Worth it all

"When I survey the wondrous Cross, on which the Prince of Glory died, 
My richest gain I count but loss, and pour contempt on all my pride.
Forbid it Lord that I should boast, save in the death of Christ my God. 
All the vain things that charm me most, I sacrifice them to His blood." 

I have only read the first two and a half chapters of Radical by David Platt, and already it is challenging my view of what it means to really follow Jesus. I've started to wonder what harbored habits have to go, what little luxuries are not as innocent as they seem, in what small ways I have begun to flirt with materialism. I have said I am following a Man who was abandoned by friends, rejected by most, and condemned to die by the authorities. I have said I am standing with His followers, who, yes, conquered kingdoms, enforced justice, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the power of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, were made strong out of weakness, became mighty in war, and put foreign armies to flight, but who  were also tortured, suffered mocking and flogging, chains and imprisonment, were stoned, sawn in two, killed, and went about in skins of sheep and goats, destitute, afflicted, and mistreated. I didn't make up that list, it's in the Bible. That's the side I stand on, and yet I walk in ease and comfort, offending none. It seems a little unlikely. I have started to ponder what I am to do, not just think. I've started to think that maybe, this path I have chosen will be even harder than I originally imagined. 


These are high-risk thoughts to think -- the outcome could end life as I know it. I may have to wish the American Dream goodbye. After all, Jesus never told us it would be easy -- in fact, He told us it would be downright difficult. 


In order to even begin thinking about these things (much less beginning to come to any conclusions), one very foundational truth had to be in place. 


Jesus said it would be hard. He also said it would be worth it all. 


In Matthew 13, in both the parable of the hidden treasure and the parable of the pearl of great value, Jesus says that the man and the merchant sold all they had. The call of Christ, it would seem, invariably involves sacrifice. But they sell everything for a treasure, for a pearl of great price. They didn't give up what they had because they had to. They gave up all they had because they had found something infinitely better, and they wanted it. 


David Platt describes the parable of the hidden treasure this way: 

"You know in the end you are not really giving away anything at all. Instead, you are gaining. Yes, you are abandoning everything you have, but you are also gaining more than you could have in any other way. So with joy -- with joy! -- you sell it all, you abandon it all. Why? Because you have found something worth losing everything for." 

This year has made me think about eternity more and more. The death of two young men I knew has cemented the reality of heaven into my mind indelibly. It's nearly impossible to have heaven on your mind for any length of time, and still really believe that the things of this world are of much consequence. The more I think about heaven, the less important the world seems. After all, I only have to be in one forever. 


It's kind of like going to a beach house. My family went and stayed in a friend's beach house for a week after I got back from college to have some family time. Don't get me wrong, it was a nice beach house. It was far from perfect, however. The beds there weren't as comfortable as my bed at home. The carpet wasn't my favorite color. It was smaller, and we all had to share rooms. So, of course, we remodeled the whole thing, bought new furniture, repainted the walls...


Of course not! That would be silly. After all, we're only staying there for a week. Better to use our money to make the house we live in all the time liveable. Isn't that the same as our lives on earth when you start thinking about heaven? You invest your money in the house you're going to spend the most time in -- we ought to invest our time, energy, and yes, money in the Kingdom we are going to spend the most time in also. 

"Or, in the words of Jesus, "Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." [Matthew 6:19-21]


Giving up earthly treasures for treasures in heaven is always worth it. 


But I don't think it's just heaven that makes it all worth it. Maybe, just maybe, it's worth it on earth too. 


I'm not advocating getting your perspective on life from Bon Jovi. However, in the song (the only song by him I listen to),  "Livin' on a Prayer," he describes Tommy and Gina's hard life. He continues to say  that they've got to hold on to what they've got, they've got each other, and that's a lot. There seems to be a sense that earthly poverty can be endured, so long as you are with someone you love. 


Okay, so that's enough mushy, feel-good talk. But look at the application. I don't know about you, but I think I would rather walk through a hard life with Jesus, who loves me more than any earthly person every could, beside me than walk through the American Dream alone. I would rather speak with my Redeemer every morning in a jail cell than be the subject of another lonely millionaire story. We are willing to say we would rather be with family and friends in a small house than alone in a mansion. Why is it such a far leap to say we would rather be with Jesus in a hut than alone in a castle? It's the love of Jesus that makes even the love of family and friends pale in comparison. 


Jesus is worth it all. 


I do not yet have the ability to say, unequivocally, that I want to give up every earthly possession and friendship that I have. I can say, however, that if that what it takes to have Jesus, then it's worth it. 


I have leaned for far too long on the the sweet, frail frames of this earth. Too many times I have forgone the sustenance of heaven for the tempting dainties this world offers. They have failed me too many times. Clinging to a blood-stained cross on a lonely hill, I found I am far richer than when ruling my castles of sand. 


I do not know what God will ask me to give up, turn away from, or sacrifice in the days, months, and years to come. I do not know what trials, persecutions, or valleys I will have to walk through. I do not know what others may think of me, or how they will treat me. But I know this. It will not be a burden or a sorrowful thing to sacrifice these things, anymore than it was a burden for the man to sell all his possessions to gain the treasure in the field.


If in the end, I have Jesus, then it is worth it all.