“Jesus
said to his disciples, ‘If anyone wants to follow in my footsteps he must give
up all right to himself, take up his cross and follow me. For the man who wants
to save his life will lose it; but the man who loses his life for my sake will
find it” (Matthew 16:24-25 PHILLIPS).
“When young we must not mind what the world calls failure;
as we grow old, we must not be vexed that we cannot remember, must not regret
that we cannot do, must not be miserable because we grow weak or ill: we must
not mind anything. We have to do with
God who can, not with ourselves where we cannot; we have to do with the Will,
with the Eternal Life of the Father of spirits, and not with the being which we
could not make, and which is his care. He
is our care; we are his; our care is to will his will; his care, to give us all
things. This is to deny
ourselves”—George MacDonald.
It is undeniable that self-denial is required of any and all
followers of Jesus Christ. It is also
undeniable that many either confuse the meaning of biblical self-denial or
understand it but refuse to obey its demands.
To the latter type of person I have nothing to say; to the former—the confused—let
me clarify. First of all, I take
MacDonald’s quote above as perhaps the best explanation of Biblical self-denial
I have ever heard (and at the ending of this writing I again quote MacDonald
quoting an inner dialogue with himself).
Self-denial is not self-flagellation nor a correction of any kind;
rather, it is a complete break away from self in any sense of following its
inclinations.
“If you have died with Christ to the elementary
principles of the world, why, as if you were living in the world, do you
submit yourself to decrees, such as, ‘Do not handle, do not taste, do
not touch!’ (which all refer to things destined to
perish with use)—in accordance with the commandments and teachings of
men? These are matters which have, to be
sure, the appearance of wisdom in self-made religion and self-abasement
and severe treatment of the body, but are of no value against
fleshly indulgence” (Colossians 2:20-23 NASB).
God is not a cruel taskmaster; the Egyptian world spirit was
broken at conversion for all His children.
God has forever crucified the old man and broken our bondage to flesh
and carnality, but we experience it only as we cooperate with His will on a
daily basis. The work of the cross of
Jesus Christ is the work of the circumcision of the heart once and forever, but
daily applied as a fact—not necessarily to the intellect or imagination—but
rather pleaded in the conscience and addressed to the will. That which merely appeals to the intellect
and imagination is unredemptive whereas that which appeals to the conscience
and will moves a man to action. We must apply
what God has done whether our intellect is brilliant or dull and whether our imagination
is colorful or black. The intellect and
imagination are more like dessert than supper; only after the main course of
conscience and will are satisfied, are intellect and imagination to be
indulged.
To merely think and imagine is a spectator sport, whereas to
see and/or hear God (the function of conscience) and obey what we see and/or
hear (the function of the will) is to participate on the playing field. Yes, those who participate might also
spectate as arm-chair warriors on occasion—perhaps when injured or exhausted
and replacements are available—but remember that David’s sin with Bathsheba
happened “in the spring, at the time when kings go out to battle” (1
Chronicles 20:1).
The daily taking up
of our crosses and following the Lord Jesus is often relentless, gruesome and
tiresome. Only when He brings us to
still waters and fragrant lilies are we to pause and repose. Spring is no license to leisure however much
it is okay and even pleasant to smell the roses while we walk along the
way. Spring-cleaning requires work and
is as much about removal as about replacement; dirt, grime and unpleasant odors
exchanged for cleanliness, spotlessness and a pleasant bouquet of freshness. In spiritual terms, however, spring-cleaning
is not about spring; in season and out of season we must be cleansed,
revitalized and refreshed. Only daily
application maintains the spring in both our house and step.
Nonetheless, and
notwithstanding our responsibilities, it is not for us to clean house except in
cooperation to His lead. Independent
house cleaning might leave the house “unoccupied, swept, and put in order” (see
Matthew 12:43-45), but it also opens the house to seven times the demonic
possession. If it is time to battle we
must battle; if it is time to rest, we must rest. Bathsheba might have been David’s destiny if
properly widowed and met in divine order.
Uriah, Bathsheba’s husband before David killed him and took his wife to
himself, might have died in battle despite David’s treachery. Once David put himself outside the will of
God, however, his eyes saw her unwrapped and desired her. Abusing the power of his position as king, he
set in motion an evil scheme to steal Bathsheba away from her husband. Being outside the will of God is itself the
issue. Only self-denial accomplishes the
will of God. True peace is only enjoyed
in the house of one will. Independence
is self-will, unbridled and rebellion; self-denial not self-pact is required
however right it seems to the human eye.
I end on the
inspiration of this writing of mine—the sublime words of George MacDonald’s dialogue
with his Self:
“Self, I
have not to consult you, but him whose idea is the soul of you, and of which as
yet you are all unworthy. I have to do,
not with you, but with the source of you, by whom it is that any moment you
exist—the Causing of you, not the caused you.
You may be my consciousness, but you are not my being. If you were, what a poor, miserable, dingy,
weak wretch I should be!—but my life is hid with Christ in God, whence it came,
and wither it is returning with you certainly, but as an obedient servant, not
a master. Submit, or I will cast you
from me, and pray to have another consciousness given me. For God is more to me than my consciousness
of myself. He is my life; you are only
so much of it as my poor half-made being can grasp—as much of it as I can now
know at once. Because I have fooled and
spoiled you, treated you as if you were indeed my own self, you have dwindled
yourself and have lessened me, till I am ashamed of myself. If I were to mind what you say, I should soon
be sick of you; even now I am ever and anon disgusted with your paltry, mean
face, which I meet at every turn.
No!—let me have the company of the Perfect One, not of you!—of my elder
brother, the Living One! I will not make
a friend of the mere shadow of my own being!
Good-bye, Self! I deny you, and
will do my best every day to leave you behind me.”
