The Challenge Of The Cross

“If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me” (Luke 9:23). “And there followed him a certain young man” (Mark 14:51).

I want to talk to the young people and especially the young men. I want to talk to you about a full priced religion, the kind that is not afraid to face a Gethsemane and a Calvary and that holds not its life dear unto itself for the sake of truth and righteousness. One of our English poets [Thomas Hood, 1799–1845] has said:

“Evil is wrought for want of thought,
As much as want of heart,”

Which is simply another way of saying that when we face a need or a difficulty, our hearts will be stirred to meet that difficulty and remedy that need.

It is the glory and the first quality of youth to be courageous and any normal young man would rather be banished forever than branded as a coward and know that he deserved it. We cannot help admiring courage any more than we can help feeling that cowardice is contemptible.

I am bringing to the youth of this land the call of Christ, the challenge of the cross, because the future of our nation and the future of the church is largely in their hands and because there is a work before our young people that will call for the very bravest and best that is in them.

Then again, I appeal to the youth, because I feel there is a supreme attraction in Jesus Christ for young men. He Himself was a young man. In our day, men seldom reach the place of notice until they have passed the middle mile-post, but all of His marvelous life was lived out in the brief period of thirty-three years. The gray-haired doctors of His day, when they could not meet His argument sneered at His youth and said, “Why he’s not fifty years old. Does He teach us?” They attached ignorance to youth and wisdom to old age, but the youthful carpenter of Nazareth stood there before them teaching, illumining, and rebuking and representing the supremacy of youth. Then again, I would remind you that Jesus was strongly attracted by the young. This is most obvious as we study His ministry. He reciprocated their hopes. He loved the freshness of their impulse, and was extremely sorry when they turned away from Him. With Him, it was not simply a matter of saving the souls of men. He “came to save” not only “that which was lost” but that which may be lost. He came to save the whole man, the character, the mind, the constitution, the influence.

It is a great grace that will save a criminal that will meet a murderer on the gallows and blot out his past and fill him with hope for the next world, but it is a greater salvation that will meet the boy and the girl at the very beginning of life and save them from ever being outcasts, drunkards, or criminals. You not only need Christ to save you for heaven, but you need Him to make you safe in Chicago.

The Call Of Christ

The call of Christ is, “Come after me,” and this is no coward’s job. He also said, “If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross.”

With many, Christianity is little more than a life insurance policy, just a matter of personal safety. They see the Christ that heals and saves, but not the Christ that serves and suffers, the Christ that is against every act of injustice, cruelty, and tyranny, and is ever the courageous champion of the poor, the trampled and despised, the Christ that dared to die for others and for the sake of righteousness and truth.

Of late, we have been hearing a great deal about the church having to change her methods if she is to retain her place in the respect of men. I grant you that a change is needed, and needed very badly, but the need is to accept the challenge of the cross, and to follow Christ. He seems to be saying to us tonight:

“I have been to the cross for you, I have created the offense of the cross, and I have aroused the opposition of the enemies of the cross, but more than that, because I have been to the cross, I have made possible the message of the cross, which declares to you the possibility of righteousness, sanctification, and redemption.” “Because of my cross,” says Christ, “you can have righteousness, you can be justified in the sight of a holy God, and therefore made ready for death, and fit for heaven. Because of my cross, you can know an experience of sanctification by which the spirit of God can develop the divine life in you, to enrich and ennoble your life, and transform and transfigure it. And because of my cross, you can know the redemption which can mean for you complete deliverance, absolute victory, and constant triumph over sin and evil.”

“But,” says Christ, “you cannot enter into the blessings of the message of the cross unless you are willing for the offense of the cross, willing to fight the enemies of the cross, and that is my challenge to you. I have brought you these wonderful blessings through the cross, but these blessings are only given to those who are my disciples, and if any man will not come after me and take up the cross, he cannot be my disciple. And therefore, the blessings cannot be his.”

Religion That Costs Something

You see, this kind of religion costs something; and there are few who are willing to pay the price. I heard of a man the other day who had a very significant dream. He was visiting in a large city and had spent the day viewing different places of interest. At night he had a dream. He thought that he came to a large building, over the door of which was written, “Treasure House; Free to All.” He noticed, however, that very few people went in, although multitudes were passing by. He was curious and decided to enter. When he reached the inside, he noticed that around the building in different departments were the things that people most desire in this life, such as health, happiness, fame, and efficiency. As the people came in the door they looked about for the thing they wanted, but as they approached and were about to appropriate it, a man on guard said: “Not without the price.” And then he observed that each thing was very plainly marked—the price of health was self-control; of happiness, unselfishness; for efficiency, discipline; for fame, sacrifice; and for sympathy, suffering. But he was greatly impressed with the fact that very few received the things that they desired. They were not willing to pay the price.

Poor Christians

For the same reason we have a great many poor Christians in the churches. I do not mean Christians that are poor, but poor representatives of Christ we profess to follow, who are not willing to pay the price.

A few years ago, a great deal of enthusiasm was created among the young people in our churches through a book written by Rev. Charles Sheldon on “What Would Jesus Do.” Now the best way to find out what Jesus would do is to consider what Jesus did. This will help us to see what is involved in our acceptance of the challenge, “follow me.” I think if we come after Him, we shall surely do what He Himself did. Now listen to the Word of God: “I came,” says Christ, “into the world, to do the will of Him that sent me.” There you have a specific purpose. “The Son of Man came to minister and give His life a ransom.” There you have sacrificial service. “The Son of Man came to seek and save that which was lost.” There you have a supreme passion for lost men. And I think that following Jesus will mean those three things.

The challenge of the cross means, first of all, a specific purpose.

Specific, Passionate Purpose

“I came into the world for one thing, to do the will of Him that sent me.” This reveals the great principle of our Lord’s life. This was the driving force back of all His deeds, words, and thoughts. That fact gripped, mastered, and dominated Him. It regulated every thought, wish, and desire, whether in His humble home or at the carpenter’s bench in Nazareth, or in the lonely wilderness of hunger and temptation, whether in the sick chamber or at the chilly sepulchre, whether walking the dusty road or upon the raging sea, whether it was cleansing a leper or raising the dead, whether preaching to great crowds or talking to a lone individual, whether agonizing in the garden or dying as a criminal upon the tree, from the cradle to the cross, from the advent to the ascension. He lived for just one thing, to do the will of Him that sent Him.

And He is saying tonight, “Come after me,” and let this one purpose dominate your whole life.

In writing to a young man who is seeking for light as to the future of his life, I quoted from a great preacher of the past: “If only we have a definite purpose, an object and scheme in life, than all the thousands of strands that lie across the pathway of the future can be taken up and woven into a strong cable: but if we have no idea, no clear objective, no specific purpose in life, then we will play with the strand and in the end, there shall be neither strands nor cable.”

Or as another said: “Life to many people is a meandering, not an errand, it is a slouch, not a quest; it is vagrancy when it ought to be a grand crusade, but when life begins to gather its vagrant energies and concentrate them upon a supreme quest, then life becomes majestic.”

No Definite Object

What is wrong with many of you is this: That you have no clear aim in life, no definite objective, no gripping purpose that controls and masters you. Christ is calling you to come after Him and let your life be mastered by the great purpose that mastered His, to do the will of God, to have God’s plan and purpose translated and worked out into actuality in your life day by day.

Perhaps you will remember the words of the famous Admiral Togo. Just before the tremendous naval battle in which he practically annihilated the Russian fleet, he wrote to a friend and said: “After a thousand varying thoughts, now one fixed purpose.”

If only I could get every young man and young woman in this house tonight to go out of this gathering saying, after many varying thoughts, after all kinds of alms and objects, I am going to have just one purpose in life, to follow Christ wherever He may lead.

You remember the apostle Paul said, “One thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 3:13–14).

And if you and I will go from this service, determining that our response of Christ’s challenge will be, “Lord, my life is going to be mastered by this one purpose,” then my effort will not have been in vain.

But this specific purpose will lead also to a sacrificial pathway. “The Son of man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister” (Mark 10:45). The whole story of His life is one of sacrifice, and in this He is saying, “Come after me, come after me.” Sacrifice is the great law of life. Every man who has ever done anything worthwhile for his fellow-kind has poured some of his life’s blood into it.

Sanctified Grit Needed

But is it not true that you and I shrink from sacrifice? We will do many things for Him when there is no peril in the doing of them, when the work is easy and popular, when there may be some compensation in it, when it will bring praise and congratulation; but if the work can only be done by the sacrifice of time, money, and worldly interests, then we shrink and fail. We admire the heroic in the soldiers who brave death, and yet we, the soldiers of the King of kings are so often cowards with no heroism for Jesus. We require a little more sanctified grit, a little more iron in our blood that will make us willing to suffer and dare. A little time ago, a lady who had said goodbye to one of her several sons who had gone to the front, was visited by a friend who began to sympathize with and comfort her. But she refused sympathy and said, “Do not sympathize, we are all giving our very best these days.” But are we giving our best these days? What about the challenge of the cross? We have not given Christ our best. In fact, I sometimes think we are giving Him our worst. Was not the Great War a challenge to the church and, especially, to the young people who make Christian profession? When we see the lacerated men who go about our streets bearing the illustrious scars of the battle upon their bodies, are they not challenging us to a new type of Christianity? I think they demand the end of our easy-going, self-centered, conventional religion, and seem to shame us into something more costly and sacrificial in the name of Christ than has characterized our religion in the past.

I have not time to speak to you about the supreme passion for lost men. But I summons you to the standard of the cross. May you be prepared to take the sacrificial pathway. May your heart be aglow with a love for God and for the lost of your fellow-kind.

The great Garibaldi said to his followers, “I have nothing to offer you but cold, hunger, and rags,” and the youths of Italy rose up in their thousands and followed their great leader. Christ is calling to Christian life that will mean sacrifice, surrender, self-denial, and an abandonment of many things that we hold dear. Shall we respond, shall we say with young Isaiah, “Here am I, Lord”?