When it is infinitely worth it

The Gospel – that is, the cross and resurrection of Jesus – stands everything on its head. It overturns all our assumptions and turns life the right way up.

This morning, as part of my daily discipline, I’ve been reading Psalm 44. As ever, it’s brutally honest. The central cry is simple enough:“Lord, we’ve been faithful — so why has everything fallen apart?”

The psalm begins conventionally enough. It praises God for past blessings – the gift of the land, victory over enemies, the reassurance that “Through you we push back our foes; through your name we trample our enemies” (v5). It all sounds very predictable.

And then, out of nowhere, comes the jolt: “BUT now you have rejected and humbled us; you no longer go out with our armies.” (v9) The tone shifts from triumph to tragedy. “You sold your people for a pittance, gaining nothing from their sale!” (v12)

Here is national catastrophe on an epic scale. Israel feels humiliated, defeated, scattered – and worst of all, abandoned. God seems nowhere to be found.

Presumably – although not necessarily – this is a direct reference to the sack of Jerusalem by the Babylonians in 587BC and the subsequent exile to faraway Babylon of the ruling elite and key players. 

At this point, you expect a confession – an admission of failure, the usual acknowledgement that Israel has broken the covenant. But instead comes the shock: “All this came upon us, though we had not forgotten you; we had not been false to your covenant.” (v17)

This is the psalm’s razor edge. Sometimes God’s people suffer not because they have failed, but precisely because they belong to him.

And then the key verse: “For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.” (v22)

For your sake!

The suffering comes because they are God’s people. No wonder Paul quotes this verse in his magnum opus. He asks the question every disciple asks in hard times: “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?” (Romans 8:35)

Then the aposlte reaches back to Psalm 44:“As it is written: ‘For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.’”We suffer as disciples of Jesus because we are disciples of Jesus. As simple – and as challenging – as that.

Which means this: to proclaim the Gospel as a guarantee of comfort, ease, or endless blessing in the here and now is to turn the Gospel on its head. The cross comes before the resurrection – and the two are inseparable. 

I’m currently reading in my BRF Guidelines an excellent series on the suffering church by author Nick Page.  He makes the key point that the New Testament was written by persecuted Christians for persecuted Christians.  To follow Jesus is a tough but entirely necessary choice.

And Jesus makes it very clear to anyone who would follow him: ““Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” (Mark 8:34)   As Page observes:  “This is more than metaphor: in the New Testament world, the only people seen carrying a cross were on their way to their execution.”

The fact is that currently there are about 365 million (an easy number to remember each day, incidentally) who daily face persecution and discrimination for their faith, about one in seven (another easy number to remember each week).

We are engaged in cosmic warfare. In my own ministry I’ve often warned new Christians to expect some spiritual kickback – usually nothing dramatic, but real nevertheless. And I know from experience, whenever a church takes ground, there is invariably a counter-attack.

Paul puts it starkly: “For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, the authorities, the powers of this dark world and the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.” (Ephesians 6:12)

So the obvious question is: Why bother?

Jesus answers with a pair of wonderfully short parables. Here’s the first:“The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field. When a man found it, he hid it again, and then in his joy went and sold all he had and bought that field.” (Matthew 13:44)

Very simply, whatever the cost of following Jesus, it is infinitely worth it – even though it will not be at all obvious to everyone else.  It’s an entirely rational decision once you discover the treasure. 

And what about the here and now?

Secure in our relationship with God, we – like the psalmist – can bring our deepest fears with a confidence the world cannot grasp. We can address our Creator with breathtaking honesty, knowing we are heard and treasured:

“Awake, Lord! Why do you sleep?Rouse yourself! Do not reject us forever.”(Psalm 44:23)

In other words, God invites our honesty, absorbs our pain, and holds us even when life seems to fall apart.

And that, oddly enough, is how the Gospel turns the world the right way up.