Covenant Presbyterian Church

"The disciple is not above his teacher, nor the servant above his Lord." I first gave serious consideration to these words in college, and, quite frankly, they shook me to the depths of my soul. Jesus’ life, I knew, was not one of ease and comfort. If anything, he was the busiest man who ever lived. It is impossible to estimate the number of sermons he preached, the miracles he performed, or the private visits from concerned men and women that often occupied him into the wee hours of the morning. He carried the constant burden of the sins of the world upon his shoulders: our penalty, misery, and powerlessness. Direct, furious Satanic attack, we have every reason to believe, was not an occasional occurrence (Luke 4:13). The stark reality of the cross stood grimly before him. On his darkest earthly night, he almost expired under the weight of approaching judgment. Having born our grief, served constantly, and suffered untold agonies of body and soul, he faced the judgment of his Father, the cup of divine judgment due to us for our iniquities.

Our Savior’s life, to add another level to his grief, was hardly one we could call celebrated. Yes, he had seasons of popularity. The masses loved his steadfast opposition to the established Jewish leadership, his miracles, and even his words. But the popularity ended. When he placed his all-knowing finger on the root of man’s problem, they turned from him and upon him - all but a very small band. He would accept neither safe conservatism nor radical revolution. He warned against externalism, ritualism, and sacramentalism. He pointed to the heart of man as the source of evil in the world. Because he rejected a political solution to life’s ultimate problem, the Jews finally rejected him. His words placed them under the same judgment as the hated Gentiles. In the midst, then, of his sufferings, he was rejected by men. The Savior of the world stood alone.
And he calls me to imitate his life of sacrifice, suffering, and opposition? I shudder. Yet, he said that his disciples are not above him. We can expect no other kind of life than he led. This does not mean, of course, that the full measure of our Savior’s suffering is our lot in life. His triumph over sin, Satan, and death, the progressive growth of his kingdom, and the greater kingdom works he empowers his Church to do by the power of the now-outpoured Spirit means that our lives will always be easier than his. God in his goodness and providence often grants us seasons of rejoicing and reprieve, victory and rest. Nevertheless, we should anticipate at least a few drops from his cup to fall upon our lives. Paul once wrote that we carry about the death of the Lord that his life may be revealed in us (2 Cor. 4:10-11).
There is another aspect of our Savior’s life that bears careful attention whenever we consider being like the Master. As gut-wrenching as his life was, our Savior promised that his joy would be fulfilled in us. In fact, he seemed to be possessed by a deep and consuming joy. He also enjoyed an incredible inward sustenance and power. He once said, "I have food to each of which you do not know. My food is to do the will of my Father and to finish his work." He always had a kind word, a loving touch, a moment of meaningful interaction for those struggling with sin and life’s problems. The writer to the Hebrews describes our Savior’s motivation as the "joy set before him." Somehow, joy and cross-bearing, love and suffering, came together in our Savior’s life. This, to me, is the great challenge of Christian discipleship - combining the "joy set before our Savior" with "enduring the cross." We share in this intriguing, paradoxical dynamic with our Savior, and learning the way in which to bring these together is the high point and sustaining power of Christian discipleship.
Being like the Master means, first, that we establish our complete joy in doing the will of our Father in heaven. Granted, this immediately brings conflicts with sin, for we find another law in our body that fights against the new man of righteousness that delights in God’s law. But God does not measure our progress in this life by unattainable perfection but by his marvelous grace. Having our Savior’s joy fulfilled in us means that behind the clouds of life, the daily duties, and the periodic hardships we endure for Christ’s sake, we see by faith the face of our heavenly Father smiling at us. We know his merciful and loving side through Jesus Christ. He knows our struggles even as he knew his Son’s. He knows that we carry about the treasure of the gospel of grace in jars of clay, still-cracked vessels that await the resurrection dawn to be renewed and filled completely with the piercing rays of divine love and glory. Knowing our Father through Jesus, we have joy. We have his food. We have eternal life. This treasure must be nurtured and expanded through daily fellowship with our Savior, setting our affections on things above, allowing the word of Christ to dwell richly in us, and enjoying the fellowship of the Spirit through the word and prayer. If we do these things, we will have joy, his joy. We will have an inner power to resist sin and walk with God humbly. This is not an esoteric spiritual principle; it is the life, the power, and the grace of our Savior unfolding in our own lives.
This joy, because it is like our Savior’s, is not joy that allows us to ignore the struggles and problems of life and the warfare with sin and Satan to which we are called. We cannot escape the discipline of the cross, the will of God to sanctify all his children through daily participation in the cross of Jesus Christ. We will be cross-bearers, or we have no part in Christ. But it is a joyful cross-bearing - a joy that remembers sin and Satan were defeated at the cross and will be defeated in life through the power of God. It is a joy that sees one’s struggle with sin as an extension of Christ’s struggle with sin. I am fighting the same battle he fought. He won it; I will win it, progressively now and definitively later. I am seeking the goals he sought - the glory of the Father, the salvation of sinners, and the building of the Church. I have the same helps - the promises, power and presence of God. This, I think, is being like the Master - when we see our struggles with sin, the lingering curses of this passing-away world, and the grief we bear as contributors to joy. Through them, our Father is accomplishing marvelous purposes of redemption. Through them, he is conforming us to the image of his Son. Through them, on earth and in the broader cosmic battle that rages each day, our Father is defeating the powers of hell and filling the earth with the knowledge of his glory as the waters cover the seas. He did this through our Master and Lord. He is doing it through us, for we are like him, never above him. We share in his life, his triumphs and grief, his power and joy.
You and I must bring these two together. When we seek escapist joys - discipleship without the cross, joy without responsibility, life without struggle, it will be a hollow joy. Our joy will not be like his: deep, empowering, and engrossing. It will not satisfy. We will still be hungry and thirsty, which is the surest proof that we have not yet eaten and drunk our Savior and partaken of his life. The tears we cry will not be like Jesus’: for strength to endure to the end, for submission of our will to our Father. It will not be an emptying of our own desires that we might be filled with desire for God and supreme happiness in him. They will be tears of bitterness, of lost opportunity, of the existential angst of self-inflicted misery and frustration. And the sufferings we endure, if we do not spurn them altogether, will only make us angry and confused. They will hardly lead to the crown of life. Is not the failure to bring these two together - joy and cross-bearing, joy in cross-bearing, cross-bearing as joy - is it not the ultimate reason for the powerless that occasionally afflicts us, the anxiety, the spiritual drifting and dissatisfaction.
I seek a pole-star, an immoveable anchor of the soul, a light that no darkness can extinguish. I can only have it when I am like the Master. Then, let Satan roar as he may. Let temptations rage and threaten. Let the whole world continue its topsy-turvy descent into sin and judgment. I do not like these things and do not want them. I look forward to the hour when Satan is thrown into the lake of fire, when sin breathes its last, and when the world is ultimately renewed by the power of God through Jesus Christ. I, you, the Church, we can only reach this glorious destiny by being like the Master - by finding our joy in the Father, carrying the cross with joy and glory, and reveling in the privilege of being in and like the One who bore it all and now bears us - in his train of victory, by his power, and unto everlasting life and joy.