There is a song which is sung in many Christian churches which contains the line, “Have you counted the cost if your soul should be lost?” Most of the time it’s irrelevant because virtually everyone singing it has already been saved, but I suppose that sometimes someone might hear the words and respond positively. Regardless, we really should consider what eternal hell would cost us and take every step necessary to avoid it. At the same time, we should consider the cost if our soul should be saved. How many of us do that? How much does it cost to be a disciple of Jesus the Christ? What is the price of following God’s will in our lives?

Of course, we know that Jesus paid it all, that His atoning death erased any debt we owed to God as restitution for our sins. In that sense, we have nothing to pay. There is no charge to us on that account. Salvation, however, even though it may be free does not come without cost to us, because when we accept Jesus as our Savior, we acknowledge Him as our Lord as well. It is no good to say that Jesus is our Savior if we refuse to submit to Him as Lord and He demands a very heavy price from us: total, unconditional surrender and obedience to His will.

How many times has someone walked through church doors saying the right things, but later leaving because they were unwilling to submit some area of their life to the Lordship of Jesus? How many times in our own lives have we wrestled with this very issue? How many times has God spoken to us about something which He wanted to change, regardless what it was, and we resisted Him? Jesus says that, “…if anyone comes to me and does not hate…his own life, he cannot be a disciple of mine.” In other words, unless we are willing to give Jesus total, unconditional control of our lives, unless we are willing to become completely submitted to His will, we cannot be His disciple.

This is a hard saying. Many people would turn away (and have) from it, but these are not my words. Instead, they come from the lips of the only one who can demand that. The fact is that this complete submission to Jesus actually happened definitively at the moment of our salvation. From that point on, as we are willing, it becomes a progressive surrender of our will to His, until God’s will becomes more important to us than our own. Until God becomes #1 instead of #2 or #345. Until we can honestly say with Jesus, “…not my will, but yours…”

You might protest that you’re doing all the right things. You tithe, pray, read your Bible, go to church at least an hour a week, give money to poor people, etc. What more does God want anyway? If this is you, let me point you to the story of the rich young ruler who did all these things, yet was unwilling to give up the one part of his life which was blocking his entrance into the kingdom.  (Mark 10:17-27, Luke 18:18-23) In fact, Scripture tells us that there are people at the judgment who will say, “Lord, Lord, we did all these things”, yet He will answer them, “Get out! I don’t know you.” God wants our hearts. God wants us to have no idols. God wants us to give up those things which keep Him from taking His rightful place on the throne of our hearts. The price of discipleship, the cost of following Jesus is that we lose our lives, that we die to ourselves every minute of every day.

What are some of the things we have to give up? First and foremost, I believe, is that inner drive and determination to be independent. To be our own boss. To call the shots ourselves. This was Adam’s sin. Adam wanted to decide his own life and determine his own version of right and wrong.

God speaks to us from time to time about something we need to be free of. It could be pride, greed, lust for power, sex, money, or material things. It could be fear, hatred, bitterness, unforgiveness, or the desire for revenge. It could be a relationship which is dragging us down. It might be apathy, laziness, or hardness of heart toward spiritual matters. Whatever it is (and I have only scratched the surface), if God says, “This is cluttering up your life, get rid of it!”, respond in a positive manner. Just do it! We must come, by God’s grace, from a point of total rebellion to total submission.

Why are we so unwilling to give Jesus the lordship of our lives? I believe it boils right down to one thing: we don’t trust Him. We don’t trust Him to supply all our needs, to protect us, to watch over us. Because of this, we grasp and clutch all these other things hoping that they will fill that area in our lives which only God can fill. We just simply don’t trust Him. Yet, God has a way of working His will and orchestrating circumstances which bring us to the point where we have nothing else to trust in, where we realize we can’t make it on our own, where we willingly allow Him to become King and Lord.

When Jesus saw that some of His disciples were deserting him, he asked the Twelve if they wanted to go as well. We would do well to remember Peter’s answer, “Lord, where are we going to go? You have the words of eternal life.” Indeed. Where else are we going to go? In fact, as the world system increasingly breaks down and becomes more and more chaotic, this question becomes more and more prominent.

Jesus has the words of life. There is nowhere else to go.

I had a revelation yesterday. Bear with me.

I had just started a new job at a company which builds log and timber frame buildings. My job is to stand on large timbers which have been sawed and use an adze to make them appear hand-carved. I stand all day long bent over, swinging the adze like a pick. Needless to say, it’s hard on the back and hands, but I’m getting used to it and feel pretty good.  It’s all piece rate, so the more I complete, the larger my paycheck.

There are two young men who started the same time I did. Being young, they haven’t learned yet that the only way to get anything done is to get into it. They like to talk, look at their blisters, complain about their aching hands, etc. Good fellows, but they’re probably working for a lot less than minimum wage.

Yesterday, I stopped for a minute and watched them. I thought about going over to tell them that they needed to work through their pain until they could ignore it. Immediately the thought came to me about Caleb, who was as strong when he was 80 as he was when he was 40, and I understood that one of the reasons for this was that Caleb had learned to work through his pain. After a few minutes, I realized that my back and hands no longer hurt and I worked pain-free for the rest of the day.

I have spent a lot of time thinking about this and can apply it to an emotional or spiritual sense as well. People have to learn to work through their emotional pain, their spiritual pain in order to be set free from it. It’s hard, oh yes, it’s hard, and many people shrink from it because it hurts so much, but to become like Jesus, it is absolutely necessary. I have learned something and will never let go of it. It has already transformed the way I think. I will never be the same again.

(Ed. note.)  Approximately one year later. I am working as crew boss on a large custom house construction. It has been hot, hot, hot, and everyone on the job is glad when the end of the day arrives. I am the oldest man on the job, but I can easily keep up with the younger men and sometimes surpass them when durability is counted. Why? It might be that I have learned to be tough, to hang in there when the going is hard, and to work through the difficult times. Sometimes mental toughness far outweighs physical capability.

Imagine that you are in a prison. A dark, dirty, dank prison. A dark, dirty, dank, rat-infested, cold to the bone prison. And, as if that’s not bad enough, you have chains bound to your wrists, which are securely fastened to the wrists of the two soldiers who are beside you as you sleep. There are other soldiers (fourteen more, to be exact), well-trained and alert, who stand between you and any hope of escape. Additionally, there are the doors of the prison, huge, strong, made of iron, impregnable. You couldn’t get out unless you had an acetylene torch and a bazooka, neither of which is in your possession at the moment. To make matters worse, you know that the king, who had you arrested, has already executed one of your best friends and, since this action pleased your enemies, he plans to do you in as well. In fact, you are sleeping for the last time because he is going to cut off your head in the morning. After the trial, of course, which will be open and just, with the best lawyers possible arguing your defense. You will get a fair hearing in front of a jury of your peers, who will be able to see the truth about your case.

Yeah, right. Pigs fly, too. You’re dead and you know it. Requiescat in pace.

Acts, chapter 12. Peter. One of the most loved disciples of Christ. Always getting himself into trouble through his impulsive, impetuous actions. Never stopping to think about what he did or said, especially since that day when he was filled to overflowing with the Holy Spirit. After that there was nothing to live for and talk about except his Lord Jesus, regardless of where he was or who was listening, which landed him exactly where the powers that be wanted him. As good as dead!

There he was in his chains, stretched out between two Roman soldiers, sleeping. (How could anyone sleep in a situation like that?) Regardless, Peter was sound asleep. Then,  suddenly someone was smacking him in the ribs, shining a flashlight into his eyes, and shouting, “Get up. Get up!” Talk about rude awakenings.

We know the rest of the story. How the chains fell off his wrists when he got to his feet. How the doors opened (and closed) automatically. How the guards never saw or were aware of what was happening. How the angel led Peter, still dreaming, down the street a full block before disappearing. How Peter finally woke up and realized he had been set free by the hand of the God who rules kings. We know that he went to the house of his friends who were together, praying for him while all this was happening. We know that after he convinced them that he really was who said he was, they proceeded to tell everybody about it while Peter took off for a safe house. And we know that the soldiers, who were only doing their duty and couldn’t have prevented his escape if they had known about it, took Peter’s place on the guillotine.

I have some questions.

What if Peter, on feeling the angels fist, on seeing the cell light up like a lightning bolt, on hearing the words, “Get up! Now!!”, had simply refused. What if he had convinced himself that it was only a bad dream? What if he really didn’t care whether or not Herod chopped off his head? What if he had set his face to “do it my way or no way”, in spite of knowing what was going to happen to him and that he was being offered an avenue of escape from it? What if? What if??

I know what would have happened. In the morning, the guards would have jerked him to his feet, dragged him off (without breakfast, mind you) to see King Herod, who would have found him guilty for any reason or for none, ordered him executed without delay, and that would have been the end of Peter. If there was an obituary column in the local news scroll, his name would have been listed the next day. He might have even merited a mention in the police report.

We are all, to some extent or another, in a prison of our own. We are guarded by sentries far more alert than any Roman soldier ever was. We are bound down by chains and weight far heavier than the iron which held Peter. For us, in our own strength, by ourselves, there is no hope. We are doomed! And yet, and yet…in our misery and despair, someone keeps jolting us awake. We see a light and we hear someone speak to us, “It is time to get up. You can be set free!”

Jesus came to set us free. He said, “You shall know the truth and the truth shall set you free.” He also said, “I am…the Truth…” We know that He sets captives free and prisoners at liberty. But, knowing all this, why do we have so much trouble when He comes to our own personal prison cell and expresses His desire to set us free? Why, indeed, when the obvious answer to our dilemma is to stand on our feet at His command, in His light and presence, only to feel and see those fetters fall impotent to the floor at our feet?

I know the answer. There is only one conclusion to the question–we don’t want to. No more excuses. Let’s get right down to brass tacks, bare knuckles, and the bald-faced truth of the matter. We simply don’t want to. We prefer to lie in our chains, squalor, and misery, rather than be set free by the command of the King. Better to die in bondage than to acknowledge that He, and He alone, is able to free us from our dungeon. Pride. Stupid, foolish, arrogant pride. We are too proud to admit that we can’t do it ourselves and we aren’t willing to allow anyone else to do it for us. Admit that I am incapable of saving myself? Better to die first!

This is exactly what happens. This is exactly the way I am.