The Cost of Discipleship

Year B: Second Sunday of Lent

The forty days of Lent bring into focus a long biblical tradition beginning with the Flood in the Book of Genesis, when rain fell upon the earth for forty days and forty nights. We read about Elijah walking forty days and forty nights to the mountain of God, Mt. Horeb. We read about the forty years that the Israelites wandered through the desert in order to reach the Promised Land. The biblical desert is primarily a place of purification, a place of passage. The biblical desert is not so much a geographical location—a place of sand, stones or sagebrush—as a process of interior purification leading to the complete liberation from the false-self system with its programs for happiness that cannot possibly work.¹ —Thomas Keating

The Transfiguration of Jesus is the crown of Epiphany. The miracles, deeds, and conversations Jesus had in the opening chapters of Mark told us a lot about who he is, but it is the Transfiguration which shows us that Jesus was more than just a prophet from God—he was totally united with God, but the story of the Transfiguration shocks the senses of conventional wisdom when Jesus gives his disciples a strange command…

Year B, First Sunday of Lent, February 18th, 2024

First Reading: Genesis 17:1-7, 15-16

Psalm: Psalm 22:22-30

Second Reading: Romans 4:13-25

Gospel: Mark 8:31-38

Sermon - The Cost of Discipleship

He called the crowd with his disciples and said to them, “If any wish to come after me, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels.” Mark 8:34–38

How do we deny ourselves? That might look different for each of us. You have different struggles, different idols, and a different upbringing that I do. Denying ourselves may look like walking away from a relationship or job that keeps us from coming after Jesus. Or perhaps denying ourselves means living within those relationships, churches, or jobs in a new way.

That is, if we wish to follow Jesus, self-denial might look like walking away from a particular set of circumstances, but it might also mean walking within them in a cross-centered way.

For example, consider the local congregation you may attend or one you may have attended. Undoubtedly, you disagree with the leadership or, if you are a leader, other leaders in one way or another. You may have disagreements about some doctrinal point, leadership style, or worship preference. Or it may be something simple like personality differences.

The body of Christ is so diverse that finding such a difference shouldn’t be too hard.

How, then, do you react to situations where these differences might produce some sort of conflict?

Typically, there are two responses: fight or flight. When we are self-centered, like most humans and most living beings are and almost have to be for survival, we either abandon ship as quickly as possible (or self-sabotage so that it doesn’t look like we’re giving up) or we fight back.

In my case, the difference between myself and my family was doctrinally. I held to a different view of the end times than they did. I interpreted Revelation differently than they did. From my self-centered perspective, I was in fight mode. I was conditioned to stand on my convictions. I was told to stand by truth no matter what. And so I did.

This led to my eventual excommunication from that congregation which my family attended and any church associated with them. I was cheered on as a defender of the faith, as a martyr.

And while I wouldn't expect a twenty-two year old minister at his second church to handle the situation differently, I see now that much of my problem was this kind of self-centeredness that both I and my family had. This kind of self-centeredness is particularly because it masquerades as standing for truth.

This kind of attitude splits churches, breaks up families, and crushes spirits.

What, then, are we to do? If our two choices are either fight or flight, then how can we live at peace with others and bear the image of God to the world?

That’s where Jesus’s third way comes in (nod to Walter Wink). The third way of Jesus is to take up the cross, deny ourselves, and follow him. We have to lose our lives. We have to forfeit the world.

This means evaluating what really is important.

Now, I think eschatology is an important subject, even vital for peace, love, and mercy to abound in our world. But I think that the way we talk about it and other topics is far more important.

The fruit of the Spirit is love, and what follows are the qualities of love: “joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control” (Galatians 5:22–23).

Was the way I reacted to the conflict brought about differences between my family and I characterized by joy or pride. or something else? Did I exhibit an attitude of peace? Did they? What about patience and generosity? Did I show that the knowledge which I happened into over the course of eight months of intense study shouldn't be expected of someone else after just a few conversations? Was I more faithful to faith and hope than I was to love—which is far greater? Was I (or were they) gentle? Did I exhibit self-control?

This is what it looks like to deny ourselves and consent to the Spirit who works through us.

I’ve never seen the dead raised. I’ve never seen the blind healed. I’ve never heard someone speak in tongues (at least in a way that convinced me that that’s what they were doing). But I have seen the Spirit of God produce this kind of fruit in my life more and more.

But I’ve had to crucify a lot with Christ.

That’s not to say that I’m prefect—far from it.

But it is to say that I’ve found a lot of joy working with fellow Christians with whom I disagree on eschatology or something else because that’s not what makes us brothers and sisters. I like to watch them grow. I like to watch them serve. I like being with them. And while eschatology comes up now and again, it isn’t what defines our relationship.

What is it that makes you different from those in leadership at the local church you thought of or are currently in? Are those differences irreconcilable, or is there roadblock to unity something within yourself? Is there something within you that you need to deny, crucify with Christ, and then you could find that peace with them and within yourself?

Living with this tension, following this third way, is what we are called to do. We may hear sermons we don’t like. We may have to endure a cringey Bible class or two. But if can live transformed lives among our brothers and sisters by denying ourselves and following Jesus, working from the inside edge of the outside, then we can have a much more positive impact on our world than if we give in to the fight or flight response.

Thanks for reading!

Now, I will say that there may be situations where it is best for you and your family to find somewhere else to attend or maybe not attend anywhere at all for a time, choosing instead to worship at home, but I think that finding a community of believers is healthy and needed in the Christian life, but don’t sacrifice your families’ mental or spiritual well-being over it.

Second Reading: Romans 4:13-25 - Living By Faith

In our Sunday service, we will be singing a song called “Living By Faith.” I know many of us have sung this song countless times in our lives. The most recent time I sang this song was with the youth group at our Winterfest retreat. One of the speakers led this song, and many others, to show the connection between the songs we sing and the scriptures we read.

When I think of this song, my mind goes to Romans 4. Paul wrote concerning Abraham, “For the promise that he would inherit the world did not come to Abraham or to his descendants through the law but through the righteousness of faith. For if it is the adherents of the law who are to be the heirs, faith is null and the promise is void” (Romans 4:13–14).

God promised Abraham that his descendant would be richly blessed, but the community of believers in Rome had a question: would this blessing come through righteous acts of the Law or through faith in Christ? For Paul, the solution was simple: if a gift from God came from following a set of instructions, then it would no longer be a gift. Gifts are freely given; wages are earned.

As Christians, we ought to understand that we live by faith. While we do want to practice righteousness, this righteousness should flow from the righteousness that is counted to us on the basis of our faith, not as a means to earn salvation. When we put our faith in Christ, Paul goes on to say, our faith is counted to us as righteousness because Jesus died for our transgressions and was raised for our justification (Romans 4:24-25).

Thanks so much for keeping up with this blog. If you have any suggestions, recommendations, or critiques, you can always comment here or reach out through my website: https://danielr.net.

1. Keating, Thomas. The Mystery of Christ: The Liturgy as Spiritual Experience. New York: Continuum, 2008. Print.