Most of us sincerely want the full life but we don’t want the steps that lead to it. We want the crown but not the cross. We want the throne of glory but are unwilling to ascend the altar of sacrifice.
The life of the Lord Jesus was the life of fulfillment. It was the only perfect life that has ever been lived on this earth. If you want to know reality, study His life, consider the elements that made it truly successful, and then allow Him to live that life through you.
The story is told in two simple figures–bread and wine. His life was broken bread and outpoured wine. This is the way He took, and He says to us, “Follow Me. Then you’ll know life that is life indeed.”
Think of what fulfillment meant for the Saviour:
1. It meant leaving a home of elegance for a stable. Shocking as it seems, we know that He did it. We have become accustomed to the fact. But we can never seem to become accustomed to the fact that He might want us to leave the affluence of the United States for the squalor of a foreign mission field. Or even worse, that He might want us to leave the pleasant surroundings of an Anglo-Saxon suburb for the unsightly streets of the inner city. We know that He left the glory of Heaven to come to this jungle of sin but it seems very remote that He would ever want us voluntarily to choose a humbler way of life.
2. It meant for Him a life of poverty. He was born of poor stock (from the human side), grew up in poverty, lived in virtual poverty, and died without leaving an estate. In the purposes of God it was impossible for Him to enrich others without impoverishing Himself. Yet we find it easy to rationalize that God has milder methods for us.
3. It meant having no settled place to live. He wandered “as a homeless Stranger in the world His hands had made.” The Lord of glory never slept on an innerspring mattress nor enjoyed the convenience of modern plumbing. I want a life of fulfillment like His but frankly I wouldn’t want to give up my home, my bed, my bathroom. I feel the need of a settled place to live and dread the insecurity of a mobile life.
4. It meant being misunderstood by His own family. They thought He was beside Himself (Mk. 3:21, marg.). I desperately want my life to count for Jesus, but I would never want to be so zealous that my own relatives would consider me insane. I feel that there must be an in-between pathway of pleasing God and pleasing my fellowmen at the same time.
5. It meant being rejected by His own people (Jn. 1:10-11). He experienced the bitterness of being ostracized, of “not belonging.” But then I think, “We live in a more enlightened age. Christianity is more accepted than it was then. We can command the respect of the world and still be good Christians.”
6. It meant for Him a fearless proclamation of the truth of God. In order to be true to God, He often had to hurt His friends by the things He said. On at least one occasion He openly rebuked His host (Lk. 7:45). When I think of this in the context of my own life, it makes me squirm. The fear of what people will think of me holds me back from saying what I know should be said. I find it far more comfortable to maintain cordial relations with those I meet.
7. It meant a head-on collision with the establishment. He could have avoided this by toning down the message, but otherwise it was inevitable that He incur the fury of the scribes and Pharisees. It is the same today. No one could declare the full truth of the Word without finding himself in trouble with the organization. And yet, in order to find the life of fulfillment, we must break loose from the chains and shackles of men and declare the truth that makes men free.
8. It meant being alone. He was alone in life, alone in the garden, and alone at the cross. It’s so hard to be alone when the winds are howling and the tempests are raging. I would like to think that I can reach the summit without suffering the pangs of loneliness.
9. It meant false accusation and venomous hatred. He experienced the most unjustified attacks and felt the shock of being despised when He had done nothing wrong. It seems strange that the God-Man had to endure such contradiction of sinners against Himself. Yet some perverse streak in my nature makes it seem even stranger that I too must drink this cup of sorrow if I am to follow Him!
10. It meant shame. In a sense He came into the world under a shadow and He left under a shadow. They accused Him of being born an illegitimate child and they executed Him as a common criminal. He died outside the camp; and He reminds us that if we want reality, we must go to Him outside the camp, bearing His reproach.
11. It meant suffering–the suffering of Gethsemane and the suffering of Golgotha. Who can ever measure the depths of His suffering? Forsaken by God and abused by man! We know it was true in His case and we have come to accept it. But we resist the fact that we too must suffer if we are to reign.
12. Finally, it meant death for Him. He had to give His life in order to gain it. He found fulfillment in pouring out Himself for others. The sharpness of the cross was one of the crucial ingredients in His formula of fulfillment. And yet–and yet–whenever the cross rears up its head in the pathway ahead of us, we scurry for shelter or seek some easy escape route. “I have bought a piece of ground and I must needs go and see it.” “I have bought five yoke of oxen and I go to prove them.” “I married a wife and therefore I cannot come.” “I will follow Thee, but first let me go bid them farewell which are at home at my house.” “I will follow Thee, but first let me go and bury my father.”
These then were the steps which led the Lord Jesus to fulfillment in life. Because He humbled Himself, God has highly exalted Him. The grave was crowned with resurrection and glory. And the Lord would remind us that there is no other way. There are no short cuts to the crown. There is no other way to find the life that is life indeed. “And He said to them all, if any man will come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow Me” (Lk. 9:23).