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.”

He Is Not Suprised By Your Brokenness

Have you ever thought that you were too muddy to come to Jesus? Like He was going to be caught off guard and ultimately offended by the messiness and griminess of your life; by all those past mistakes as well as all the habits that your still roommates with today?

I will just assume your answer is a yes, just like it was at some point for most of us (all of us) who have ever come to Jesus. That begs the next question, are we so naive to think that Jesus knew/knows everything about us, except how rotten we were/are? The Bible says wild things like this: that God knows the number of hairs on our head; that He has searched us and known us, down to the thoughts in our mind; that He knew before the foundation of the world that we would be made holy in His sight and that we would do good works that He had prepared for us to do. And yet, you think He didn’t see or realize that we all were or still are some broken down raggedy old train wrecks?

Remember what Jesus told Peter? It was a harsh reality for Peter, but it should be like music to the ears of the souls of those who realize they are just like Peter. Matthew 26.34, “Jesus said to him, ‘Truly, I tell you, this very night, before the rooster crows, you will deny me three times.’” Jesus knew! He knew exactly what Peter, His own disciple, was going to do. He knew it and He still loved Him. He knew it and He still went to the cross for Him. He knew it, and He still showed up after He had stepped out of that tomb, to restore Peter to Himself.

Don’t be so foolish to think that Jesus is in the dark as to the darkness in your life. He is all knowing, which means He knows the good and the bad. He knows exactly where we have been, what we have done, and even what we are still going to do. He knows the ugliness and He knew it before He went to the cross, and He still went for us. He knows it and He still loves us.

If our sin has ever been a stumbling block for us in coming to Jesus let it be so no more.

Remember Peter.

And then remember Jesus, “But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” (Romans 5.8)

Human Signposts

I remind people from the pulpit on a weekly or semi-weekly basis that if they are Christians then they are God’s witnesses. They have been saved to now witness to the reality of the Gospel. As Luke writes and Jesus says in Acts 1.8 “But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth.”

In saying that though and quoting Scripture that says the same, I do realize that the idea of being a witness can seem overwhelming. I can picture people’s minds racing with questions as mine has often done, “Do I have to stand in a pulpit? Do I have to speak in public? Do I have to prepare sermons? What if I don’t know what to say? What if I say the wrong thing? Where do I even begin?”

If this is you at all then let me try to put your mind at ease by attempting to describe the act of witnessing in a very simple way. Maybe you will realize in this that being a witness to Christ is less intimidating and complicated than it sounds.

We all know how to point at stuff. My son learned to point before he could walk. Well witnessing is just pointing. Pointing away from yourself and to the thing you are bearing witness about. Jesus calling Christians to be witnesses is Him simply calling them point; to be signposts; to be arrows that point to back to Him. And the first way we point is by living like Him. We live lives that imitate Jesus. We live in such a way that people see can something different in us. We live lives that people are curious about, lives that as Peter says, make them ask “for a reason for the hope that is in you” (1 Peter 3.15).

The second way we point is the response we give when they ask for a reason because they have seen this different reality in our lives. At this point we must use words, but this too does not have to be so intimidating. It’s still just pointing. You know the beautiful thing about witnessing to Jesus is that the gospel writers have already done the hard work of telling His story. The words that we speak then are just to try and point people back to the gospels, to the Words and the Word of God. Of course, we have to be able people to tell the story of Jesus and explain the gospel enough to point to it. But it’s the Words of Scripture that are inspired, that stir that affections, and that ultimately lead to salvation.

At the end of the day witnessing is just pointing. I don’t say that to belittle the job of a witness or to be careless about the role, but just to simplify it. Anyone who loves something will inevitably be able to point to that something in word and deed, and honestly it will probably come quite naturally. Perhaps the key then to being a good witness is just loving Jesus and seeking to love Him more than we do.

Momentary Affliction

One of our key tactics as humans for enduring times of suffering is thinking about that suffering in terms of its duration. Before the dentist jabs his patient’s gums with a needle, he says, “This will only hurt for a moment.” The sleep deprived parents of newborn twins tell one another, “This is just a season.” The coach encourages his straining, sweating athletes by yelling, “Keep going, your almost done! Your almost there!” There is something powerful about knowing that something is not forever and that there is an end in sight. It just gives you an ability to endure things that are hard to endure. You can find a motivation to get to the finish line because you know that then there will be a level of relief once you cross it.

In 2 Corinthians, when the apostle Paul speaks of suffering for Jesus’ sake, he calls it this: “Light momentary affliction” (2 Cor 4.17). He goes on to say some extraordinary things directly after this phrase, unpacking what he means by it, though I would like to pay attention just to that phrase itself for a moment and specifically to the word ‘momentary.’

It is clear from his letter to the Corinthians that Paul is undergoing a lot of pain for the Gospel. He writes things like, “For we were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself” (2 Cor 1.8), and “We who live are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake” (2 Cor 4.11). And yet incredibly, he endures. He writes, only a few verses later, “So we do not lose heart” (2 Cor 4.16). But how? How does he not lose heart? How does Paul endure so joyfully?

At least one answer is that he interprets his suffering in terms of its duration. He understands that it is momentary. Now to that you might rightfully say, “How is it momentary Paul? It seems to be nonstop.” To which I think the apostle Paul would say, “It is momentary compared to eternity.”

Imagine if there was waiting for you an unending and infinite time of relief. And not just relief but an infinite time of infinite joy. An eternity of worshipping the One worthy of worship. An eternity of knowing the One you were created to know. An eternity of dwelling in the presence of the almighty God. What is a lifetime compared to an eternity? It’s a moment. More than that, what is a lifetime of suffering compared to an eternity of joy? It’s a moment.

Even if the rest of Paul’s human life was to be unrelenting pain and suffering for the sake of the Gospel, he understood that compared to the relief that was coming for him, that pain and suffering was momentary. Compared to eternity, it would be over in a flash.

The reality for Christians today is the same as it was for Paul, that there really is waiting for us after the race is over an eternity of infinite joy in the presence of our Creator. Which means that no matter what we suffer in this life for the sake of Christ; no matter how long it goes on for, what was true of Paul’s suffering is true of ours as well: that in comparison to eternity, it is momentary.

It is light momentary affliction that is preparing for you an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison.

This will only hurt for a moment. Its just a season. Keep going, your almost done! Your almost there! So do not lose heart.

Easy Christianity

It is truly wild how seemingly easy we have made Christianity in the West. We have crafted this version of Christianity (which is really no Christianity at all) that requires so little effort. You don’t have to get your knees scraped or your hands dirty; you barely need to break a sweat. You almost don’t even need the power of the Holy Spirit. You just accept Jesus into your heart, then proceed to do your private devotions each day, sit in a church once a week like you’re at the movie theatre, try not to curse in public and maybe send some money out to a few different charities. I mean there is probably a little more to it then that in most people’s minds, but at the same time, maybe not.

I remember N.T. Wright wrote in a commentary on Mark some years ago, “Jesus is not leading us on a pleasant afternoon hike, but on a walk into danger and risk. Or did we suppose that the Kingdom of God would mean merely a few minor adjustments in our ordinary lives?” I think that is exactly what many of us think Jesus is leading us on these days, a pleasant afternoon hike that means little more than a few minor adjustments to our otherwise ordinary lives. Again, I say it is wild because just like N.T. Wright is highlighting, nothing could be more contrary to what Jesus is actually calling His disciples to then that.

Take one verse. It is a short and simple verse and its one that caught my attention this morning and reminded me once again how uncomfortable and dangerous the Christian life is and also how impossible it is without the Spirit’s power. It is 1 Corinthians 10.24. Paul is addressing the Corinthian Church on eating food in the marketplace, i.e., is food sacrificed to idols, and he sums up his instructions to them with this command: “No one should seek their own good, but the good of others.”

Did you hear that? Well maybe read it again to make sure you are picking up what Paul is putting down. Do not seek your own good, but the good of others. That is a crazy command! How is that even possible to do consistently? How do you do that without adjusting your whole life? Now just in case your knee jerk reaction is to say that that statement pertains only to the situation Paul is addressing in 1 Corinthians, take note of two other places that such a command comes up: Romans 15.1-2, “We who are strong have an obligation to bear with the failings of the weak, and not to please ourselves. Let each of us please his neighbour for his good, to build him up,” and Philippians 2.4, “Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.”

The interesting thing about all of these references is that they are all rooted in the person of Jesus. In every one of these references Paul gives the command, then points to Jesus as the example of one who truly walked out this command, and then he tells the crowd that he is writing to, “Now imitate Christ.” Well to be completely accurate, in 1 Corinthians specifically he follows up the command by saying, “Be imitators of me as I am of Christ,” but you get the point. This command comes from the example of the person of whom Christians are disciples of. In other words, there is no getting around it. The command to put others needs before our own is a universal command for disciples of Jesus everywhere. This is a slice of what it means to follow Him.

When I really think about it, I am not sure that I could find a more difficult ethic to walk out then this one. I mean come on, no one naturally seeks the good of their neighbour before the good of themselves, or at least not all the time. Its impossible. But I think that is kind of the point. As Jesus once told His disciples while speaking of another impossible part of the Christian life, “With man this is impossible, with God all things are possible” (Matthew 19.26).

If you have found some version of Christianity that doesn’t make you frequently think, “How can I even do that?!” then I would guess you have found something that is not Christianity at all. The reality found in the pages of Scripture is that Jesus is not calling us to an afternoon hike, but instead is calling us into danger and risk. He is calling us into an innumerable amount of uncomfortable adjustments to our otherwise ordinary lives. Jesus never calls His disciples into an easy Christianity, instead He calls them into the kind of lives that can only be lived through the power of his Holy Spirit; the kind of lives that make little of themselves and instead make much of the needs of others so that in turn they make much of Jesus Christ.