth a tenth of my finances, only worth a quarter of my energy and only worth two-thirds of my life. I hold back from going all in because I rationalize in my head that giving Him everything would be unreasonable. It would be foolish and wasteful. And obviously Jesus wouldn’t want me to be foolish and wasteful with the things He has given me.

A BEAUTIFUL THING

For the last week or so I have been stuck in Matthew 26, reading over and over the story of the woman who anoints Jesus. This woman (who was Mary, according to John’s gospel) takes an alabaster flask of very expensive ointment, and pours it all over Jesus’ head while he reclines at the table in Simon the Leper’s house. Now, to our twenty-first century minds it is such a wild story. Why would anyone do such a thing? But at the time it was a pretty normal situation. It was just good hospitality in the first century to anoint your guest’s heads with oil, especially distinguished guests. The crazy part seems to be not that she anointed Jesus’ head, but just how much of the expensive ointment she anointed Him with.

As soon as the disciples see it, they say, “Why this waste? For this could have been sold for a large sum and given to the poor” (Mat. 26-8-9). Their interpretation of the event is that the woman wasted this ointment on Jesus. It was irrational, illogical, unwise, foolish and wasteful to put it all on His head. She should have perhaps put a little bit on Him and used the rest for a different and more rational purpose. But the woman clearly wasn’t thinking about what the most rational thing to do was. She was interested in performing a lavish gesture of love, obviously because she thought Jesus was worthy of it. She thought that this would be a good use of what she had.

Well, somehow Jesus becomes aware that the disciples are grumbling about this woman’s actions and he speaks directly to them, beginning with these words, “Why do you trouble the woman? For she has done a beautiful thing to me” (Mat. 26.10).

EVERYTHING

Put it all together. The woman makes an incredibly costly and extravagant sacrifice to honor Jesus. She dumps out the entire bottle of what Matthew says is a “very expensive ointment.” If John’s account of Mary anointing Jesus is in fact this same story, then it’s a bottle worth tens of thousands of dollars, upwards of an average year’s salary. What a waste! From a logical and rational standpoint, the disciples are absolutely right. The bottle could have been sold and the money could have gone to the poor or to a thousand other things. You would think Jesus would have rebuked the woman for being a bad steward. Instead, he approves wholeheartedly of what she has done. He welcomes it. He says to his disciples with the woman probably in ear shot, “She has done a beautiful thing to me.”

The more I read this story the more I am convinced that when it comes to us giving to Jesus, there is no such thing as waste. There is no surrender too great, no act of devotion too strong, and no gift too extravagant, because He is worth it. He is worthy of it. If the living creatures can say in the book of Revelation, “Worthy is the Lamb who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing,” then He worthy of anything I could possibly give, even the entirety of my short little life on this earth (Rev. 5.12).

The reality is that a Christian life lived well, will always look strange to others; it will look like a waste. But that is ok, because at the end of the day all that matters is if the One whom we are living for approves of how we have lived. Giving your life to Jesus on the mission field may look like a waste to the world, but Jesus says, “He/she has done a beautiful thing to me.” Giving your finances to furthering the work of Christ in the world may look like a waste to even people in the church, but Jesus, “He/she has done a beautiful thing to me.” Laying down your time, your career, your energy, your resources at the feet of Christ may seem to everyone around you too radical of a sacrifice, but Jesus says “He/she has done a beautiful thing to me.”

While we think about how we will live for Jesus today, and tomorrow and next year, the question we should ask should never be, “Is this too much to give to Jesus?”

If the woman with the alabaster jar has taught me anything, it is that Jesus is worthy of it all.

Book Review: "The Soul-Winning Church"

“The Soul Winning Church: Six Keys to Fostering a Genuine Evangelistic Community” by J.A. Medders and Doug Logan Jr. The Good Book Company, 2024.

I am probably the thousandth person by now to make a post like this about the “Soul-Winning Church,” but I have to say it. This book was fantastic. It was to my heart what kerosene is to a fire. Fuel!

I have lived and pastored for a long time now with an always increasing frustration and confusion as to why our churches aren’t making more disciples. Why are the baptismal waters so still? Why is so much church growth dependent on other church’s decline? What are we doing wrong or missing all together? What needs to change? I have walked around with these questions swirling around in my head, but not ever really being able to put them into words, let alone find their corresponding answers. And then this book showed up in the mail.

In only 164 pages (making it super accessible and easy to hand out to almost anyone) Medders and Logan do a massive job, and they do it well. They give hope to pastors like me that our little churches can be soul-winning churches; that evangelism can be ingrained in the culture of our churches and not just be another category of ministry, and that we can love the people that come from other places, without settling for transfer growth as the ultimate means of growth.

Medders and Logan identify in the book six key areas of focus for becoming a church that reaches the lost. Each key is just as convicting, convincing and compelling as the next, well at the same time being so obviously biblical. I am not lying when I tell you that I only made it through chapter one before stopping to spend the next week reflecting on the first key and laying out plans for walking through the chapter with my elders at our next meeting (which is exactly what we did).

I think if you’re a pastor you need to read this. I think if your plumber you need to read this. I think that this book needs to be read by home groups, men’s groups, women’s groups, youth groups, and by everyone else in the church that’s not in a group. At the end of the day, I don’t think that I am the only one feeling this perplexing frustration about the lack of souls being won. Something is missing, and Medders and Logan identify that missing piece. They remind readers how central soul-winning is to the mission of the church, and then they go to work on equipping the church for that mission.

We have got to be churches that are consumed with winning souls, because Christ is consumed with winning souls! And if there is a book that can play even the smallest part in further fueling that passion and preparing Christians to walk it out, then in my mind, that is a must read.

As Spurgeon writes (and as Medders and Logan quote him saying), “Soul-winning is the chief business of the Christian minister; indeed, it should be the main pursuit of every believer. We should each say with Simon peter, “I go afishing,” and with Paul our aim should be, “That I might by all means save some.”[1]

Grab it, read it, and lets go!

[1] C.H. Spurgeon, The Soul Winner: How to Lead Sinners to the Savio (Fleming H. Revell. 1895), p 9.

To Live MUST Be Christ

Seasons of suffering do not always produce our clearest and most logical thoughts. The coming together of things like shock, sadness, anger, and confusion can sometimes lead to some wildly unhealthy and even irrational conclusions and decisions. And yet, I would argue that those difficult seasons of our lives can also end up being the moments when we see things with a surprising amount of clarity.

THE MONTH OF FEBRUARY

On February 4th, 2024, I went to the hospital to have a lump looked at. I expected to be home that evening with some medication to take care of a very mundane diagnosis. However, things do not always happen as we expect them to. That initial visit began for me a cascade of tests and appointments. The emergency room visit led to an ultrasound; the ultrasound led to another doctor’s appointment; that appointment led to a meeting with a specialist; the meeting with a specialist led to surgery; surgery led to more tests and scans; tests and scans led to lots of waiting, and all of which together led to the longest month of my life. Ill have you know that in my little part of North America, February is routinely the coldest month of the year, which seems to always make it the longest month of the year (even with only 28 or 29 days). As it would happen, February 2024 was the warmest February my town had experienced in ages, but the longest February I had ever lived.

Pretty early into the journey of tests and appointments I became aware of the expected diagnosis, and it wasn’t great. The effect of this knowledge was a flood of emotions and a spinning mind. I quickly called my elders team to request relief from preaching for the foreseeable future because I was finding myself unable to focus on anything except the situation before me. For days on end, I did nothing but walk. I would set out in the morning into the mountains and spend 8 hours of the work day walking in silence down dirt roads, petitioning the Lord and trying to come to grips with the likelihood of a shortened life. If you would have asked me in those days while I was walking those long dirt roads, if I was thinking clearly, I probably would have said “Unlikely.” Even while I was going through it, I could recognize in myself the list that I began with: shock, sadness, anger and confusion. This cocktail of emotions had me far too preoccupied to be imparting much wisdom or making any life-changing decisions. And yet, as I look back on my journal entries from that month, I realize that in some ways I was thinking about my life with a clarity that I’d never had before.

I won’t make a habit of sharing my journal on the internet, but for the sake of the topic let me share a brief exert. February 6th, while sitting on a flat rock on a mountain side with a Bible flipped open to Mark 8.34 and Philippians 1.21 on my mind, I wrote, “I have never been more sure that death is real. I have never been more sure that Jesus lives. This season of life has changed death for me. And it has changed life for me. To die is inevitably a gain. And to live must be Christ. Anything less makes no sense. If God died for me, if He lives, if I will be raised up with Him, if He is all satisfying, good and sufficient, how could He have half of me and the world have the rest? How could fear and worry have any place in me? How could my life not be surrendered completely in joy? Either I would I have missed who Jesus is and what He has done and promised, or I have would have failed to believe it.”

THE POWER OF facing your mortality

If you haven’t guessed yet, I was diagnosed with cancer. As I type here on the morning of March 11th, just over one month after the original diagnosis, I have been declared cancer free. I still have some hoops to jump through, but for the most part I have a clean bill of health, for which I am thankful beyond what words can even express. Maybe some what oddly though, I am also thankful for everything that has led up to this point. I wouldn’t trade February 2024 for anything. It was this trial and all the pain and uncertainty it entailed that led me to thinking about the gospel in ways that I pray I will never recover from.

You see, before this whole cancer thing, death to me was just other people’s reality. As a pastor I would go deal with it on their behalf, but it never felt too real for me personally. It was something abstract, even kind of theoretical. The result, I realize now looking back, was a very cavalier following of Jesus. No real urgency. No Psalm 42 like desperation. No comprehensive surrender. And it makes sense, because without a real sense of death and just how certain it is and deserving of it we are, how can we ever truly appreciate the life Jesus came to give us?

So, there I was, just casually following Jesus, trusting more in myself then not. Following Jesus at a safe distance. And then cancer hit, and suddenly death felt like it was on my doorstep, or I on its. For the first time the end felt absolutely real; my life felt fragile and finite, and the gospel, and in particular the cost of following Jesus, made more sense than it ever had.

Let me try to explain. In Mark 8.34 Jesus lays out the requirements of anyone that would want to follow Him, and it is nothing short of everything. He calls them to deny themselves and take up their crosses, which is to essentially say, “You must throw your life away and recklessly abandon yourself to God.” That is a steep price to follow. It couldn’t be any steeper. Who on earth would pay that price? Well, only the one who understands the value of what they are receiving. Jesus goes on to say in the next verse, “For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake and the gospel’s will save it.” In other words, what is being received in the relinquishment of our lives is not just some added happiness, it is life itself. True life, eternal life, new life in Christ. A gift of infinite value!

Well if you are receiving something that is worth more than anything, what happens to the cost of that something? It disappears. And when the value of the life Jesus offers is understood, then the cost of following Him is no longer even worthy of being called a cost. As Dietrich Bonhoeffer so perfectly put it, “Such grace is costly because it calls us to follow, and it is grace because it calls us to follow Jesus Christ. It is costly because it costs a man his life and it is grace because it gives a man the only true life worth living.”

THE COST, NAY, THE GRACE OF FOLLOWING JESUS

Here’s the thing, I had loved and followed Jesus for many years. I had contemplated and rested in the Gospel for many years. But I had always wavered in how much of my life I gave to Christ and how much I held back. Simply, because while never really comprehending the reality of the death I deserve, I had never understood the value of and felt the consequent gratitude for the life that Jesus gives. But when death became for me a real reality and an immediate possibility, then the abundant life that Jesus died to give me (the already and not yet) finally appeared as the real, invaluable, undeserving, and infinite gift that it truly is. And when that happened, the incredible cost of following Him dissolved into worship. It became the only logical response. The cost, as Bonhoeffer explains, was transformed from cost into grace.

It is probably good that I wasn’t operating heavy machinery last month. But in terms of thinking about Jesus and about my living and dying, I don’t believe I have ever thought so clearly as when I sat on a mountainside and paraphrased for myself the apostle Paul, “To die is inevitably a gain. And to live must be Christ. Anything less makes no sense.”