The Great Exchange: Discipleship in a Treacherous Age Text: Mark 8:34-38
Introduction: The Non-Negotiable Terms of Service
We live in a soft age. Our Christianity has become soft. We have convinced ourselves that Jesus is a celestial guidance counselor, a divine affirmation coach, whose primary job is to help us achieve our best life now. We treat the call to follow Christ like a consumer choice, browsing the aisles of religion for a product that suits our lifestyle, a product that comes with minimal disruption and a generous return policy. We want a Jesus who will co-sign all our ambitions, bless all our trivial pursuits, and never, ever, ask for anything that might cost us something.
But the Jesus we meet in the Gospels, and particularly in this passage, is not a product to be consumed. He is a King to be obeyed. And when He calls the crowd to Him, along with His disciples, He is not making a suggestion. He is laying down the terms of surrender. This is not a negotiation. This is the non-negotiable terms of service for the kingdom of God. And just like those terms of service you scroll past and click "agree" on without reading, many have done the same with Jesus, only to find themselves shocked when the actual demands of the contract are enforced.
This passage comes immediately after Peter's great confession that Jesus is the Christ, and Jesus' subsequent, shocking revelation that He must suffer, be rejected, and be killed. Peter, speaking for all of us in our worldly wisdom, rebukes the Lord. "This shall never happen to you!" And Jesus' reply is one of the most severe in all of Scripture: "Get behind me, Satan!" Why so harsh? Because Peter was thinking like a man, not like God. He was savoring the things of man: power, glory, comfort, and self-preservation. He wanted a crown without a cross.
And so Jesus turns to the whole crowd, to anyone who was entertaining the idea of following Him, and He lays out the price of admission. It is a total price. It is an absolute price. It is a price that our therapeutic, self-esteem-soaked, comfort-addicted generation finds utterly offensive. But it is the only price there is. To follow Christ is to die. That is the job description. Any other gospel is a cheap counterfeit, a flimsy fraud, and it will save no one.
The Text
And He summoned the crowd with His disciples, and said to them, “If anyone wishes to come after Me, he must deny himself, and take up his cross and follow Me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for My sake and the gospel’s will save it. For what does it profit a man to gain the whole world, and forfeit his soul? For what will a man give in exchange for his soul? For whoever is ashamed of Me and My words in this adulterous and sinful generation, the Son of Man will also be ashamed of him when He comes in the glory of His Father with the holy angels.”
(Mark 8:34-38 LSB)
The Threefold Requirement (v. 34)
Jesus begins with three sharp, staccato commands that form the indivisible core of discipleship.
"If anyone wishes to come after Me, he must deny himself, and take up his cross and follow Me." (Mark 8:34)
First, "he must deny himself." Let us be very clear about what this does not mean. This is not a call to simple self-denial, like giving up chocolate for Lent or turning off the television to read a book. This is not about denying things to yourself. It is about denying your self. The Greek verb here, aparneomai, means to disown, to repudiate, to refuse to be associated with. It is the same verb used to describe Peter's denial of Christ in the courtyard. To deny yourself is to say, "I do not know the man." It is to conduct a hostile takeover of the little tyrant on the throne of your heart, that autonomous self who has been calling the shots since the Garden. It is to declare your old self an outlaw, a rebel, and a traitor to the true King. It means you no longer have the right to your own opinions, your own ambitions, your own desires, or your own life. You have been bought with a price. You are under new management.
Second, "and take up his cross." In our day, we have domesticated the cross. We have turned it into a sentimental piece of jewelry, a pious decoration. We talk about our "crosses to bear" as though it means putting up with a cranky boss or a persistent headache. This is a grotesque trivialization. To the first-century listener, the cross meant one thing and one thing only: a gruesome, shameful, public execution at the hands of the Roman state. A man carrying his cross was a dead man walking. He had no rights. He had no future. He was on a one-way trip to his own death. Jesus is saying that to follow Him is to embrace your own execution. It is to willingly accept the world's verdict on you. The world hated Him, and if you follow Him, it will hate you. The cross is the place where your reputation goes to die. It is where your worldly ambitions are crucified. It is where you publicly identify with a rejected and executed King.
Third, "and follow Me." This is the positive action that flows from the first two negations. Having denied your self and taken up your cross, you are now free to actually follow. To follow means to go where He goes, to walk in His steps, to obey His commands. It is a continuous, moment-by-moment submission to His lordship. It is not a one-time decision in a moment of emotional fervor. It is a long obedience in the same direction. And where is He going? He has just told us. He is going to Jerusalem to die. To follow Him is to follow Him to that place of ultimate sacrifice.
The Great Paradox (v. 35)
Jesus then explains the logic of this radical call with a profound paradox.
"For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for My sake and the gospel’s will save it." (Mark 8:35 LSB)
Here, the word for "life" is psuche, which can mean physical life, but more deeply it means the soul, the self, the seat of one's identity. Jesus is setting up a fundamental choice. You can spend your days trying to save your life, to protect it, to insulate it, to build a fortress of comfort and security and self-fulfillment around it. This is the great project of fallen man. We want to be safe. We want to be happy. We want to be in control. We want to preserve our psuche. But Jesus says that this very effort, this desperate grasping at self-preservation, is the guaranteed way to lose everything. The man who makes his own life his ultimate goal will forfeit it eternally. His little kingdom of self will be shattered against the rocks of God's reality.
But the one who "loses his life for My sake and the gospel's" will save it. To lose your life is to give it away. It is to hand over the keys. It is to abandon the project of self-fulfillment and enlist in the project of God's kingdom. It is to stop asking, "What will make me happy?" and to start asking, "What will glorify Christ?" It is to pour yourself out in service to Him and for the sake of His good news. And in that very act of losing, of giving away, you find true life. You find the life you were created to live. You save your soul not by hoarding it, but by squandering it on the only one worthy of it.
The Ultimate Bad Bargain (v. 36-37)
Jesus drives the point home with a pair of devastatingly logical questions, framed in the language of the marketplace.
"For what does it profit a man to gain the whole world, and forfeit his soul? For what will a man give in exchange for his soul?" (Mark 8:36-37 LSB)
This is the ultimate cost-benefit analysis. Jesus puts two things on the scales. On one side, "the whole world." Imagine it. All the money, all the power, all the fame, all the pleasure, all the experiences that this world has to offer. Pile it all up. Every last bit of it. On the other side of the scale, He places one thing: "his soul." Your soul. That eternal part of you that was made in the image of God.
And He asks, what's the profit? If you could have it all, every last drop of worldly success, but in the process, you forfeit your soul, what have you gained? The answer is nothing. It is an infinitely bad bargain. It is cosmic bankruptcy. You have traded a diamond for a handful of dust. You have traded an eternal mansion for a cardboard box that is about to be washed away in the rain. Satan offered Jesus this very deal in the wilderness, and Jesus refused. Every day, the world offers us the same deal on an installment plan, and we are fools to accept it.
The second question reveals the finality of this transaction. "For what will a man give in exchange for his soul?" Once it is forfeited, it is gone. There is no buy-back clause. You cannot, on the day of judgment, offer to give back all your worldly gains to get your soul back. The price is too high. The only thing valuable enough to redeem a soul is the blood of the Son of God, and if you have rejected Him, you have rejected the only payment that can be made.
The Final Reckoning (v. 38)
Finally, Jesus brings it all to a terrifying and glorious conclusion, pointing to the final judgment.
"For whoever is ashamed of Me and My words in this adulterous and sinful generation, the Son of Man will also be ashamed of him when He comes in the glory of His Father with the holy angels." (Mark 8:38 LSB)
Here is the practical test of discipleship in the here and now. Are you ashamed of Jesus and His words? Notice He links the two inextricably. You cannot claim to love Jesus while being embarrassed by what He taught. You cannot edit His words to make them more palatable to the spirit of the age. To be ashamed of His words on marriage, on sexuality, on sin, on judgment, on His own exclusive claim to be the only way to the Father, is to be ashamed of Him.
And where must we be unashamed? "In this adulterous and sinful generation." The pressure to be ashamed is immense. Our generation is defined by its rebellion against God's authority. It is "adulterous" in that it has forsaken its covenant with its Creator to chase after other gods: the god of self, the god of sexual autonomy, the god of materialism. It is "sinful" in that it calls good evil and evil good. In such a generation, to stand with Christ and His Word is to invite mockery, scorn, and persecution. It is to be called a bigot, a hater, a fool. The temptation to trim, to compromise, to go silent, to be ashamed, is powerful.
But the stakes are ultimate. There is a day of reckoning coming. The Son of Man, the one who was rejected and crucified, will return. And He will not return in humility, but "in the glory of His Father with the holy angels." On that day, the tables will be turned. The great reversal will take place. And if you were ashamed to be identified with Him in His humiliation, He will be ashamed to be identified with you in His glory. To be disowned by the King of the universe on the final day is the definition of ultimate and eternal loss. But for those who were not ashamed, for those who denied themselves, took up their cross, and followed Him, for those who lost their lives for His sake, that day will be the day of their vindication. He will confess their names before His Father, and they will enter into the joy of their Master.
This is the choice before us. There is no middle ground. You can have the world, or you can have your soul. You can have the approval of this sinful generation, or you can have the approval of the coming King. You cannot have both. Choose this day whom you will serve.