I overheard a conversation at a coffeeshop. A girl was talking to a guy--I don't know their relationship. I did know the girl to some degree, enough to know that she didn't claim to be a Christian.
Girl: I woke up this morning and wanted to kill myself. Well, or, at least, I wanted to die.
Guy: So why didn't you kill yourself?
Girl: You know, the only reason I didn't is that the only thing I wanted more than to die was to know why I wanted to die."
God, that made me sad. I've been at the point any many of you, I imagine, know how utterly awful it is to be at such a place. But even as I felt sad for her, I admired her. For her integrity. I wish I were that serious about wanting to know why I feel and think the things I do as someone who calls himself a Christian. I can't imagine how much more seriously the world would take Christianity if the Church were two degrees closer to that kind of integrity.
We should think more about architects and monarchs:
Luke 14:28-30: "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.’"
So there's tower-builder Bob, who began building a tower, couldn’t finish it, and people laughed. Frankly, when I read that, I don’t initially get the joke, because I’ve got about ten books going and numerous failed relationships and a half-drunk Coke in the refrigerator. I think that 2000 years of distance has softened the blow of the story a bit.
One reason I don’t get it is that, well, I don’t build towers very much--anyone out there who does? Literally, this guy built a tower, which meant that he was making his life and behavior open to observation. In contrast, most of us live in places with so many people and so many churches that we can lose ourselves in the masses, keep ourselves from being known; if we think that the people at our churches are getting too close for comfort, we can always go to another one.
Moreover, tower-builder Bob was opening himself to public shame. We don’t really have that, either. Just inhale a dose of reality TV for a week. It's possible, even, that in our culture, public shame has become a badge of honor. Johnny Knoxville, anyone? Who wants to bare all with Barbara Walters?
Regardless of the differences, Jesus puts the same question to us as he did to his original audience: He asks, “Can you afford to follow me?” Clearly, tower-builder Bob couldn’t afford to finish what he had started, because he didn’t properly assess the cost involved in what he undertook. So Jesus says to us, “Yes, it’s good to take seriously your choice of colleges, your choice of a spouse, your choice of hamburger or chicken, but you should be ashamed of yourself if you take any of these more seriously than you take your faith. I’d rather you didn’t call yourself a Christian than expose my name to public shame.” This is why we’re called to give an account of ourselves, to know why we believe what we believe. Notice, Jesus never says that tower-builder Bob should have had everything figured out before building. You don’t have to have all the answers before you can be a Christian. What Jesus does say about tower-builder Bob is that he should have sat down beforehand and assessed the cost and whether he had the resources available. Notice the wording: “sit down” and assess the cost. That implies a conscious decision to take the time and space necessary to consider following Christ before making an impulse purchase. Take the time to consider his claims and see if they’re consistent. Take the time to see if the Bible is trustworthy.
I think we suffer from so much nominal, shameful Christianity because we’re not willing to give people the time to consider the cost of becoming a Christian. We’re not willing to tell people how hard and difficult it can be. We think that we need to just get them on the roster and they’ll get the picture soon enough. For some reason, we think that careful reasoning, careful thought, close scrutiny, testing and reasoning, is somehow insulting to true faith. In fact, just the opposite is the case. Christ says, “You take your faith as seriously as you take the claims I make. This is no light business. I’d rather you not be a Christian and understand why than claim to be a Christian because your parents or friends are Christians, or because it makes you feel good or accepted.”
“So,” Jesus asks, “can you afford to follow me?”
Then he moves on to the next part of the story, where he asks, “Can you afford not to follow me?”
Luke 14:31-32: "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."
Whereas tower-builder Bob was responsible only for himself, how he appeared to others, King Bob is responsible for his people, for the lives of his people. War is imminent, and he doesn’t have the resources necessary to deal with the situation. It would be absolutely irresponsible not to act in a realistic fashion here, not to ask for peace before it hits.
Tower-builder Bob’s situation was bad enough, but at least he had resources at his disposal. In case any of us thought he were like tower-builder Bob, and maybe just needed to do a better job of assessing the situation next time, Jesus says wait a second, you’re also like king-Bob. Whether you like it or not, THE King is coming, and you do not have the resources you need to deal with the situation.
Clearly, it’s just like grocery shopping: Your chocolate milk and sushi have been rung. You pull out the plastic. "Debit or credit?" she asks. "Credit, thanks." You feel a bit guilty for using the credit card. You swipe. You wait. "Good grief, how long can it take--" it's getting awkward, the silence. You avoid the cashier's eyes at all costs, as if you've done something shameful. You see the display before she does and remember that you're over your limit: this card is no good. You have two options: 1. You can let it happen and get called on your bad credit and all the people will laugh at you as you cower in shame or 2. You can quickly search your wallet for a backup card.
And Jesus, the cashier, says, “Listen, the cost is too high. Whatever you may think, and I hope you have thought through this, ultimately, you do not have the resources necessary; you don’t have adequate credit. But you’ll still be required to pay; the King is coming whether you like it or not, and if you’re wise, you’ll realize you can’t afford not to follow me; I’m the only adequate resource. I’ve got the resources; in fact, I am the Resource, and if you’re serious about this, you can have me.” The King is coming, and those who wish to live will sue for peace while He is yet far off. If you have not taken seriously the cost of this situation, you will not see the need for this. But I urge you, take it seriously. Do you really understand what you are getting yourself into? My terms are precise. You will not get my protection if you don’t know my demands, if you don’t know how serious they are. I hope you’ve taken the time to sit down and consider my claims—maybe I’m a deranged lunatic or a megalomaniac; maybe I think the world revolves around me. Maybe not. But is it not a serious enough claim that you’d better make a choice one way or the other, and have good reasons?”
I don’t write to try and make anyone doubt his faith. I hope I haven’t said that if you’ve never dealt with the difficult issues of Christianity that you aren’t a real Christian. In the blogosphere, though, I know there are a number of people who have never taken their faith seriously, and with the Scriptures’ warrant, I am saying only that it’s more serious than you think. Christianity is a joyous, beautiful, lovely thing, but only so because of the seriousness of the situation that we find ourselves in. Only because I believe that there’s a King coming, and if that’s true, we need to know what kind of person he is, what he demands, and what he offers as the solution. And he’s giving us time to do it, that’s all.
For me, this piece is very timely and powerful encouragement.
Thanks for writing all of it down.
kammer, you're welcome. thank you for encouraging me in return.
Posted by: jeremy at November 17, 2004 11:06 AMand also for me, both on a spiritual/faith walk level and a physical one. because, right now, i'm considering selling my house to pay off all debt, then return to school full time, for real. and for a degree that, i hope, will better prepare me to help youth with their walk.
(last week, most of the morning sermons i heard while driving to work were on these very scriptures...)
thanks jeremy - i'll go think awhile.
Posted by: steph at November 17, 2004 11:48 AMYes. Yes.
Do you remember Dr. Doriani talking about "Dare to Be Boring" at seminary. He was saying that we don't always have to be original all the time, inventing new things and going to yet undiscovered texts. There's always someone who hasn't heard yet, or needs to hear again, the simple message of the gospel. I was telling a friend this, and he was interpreting what I was saying as, Have an altar call every Sunday.
I've been thinking about how the gospel is presented in the Scriptures as a narrative, not as four points. It's not given to us as a booklet, a tract. Those may be used by God, for sure, but when we boil it down to four main points, don't we lose something else that we didn't intend to lose?
I don't remember that, but I do remember how revolutionized I was after spending time with Jerram and realizing that if I sit down with someone who doesn't believe the things I do, my first privilege is to find out what is true, good, beautiful about them and talking about those things; and I could leave that conversation having talked about, say, architecture, and if I spoke truthfully about that thing, I had been faithful to preach the gospel without one mention of the name Jesus. So freeing. So humane.
Posted by: jeremy at November 17, 2004 10:07 PModdly enough, that text was what i read last night as i was reading through luke. i was like, "oh, i don't have to think too hard about this one--jeremy's already done it for me."
just kidding, mostly.
Posted by: emily jane at November 18, 2004 07:30 AMHey man,
Great piece. If people knew how many times I had considered ending it all they would think me crazy. But no, I am just a coward and have too many people who love me to be seriouse. I have a strong desire to end this life of pain and be with God but don't believe taking my own life is the way to go. Also, I am not sure I am up to the cost of being a Christian. It means forgoing all things for Christ and for a man with not much materially but very blessed familially and friend wise this is a tough cost. The cost is high and as I tell me self all of the time, "if I really believed what I believe I would be more joyful"
Look forwar to seeing you in Memphis.
Posted by: mike at November 18, 2004 09:01 AMsorry. Very piecemeal. You may get the full version in Memphis.
Posted by: mike at November 18, 2004 09:06 AMthank you, mike. yeah--me, you, the z-mart, maybe some barbecue soon. and, surely, the boy showing me every single toy he owns, three times each.
Posted by: jeremy at November 18, 2004 09:52 AMtimely, truthful, smacked nail on head.
Posted by: sligh at November 20, 2004 12:07 PMthanks, sligh. "smacked" is even better than "hit."
Posted by: jeremy at November 21, 2004 06:11 PMI've read your blog before, and never posted a comment. But I need to thank you for this one--it helped.
Posted by: Jenn at November 23, 2004 08:53 PMjenny, i'm glad to hear it, and you're welcome. hope all's well in the Lou. maybe i'll see you over the christmas break.
Posted by: jeremy at November 23, 2004 10:36 PMHere's some honesty. I've been struggling with this. Seems to me that I've never been able to count the cost because the threat is so severe. Do this or burn in never-ending torture, and oh yeah, by the way, you better count the cost.
Posted by: Taylor at September 11, 2007 10:06 PMTaylor, thank you for your comment. What can I say in response that won't sound trite, especially to someone who knows, theologically, the answers, and to someone whom I don't really know apart from a few years of seminary collegiality?
I do notice your wording: "I've never been able to count the cost because the threat is so severe." Do you really mean you've never "been able" to? If so, what has prohibited you? Is it really fear of consequences, because it seems to me that the consequences, if anything, would do the opposite, scare you INTO counting the cost. Does God generally motivate by fear? I don't think so, based on my limited understanding. But that doesn't mean there's not a place for it, I suppose.
Perhaps, rather than counting the cost of following Christ, taking seriously the claims of Christ, some of us do well to take seriously that which keeps us from doing so, those things that make us hesitate to take Christ more seriously. In fact, I'd contend that that's the first task, and, in the end, part of counting the cost. What in my history, my temperament, my chemistry, might make me hesitate to take Christ seriously? That's where I am, I think, and I don't know that that will ever end, but I am confident that doing such self-analysis doesn't disqualify me from legitimately claiming adoption. I don't see where we can measure this in degrees; that is, how serious is serious enough? I don't know. Perhaps it's a never-ending process that's part of what it means to want to continually please God (not in the sense of earning his approval, but in the sense of wanting to take him increasingly seriously).
I apologize if any of this feels condescending or insulting. Do know how sincerely honored I am that you felt comfortable enough with that struggle to set it forth here. I'll be in Rochester for a week in October, so if you're anywhere near there, I'd love to sit down and catch up over food or drink or both.
Take care,
Jeremy
Thanks J, Word picture: Imagine you’re trapped in a forest of Alaska during a horrific blizzard. You’re dying of hypothermia. You’re vigorously working to make a fire so that you can stay alive and keep warm. You’re not thinking about how difficult it’s going to be to get the fire crackling because all you can think about at that point is life and death.
Posted by: Taylor at September 13, 2007 12:50 PM