The After Condition of Discipleship.
By George F. Pentecost
“Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be saved,” was the concise answer of Paul to the jailer’s vehement and anxious question, “What shall I do to be saved?” This is simple and is to be taken at its face value. It means just what it says—no more, no less. It was a frank and honest answer to an honest and blunt question. I fancy there was no hair-splitting by the apostle with the jailer concerning the difference between historical and evangelical faith, between traditional and justifying faith. “Believe” was a common every-day word, with a common and every-day meaning. When it was applied to the Lord Jesus Christ, it did not change its meaning in the least, only it mounted from earth to Heaven, and grappled with an object which it had hitherto had no dealing with—so vast and grand, so laden with life and love, and joy and peace, not for time, but for eternity, that it became transfigured in its new relation. That only is the difference between “secular” and “scriptural” faith. In the one case, faith deals with man with reference to temporal things, and in the other case, it deals with God in Christ, laden with grace and glory, concerning spiritual and eternal things. But this simple transaction is not the end of the believer’s relation to Christ. It is but the beginning. It puts him on, perhaps across the threshold of the kingdom of Heaven, but certainly not beyond the vestibule of God’s salvation. Here the believer is met with another condition; not, indeed, a justifying condition, but a testing and qualifying one: “If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.” Now this may fairly be called the after condition of salvation. There are many who stumble and turn back when they come to the cross on which the Son of God died; but I am persuaded that many more turn back (if not openly, at least in heart) when they come to the cross upon which “they who are Christ’s” must “crucify the flesh, with its affections and lusts.” The contemplation of this cross presented by Jesus to every one who will be his disciple leads inevitably to the conclusion that, if there is anything in this life that should be entered upon with careful consideration, it is the open confession of Christ and Christianity; or, for that matter, a secret confession of it to one’s own hope, for this cross lies in the way of the secret, as well as the open confessor, if, indeed, there can be any such thing as secretly confessing Christ, or such a person as a secret disciple. The Christian life should be begun with consideration, if not for others, at least for these two reasons: First, Mistaken views of Christ and his salvation are seldom corrected. That is to say, most people continue in the direction in which they start. Second, If mistaken views are embraced and entertained until they become more or less fixed, they are corrected, if at all, through great pain and sorrow. Far better not enter upon a profession of Christianity than to do so to your own deceiving and to the dishonor of him whose name you have professed. In this connection there is nothing more painful than to see a multitude running after Christ, apparently following on well for a season, and then turning back to the world, deceiving themselves, it may be, and misrepresenting Christ to the world, as they certainly do who are not showing forth his praises and beauties, whose ostensible witnesses they are. And yet this is no uncommon spectacle in our day and generation. The yoke of service and cross of discipleship is taken gayly and lightly, the one to be quickly thrown away as soon as it “crosses” the flesh, and the other, if not slipped entirely, is worn unwillingly and rather as the badge of a service that is galling than as an honored, easy, and joyous instrument of practical allegiance to the Lord of life and glory. Against such mistakes the Saviour repeatedly guarded his hearers, and even those most devoted disciples of the inner circle, as, for instance, when in answer to Peter’s unconsidered remonstrance against his avowed purpose to go up to Jerusalem, there to be betrayed and put to death (Matt. 16: 21–25), he clearly lays down this law. As it was needful for him to purchase salvation by his self-abnegation and death upon the cross, so it was needful for all those who were to come after him to win it by their self-abnegation and death on the cross. And again, in this same connection, he cautions them against hasty discipleship by the parable of the man who began to build a house without counting the cost, or the king who went out to fight his adversary without first ascertaining whether he was able with ten thousand to meet him who came with twenty thousand—“So likewise whosoever he be of you who forsaketh not all that he hath, he cannot be my disciple.” (Luke 14: 25–33). And so, again, not to call to mind more, his most emphatic assertion that no man could serve two masters—i. e., God and mammon (4: 24)—spoken of and to those who were attempting to compass and harmonize two entirely opposite things, viz., the worship of God and the gratification of their own natural desires and inclinations. These and many similar scriptures are worthy of a fresh and profound study by the church of God to-day. We draw from them, at least, these three practical thoughts:— 1. That discipleship must always be a matter of absolutely free and voluntary choice. There may be, and indeed, is, in the case of every truly converted man, divine influence and power brought to bear upon his all-inclusive mind, will, affections, hopes, and fears; but there is no violence, no compulsion by the Spirit of God by which man is forced against his will into a confession of faith in Christ, and so into the ranks of his disciples. His followers are recruited, not drafted. If any man will be my disciple, let him come; but with this understanding, that it involves on his part (1) self-denial, (2) cross-bearing, (3) continuance or endurance to the end. Indeed, the voluntary principle is so far developed in Christianity that it keeps the door open for withdrawal at will. There is no violent compulsion used to make good the doctrine of the saints’ perseverance. It is true that the saints will be kept by the power of God through faith unto salvation; not, however, against, but with the full and eager consent and energy of their wills. At the time of the great apostasy among the early followers of Christ, developed by some preaching of his, which to-day is called “high doctrine,” (John 4: 66–69), Jesus turned to those remaining and said, “Will ye also go away?” as if to say, “I will not keep you against your wills, but will suffer you to go too.” How precious the answer of Peter, “Lord, to whom shall we go?” and they clave to him as Ruth did to Naomi, while Orpah kissed her and departed back to her own country from whence she came out, as many do now. What a vast difference between “kisses,” and “cleaving to” one. 2. Let this truth on both sides of it be so fully established that all make-believe disciples may hesitate before enrolling themselves among Christ’s disciples. There are too many of them in the church now and every added one increases her weakness. In proportion as the house is large and high, and the material poor, the fall is imminent and the calamity will be great; so it is and will be with the nominal church of Christ. Let the after condition be carefully considered both by the church and the professor. 3. And let it be fully realized by those who have already numbered themselves with the disciples, who have brought their bodies into the church, but left their hearts in the world, that the door is open for them to depart, with Demas and others who loved the present world. If any man love not the Lord Jesus Christ, and is not willing to take the cross and follow him in self-denial, “Through duties and through trials too,”
let him go out from among the disciples, and let it be known that the after condition was too hard for the flesh. For be assured that the Master wants no unwilling disciples, no drafted soldiers in his army. If unwilling, he asks you not to enter; if, having entered, you find the cross too repulsive to “the flesh,” or too heavy, or the way too long or diverging too far from the world, and the crown, and palm, and robe, at the end too far off, or not to your mind, then the door is open behind you, and you can depart out as you came in, for he would have all know the truth of this saying: “He that taketh not up his cross and followeth me cannot be my disciple.”—Rev. George F. Pentecost.