4.07 - COST OF DISCIPLESHIP

COST OF DISCIPLESHIP

I am reading tonight from the latter part of Luke 9:1-62. I bid you watch closely the reading, because the talk will be based upon this paragraph. "It came to pass, when the time was come that he should be received up, he stedfastly set his face to go to Jerusalem, and sent messengers before his face; and they went, and entered into a village of the Samaritans, to make ready for him. And they did not receive him, because his face was as though he would go to Jerusalem. And when his disciples James and John saw this, they said, Lord, wilt thou that we call down fire from heaven, and consume them, as Elias did? And he turned, and rebuked them, and said unto them, Ye know not what manner of Spirit ye are of. For the Son of man is not come to destroy men’s lives, but to save them. And they went to another village. And it came to pass as they went in the way, a certain man said unto him, Lord, I will follow thee whithersoever thou goest. And Jesus said unto him, Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head. And he said to another, Follow me. But he said, Lord, suffer me first to go and bury my father. Jesus said unto him, Let the dead bury their dead; but go thou and preach the kingdom of God. And another also said, Lord, I will follow thee; but let me first go bid them farewell, which are at my home and at my house. And Jesus said unto him, No man, having put his hand to the plough, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God." My friends, that’s an account of the last journey that Jesus ever made to Jerusalem. It was fraught with sadness on his part, and, of course, to all the disciples, who understood what it meant. From the beginning there were those who sought to obstruct his path; to divert his steps, and to turn him from his purpose. In the study of the life of Christ, that very element of hindrance was prominent from first to last. While standing on the banks of the river Jordan, yet dripping from the baptismal act, ready to launch his campaign of publicity, there was the devil seeking to destroy his purpose and to turn him aside. His own brethren, misunderstanding his mission, sought to upset his plans and to carry their will into effect. You know that all the Jews expected Christ to come to this earth and establish an earthly kingdom. Their hearts were set upon that. Such a thing as a spiritual realm, over which he should reign at God’s right hand, had not dawned upon them. Their idea was physical, temporal, earthly in nature. And one time, when he was not carrying out their ideas and making headway toward their purpose, they had in mind to take him by force and set him on a throne; but he escaped from their presence. Isn’t it strange, brethren, in the light of the mistake that the Jews made and the idea they had respecting the nature of Christ’s kingdom, that there are brethren running loose all around, that have not profited by that, and are following in the same mistaken steps of the Jews? For what are they contending and preaching to the hurt of the body of Christ? That Jesus must have an earthly kingdom. They know the fact that Christ said, "My kingdom is not of this world," but such passages amount to nothing. Their theory must prevail. That very hindrance to the purpose of Christ in carrying out that for which he came to this earth, has ever been characteristic of those who have marred the progress and obstructed the onward march of the cause of our Lord upon the earth. Here near the close of his earthly career he started, and stedfastly set his face to go to Jerusalem. And he sent messages on before him to make ready, and those messengers entered into a village of the Samaritans, but the Samaritans rejected them. That brings up another sad story. The woman at the well, John the fourth chapter, very truly said, "the Jews and the Samaritans have no dealings one with the other." Trace back for just a moment in your knowledge of the Bible, and review the origin of the Samaritans. You’ll find that the ten tribes which went off into error after Jeroboam got so broad-gauged and liberal that the Assyrians took them in. They then repopulated Jerusalem with foreigners, who mixed and mingled with the remnant left behind, and from that mingling, there came forth a posterity embittered toward the Jews, and the hatred was quite mutual. That’s the foundation of the Samaritans. The Jews who were faithful to God had no use for them, and why? Once, all marched together under Saul, David, and Solomon, then the ten tribes began to worship like the nations around them. They copied from the denominations and the varied religions of the land, until so corrupted, that they were absorbed and absolutely lost in identity. With such the Jews had no contact, no relation whatsoever. Hence, the Samaritans rejected the coming of the Christ through their territory. And be it remembered, that in going from Galilee to Judea, or Jerusalem, one must needs pass through Samaria. Now I think you can appreciate the feelings that Christ, or rather the disciples, James and John, must have had, if you can imagine an experience of that kind. In traveling south from Nashville, to Columbia, for instance, you’d have to pass ordinarily through Williamson County. Suppose some were to meet you at the border and forbid your passing. You’d, doubtless, argue the question with them. You might say: "I am not seeking to harm your country, nor to do any damage; I just want to pass through." But their forbidding you to do it would bring forth all the animosity within your soul. When refused, James and John rose up and they said, "Lord, wilt thou that we command fire to come down from heaven and consume them.’’ I can just imagine how James and John felt about it. The idea of you people forbidding our passing, quietly and harmlessly, through your lands, shows hatred of the bitterest sort. Now they felt like just mopping up with them, but then Christ reproved them severely, and said, "James and John, you know not what manner of Spirit you are of." "Is it possible that you’ve been students of mine for these months and years, and yet have not caught the right Spirit, and the proper relation toward your fellows? And now disciples, get it: the Son of man is not come to destroy men’s lives; that’s not my purpose, and away with your idea. Although they have insulted you, they are human, endued with all the frailties and imperfections and weaknesses that characterize mankind. Let’s not destroy them; that’s not my mission. I have come to save them, rather than destroy them." Now, you brethren and friends present have no more of the human about you than I have. Sometimes when people seek to do us injury of any kind, our first impulse is not to turn the other cheek. Well, that’s not the Spirit that ought to prevail, and it is much more an act of cowardice than of real courage. Christ said, "James and John, we’ll not call down fire from heaven; we’ll not destroy the Samaritans; let’s save them." Now that’s the Spirit of Christianity. "Pray for them that curse you and despitefully use you, and be longsuffering, forbearing one another in love." That’s the spirit. And as we grow older, and imbibe more and more of the teaching of the Lord, the less disposed we’ll come to be to want to take it out and say, "Lord, I know you said that vengeance is yours, but I am just scared you won’t do a good job. Step down off the throne and let me ’tend to this fellow. I just want to clean up with him." Jesus said, "I am not come to destroy men’s lives, but come to save them." That’s the first part of this paragraph, and then the next. "And it came to pass as they went in the way, a certain man said unto him, Lord, I will follow thee whithersoever thou goest." I am sorry I do not know who that man was. When the Bible says "a certain man," I have found that the most uncertain person in all of my study. Who was he? A certain man. Was he a Democrat? I do not know. But that’s the statement of the Bible. "A certain man said unto him, Lord, I’ll follow thee whithersoever thou guest." Well, of course, he covered lots of territory, and possibly much more than he was conscious of. Many times, friends, we get worked up from different causes and make statements that, at the time, we think we mean, but when boiled down, that’s not exactly the thought of it. I often wonder if humanity has ever yet learned itself. I remember how the Lord said to his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things of the elders and chief priests, the scribes, and be killed. Peter was surprised and shocked at such a statement, and he said, "Lord, be it far from thee." Later Jesus said: "All ye shall be offended because of me. And Peter said, "Though all men should be offended because of thee, yet will I never be offended. Now can you just see that cock-sureness, and that self-confidence? Peter was perfectly honest and absolutely sincere; he had left his fishing tackle by the sea of Galilee; had left his home, and even his mother-in-law, and had gone to follow the Christ, so he said, "Others may forsake you, Lord, but I never will even if I should die with thee." Well, I am not here to rebuke Peter; I think he was just as honest then as ever after. Christ said, "Peter, this very night the cock will not crow twice, but thou shalt deny me three times." Well, Peter thought Christ had just missed it as far as it was possible for a statement to be. He felt so sure of himself, but when he got up against that which he had never experienced before and the Idol of his heart was in the custody of the enemy, he was following afar off. When the trial was on, a damsel came to Peter and said: "You were with Jesus." Peter practically said: "I don’t even known whom you are talking about." Well, that passed, and another maid said: "This fellow was with Jesus." Finally, others said: "Thou art one of them: for thy speech betrayeth thee." Then Peter began to curse and to swear, "I don’t even know the man." Now, friends, from that I have learned this: I ought to be exceeding careful about making such general, broad-gauged, statements as to what I’ll do. In our chapter we have a man who said, "Lord, I’ll follow thee whithersoever thou goest." Peter was mistaken in himself. He didn’t understand what he’d do when he got up against a new experience in life. And when somebody makes a mistake, I know how easy it is for us to land on him with both feet and to condemn him most severely and say: "I wouldn’t do that." How do you know you wouldn’t? Maybe you’d do ten times worse. Now I think we ought to learn something as along life’s path we journey. And I have learned it this way. Instead of rising up in holy horror and in a self-righteous manner, I have tried to say, "I don’t think I’d do that, even though under similar circumstances, but I might." I know others equally strong and equally as honest, who thought they would not, but they did. Peter is a concrete example of the same. This man said: "Lord, I’ll follow thee whithersoever thou goest." Well, you know that’s a worthy statement and a worthy ambition on the part of any man, to want to follow in the steps of the Lord. Just why he had that motive and that desire, I do not know; but I do know this, there are different motives that prompt men to follow the Saviour. In John 6:1-71, Christ said there were those who followed him because of the miracles which he wrought. Well, I can understand a thing of that kind. I have never seen anybody perform miracles, but I have seen magicians, sleight-of-hand performers, and, they are to me, I must confess, most interesting. I’ve seen Mr. Richardson, and Mr. Harold Thurston, and Mr. Blackstone, who possibly is in the city of Nashville now. I know they can’t do some things, but I love to see them do: them anyhow. I love to see a fellow pull up his sleeves and show me, that he hasn’t a thing in the world up his sleeves or in his pockets, and then take some other fellow’s hat and begin to pull out eggs, one, two, three, and a dozen, and two dozen, and three dozen, when there is not an old hen anywhere to be seen. Folks love to follow to see such tricks. I’m not surprised when Jesus said that there were some that followed him not because of trickery or magical power, but because of the real miracles that he wrought. Then there’s another reason.

Christ said "there were those that were following for the loaves and the fishes." And I know that’s so. Back down in my country, in the summer time, you just announce, "dinner all day and preaching on the ground," and you’ll get a tremendous crowd. When all the good things of the country are cooked up and a big crowd gathers, the preacher gets up and thinks, "My! How they have come to hear me from all parts of the land." But they haven’t done anything of the kind. They are there because of the "filling station" that has been announced. I know that’s so. Then again, had you ever thought about it, friends? When a man is riding upon the very crest of popularity with everything going his way, it’s an easy matter to get the people to follow. And let it be said that at the time of this story Christ was at the very height of his earthly career. His enemies had been put out of business; he had overcome the Pharisees; had set at naught the Sadducees, and multitudes were following all ’round about. It’s such an easy matter for someone to come up and say, "Lord, I’m one of your sort." Now, I do not know about this man, but I do know that on this last journey, he came voluntarily to those along the way and said: "Lord, I’ll follow you wheresoever you go." Friends, let me suggest to you: if prompted by the right Spirit, that’s the finest statement that any man on God’s earth can make. A desire actuated by the right impulse to follow in the steps of our Lord is commendable. But I am calling especial attention now to answer that Christ made to him. See the picture. Here is a man voluntarily presenting himself, saying, "Lord, I’ll follow you wherever you go." And the Lord said: "Foxes have holes." I want to know what on God’s earth that’s got to do with this man’s following Christ. He never said anything about going fox hunting. He doubtless said: "I’m talking about following Christ." Alright, "foxes have holes." Now, brethren, what’s that got to do with the man’s request and statement? "I’ll follow you." Note the answer: "Foxes have holes." Suppose some of you preaching brethren get out on Sunday or any day and began to speak forth, and some man comes and says, "I want to follow the Lord." Then you say, "Very well, sir, foxes have holes." He’d think you were not all at home, and that the attic wasn’t thoroughly furnished. Now what’s that got to do with what the man wanted? "Foxes have holes" was the answer to the statement, "I’ll follow wherever he leads." Well, what’s the next? Not only do the foxes of the field have their holes, but "birds have their nests." Yes, I know that, but the man wasn’t talking about birds. He was talking about following Christ. Friends, I think there is, in this, one of the finest lessons that I have ever had to challenge my attention. What’s the point regarding it? "I’ll follow thee whithersoever thou guest." Answer, "foxes have holes, birds of air have nests, but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head." What do you mean, Lord ? "My dear sir, I fear that you might be prompted by the wrong incentive. I want you to understand what all this means. Don’t follow me with the idea of any material gain, of any earthly reward. I want to tell you that the foxes have a place into which they go after preying upon other animals; the birds may wing their way all through the day and warble their sweetest melodies, but when twilight steals across the meadows, and the shadows lengthen, they can make their flight back to their nests, put their heads under their wings and pass into dreamland. All of that is true, but here’s the Son of man; I have not where to pillow my head. Be certain that you follow me for the right purpose and not for any material, worldly, or earthly consideration." I believe, friends, that’s the lesson. And I think, tonight, it ought to be impressed. A criticism is sometimes made of me, and I think it just, and that’s this: "Bro. Hardeman doesn’t spend so much time in exhorting people to become Christians." I am conscious of that weakness as well as are you, but there is another thing. I have seen so many preachers that measure the success of their labors by the number of names they can get, and the number of baptisms, that it has had, possibly, the reverse effect. I think there are lots of people in the church like young watermelons, namely, they were pulled too green, and they never have yet considered what it all spells—what it’s all about. I would not, ladies and gentlemen, enter into any kind of an organization nor any kind of a business unless first some fellow sat with me and explained every crook and turn and every detail. "What does this mean, and that, and the other?" and then, when I am sold on it, I want to stay sold, and not wake up afterward and regret that I have ever done it. I’ve never yet, therefore, tried to get anybody into the church of the Lord Jesus Christ under the spell of excitement. I do not want the great enthusiasm that might cause some boy or girl to lose his head and come to confess the Lord just because some one else did. I want converts who, first of all, understand what the will of the Lord is. I want them taught God’s will and His word prior to becoming Christians. In addition to that, I want them to understand how God expects them to live, and to worship, and to practice the principles of "pure and undefiled religion." I think that’s sound, correct and fundamentally true in all of its phases. Therefore, I’d rather have ten men, genuinely and truly converted, to the gospel of Christ and to the church of the Lord, than a thousand men who are nominally in. Many seem to say: "Because I’ve got a chum, or a pal, or some good friend who is a member, or because they have the nicest meeting-house, and the toniest folks in town, I believe I’ll go and join in with them." Or again, somebody makes the plea to Jim, "Now don’t you think you ought to be a member of the church with your wife? She’s a member. Come on, and be with her, and go along with her." I want to tell you, friends, I never asked a man in my life to become a member of the church of the Lord just because his wife was. I think if that’s the motive, that he will die and land in hell at last, and he might as well go from where he is. And I have never yet made any kind of appeal to some woman, by saying: "I want you to become a Christian because Jim is." That’s not the motive. That’s cheapening to the cause of the Lord Jesus Christ. That’s bringing the church down from the high pinnacle and placing it upon a plane where it does not belong. Hear it—Men ought to become children of God because they are deeply convinced of the correctness of their step and fully aware of their dependence. Each one ought to say: "I recognize that Jesus Christ is God’s Son, the Bible is His word, heaven is the home of the faithful, and when life’s dream is over, I want to be among that number when the saints go marching in regardless of who the company is. I am in it because of my own conviction." If I know myself tonight, I am not a member of the church of God because you brethren are. I appreciate you in all that I should, but I am not a member of the body of Christ because anybody else is. I am a member of it because I believe that Book; I believe in Jesus Christ as the spotless Son of God, and the immaculate son of Mary; I am not following him for any earthly reward; not for prestige, or glory; not for social advantage, or financial gain, or political achievement. I am following him, I trust, actuated and prompted by a motive as pure as the driven snow. I want to dedicate all the powers of my being to his service while here I live and then lean upon his everlasting arms and be wafted home to glory when life’s dream is all over. I think these sentiments are embodied in this very text. "Sir, don’t you follow me because you think that, like a fox, I’ll find a home for you. Don’t follow me because you think I have some nests unoccupied."

Well, after that the Saviour turned to another and said to that man, "Follow me." And the man said I will—but! Now did you ever see a fellow decide to do a thing and then close out with a "but" to it? The chances are, about ten times out of nine, he won’t do it. You can make a deal with a fellow, verbally, and come to terms and a thorough understanding. He will say: "Yes, but I want to see about it." Fare you well—you’d just well count that deal not made. And so this man said: "Lord I will, but!" Well "but" what? "Suffer me first to go and bury my father." I do not know that the man’s father was dead. I am not right certain as to what he meant. Maybe he had this in mind: My father needs my attention, my care; when, perhaps, he is stricken and has died, and I am freed from that responsibility, then I will." Well, I want to tell you, if I should want a position, and were to go to some company and the head of it should say: "Hardeman, I’ll give you a job." “Alright, sir. I want it—but let me go and bury my father!" If he were to say, "No, no," I would feel like turning and saying "Why you old hard-boiled rascal, I don’t want to work for you anyhow. If you are that kind—won’t even let me go and bury my father, I don’t want to have anything to do with you." Yet that’s exactly what Christ demands.

What do you want to do, sir? "I want to follow the Lord!" When? "Oh, after I finish another matter." What is it? "I want to go bury my father." Christ said "Follow me!" What is he trying to indicate? Here it is: There is absolutely no earthly excuse or alibi for a man to postpone following in the footsteps of our Lord. Neither life nor death, nor anything shall come between me and the performance of duty as it pertains to the will of the Lord. "Let the dead bury their dead!" You understand this, of course. There must be a play on the word "dead." One dead man cannot bury another, if they are both dead in the same sense. But there is a figure of speech, technically called, "paronomasia," which means this: The use of the same word close together but with different meaning. Let the dead—those who are not alive to me, uninterested in the cause, out in the world, disconnected w with my work—let them bury the literally dead! Follow me! Now that’s the story.

I happen to know one or two concrete demonstrations. We have a woman in school at Freed-Hardeman College, a widow, from Texas, of an exceeding fine family, a member of the church of the Lord. Her husband died on a Saturday. His body was prepared and brought to the home, where it lay in state, preparatory to the burial on Sunday afternoon. Friends gathered in with all their sympathy and kindness, as neighbors will do. Sunday morning, this woman began to arrange her attire as if she were going somewhere. Her friends asked: "What are you going to do?" She said, "I am going to church." "And your husband lying there, dead?" "Yes. There are plenty of you who would not go to church if he were not dead. Very kindly have you come, and I appreciate your sympathy and your presence. I won’t be gone long, but my duty is at the house of the Lord!" She went. What would you do about it? Did she do right, or not? I’ve been to the town in which she grew up as a girl, married, and lived. Get it! I think she never did anything in her life to make a finer impression of her loyalty and devotion to the cause of Christ than the one act. And that was not for show, but in harmony with her practice from a girl, undisturbed until now. But there were critics on every hand. That’s exactly what the Saviour said—"Let the dead bury their dead, follow me!" And yet I know of some who sit up on the front seat every Sunday morning and sing "I am bound for the promised land" when they ought to be singing "When the roll is called up yonder," (speaker pointed upward) "I’ll be there" (pointing downward), in exactly an opposite direction. They are wonderfully devout at certain times, but a catch in the back or a crick in the neck, or some visitor come, and they’ll just stay at home. Friends, that’s the trouble with the church of the Lord. Jesus Christ stedfastly set his face upon the performance of duty. I have set my face toward the word of the Lord. Now, then, what am I going to let hinder? "Let the dead bury the dead"—even that is not an excuse.

Well, he said to another, "Follow me." And that second one said: "I will—but!" And he had the same idea. "There is something that I lack as yet"—what was it? "Let me first go and bid goodbye to them that are at my home and my house." Don’t you think that is a reasonable request? It appears so. The man wanted to follow Christ. Jesus said: "Sir, No man having put his hand to the plow, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God."

I think there are wonderful lessons in these statements. Have you tonight set your hands to the gospel plow? If so, in what direction are you looking? I used to plow some. I came up back in the country on the farm. I don’t want to enlarge on it as I heard Gov. Bob Taylor do once. When he said he was reared in the cornfield, brought up between two rows of corn, some old fellow called out: "I’ll bet you’re a pumpkin." Years ago, if a man rose early in the morning and broke up one acre of ground a day, he had done all average day’s work. Well, I’ve tried to do that, and about three o’clock in the afternoon when the sun is coming down in a fury, it’s fine to stop and rest for a while, sitting on a two-inch beam of the plow. As you sit there and look back over what you have done, the first thing you know, you’ll think: "Well, I believe that is about an acre. I certainly have been stepping today. Already I’ve done quite a good day’s work." And you can become so satisfied with what you have done, that the first thing you know you will be dropping the traces and tying up the lines ready to quit.

Just look out yonder before you! There are twenty acres to be broken, but that doesn’t impress you just now. We get comfort out of what we have already done and drop the whole thing. That’s the danger that lies along life’s way.

Many a man and his wife, while living out in the country, helped to build the meeting-house. For thirty-five years they swept it every Sunday morning, made the fires in the winter, and, added to that, they always kept the preacher. They gave the most of the money to carry on, and after the thirty-five years of such work they move to the city or town, and he says to her: "Don’t you think we’ve done our part?" She says "Yes, we’ve had a hard struggle." They agree, "Suppose we just take it easy and rest from now on." There’s the danger. What is it? Looking back! Finding comfort and perfect satisfaction in what they have done. God says you cannot do that. There is no such thing as looking back! There is more territory yet to be covered. There’s more ground to be broken.

Why, brethren, as young as I am, I could say to Mrs. Hardeman, "Haven’t we been struggling along for thirty five years with our noses to the grindstone?" Yes. "Have there not been many dark days with great burdens?" Yes. "Have there not been problems that it seemed could not be solved?" All true. "Now don’t you think we ought to let up and take the thing easy?" Perhaps she would agree, and out of the comfort of what we have done, we might drop the handles, die, and land in hell at last. Friends, I can’t do that. I know that God said the man who takes hold of the plow and looks back is not fit for the kingdom of God. Old age is likely to be deceived, in looking back, by the consolation of what it has done. Middle life is too content with the present! Youth looks out upon the future bright with hope and prospect and wants to go on. That is exactly the motive that ought to characterize everyone. Though our hairs be frosted in the service of the Lord, and our cheeks furrowed by the finger of Time, and our forms bonded low, we cannot take our hands from the gospel plow and look back, for Christ says that then we are unfit for the kingdom of God.

Friends, it’s no child’s play to become a Christian. It’s no light thing to live the Christian life. But it’s a serious, solemn, sacred challenge that comes to the intelligence of every man, "Do I believe the gospel story? Do I stand like a stone wall for the eternal truth of God? Am I moved by every wind of doctrine, and swayed by every theory and new-fangled philosophy ? Do I take to every speculation, to every guess, and to every new idea? Having put my hand to God’s eternal plow, with His word as my guide, let me say, "Lord I never intend to give the journey o’er." That is the Spirit that must prevail. That is the Spirit that will conquer, that will be victorious in the end.

You ask one of the purposes of all our meetings? It is to try to arouse brethren, and stimulate them to persistency, and to continuity. I know, brethren, the pitfalls along the way, and the discouragements that confront us. I know the problems that are round about in life’s affairs. I’ve climbed many of the hills and labored up the mountains to have great disappointments one after another, but thank God I expect to keep on, until by and by when the last rung has been climbed and the summit has been reached, in the very sunlight of His eternal presence, I can look across to the glittering crown that awaits the faithful. That is the incentive that ought to inspire and motivate every soul to become a Christian. Is there one in this company who has never decided to follow the Christ? Don’t you think it is time that you made that decision? Are there brethren who once took hold of the plow handles, but because of the enticements and allurements of the world, plus the discouragement of the divided state and bickerings in the church, have become discouraged, and have decided to quit? You can’t do that. Won’t you come tonight, acknowledge any delinquency, any wrong, and rededicate yourself to the cause of Christ? Brethren, roll up your sleeves and determine to fight under the leadership of him who has never yet lost a conflict. Then when it is all over, we will stand with him on the glad plains of Eternity. If there is one of that type and disposition tonight, the invitation is gladly tendered, while once again we stand together and sing.