The Pastor's Letter (Dated ??)
Dear Friends,
I'm sure that most of us have particular passages in particular books that we have marked down for constant or future reference as the case might be. In his book, "Holiness" J. C. Ryle is constantly presenting us with issues that remain basic and fundamental to the Christian life, and must have application to the Lord's people in whatever age they find themselves.
In his chapter entitled, "The Cost," this is certainly the case and the four things involved in "the cost of discipleship" which the good bishop of another day lists ought to be as fresh and telling to our hearts and minds today as when they were first written.
In the first place, Bishop Ryle informs us of what he does not mean when he speaks about the "cost" of discipleship:- "Let there be no mistake about my meaning," he says, "I am not examining what it costs to save a Christian's soul. I know well that it costs nothing less than the blood of the Son of God to provide an atonement, and to redeem man from hell. The price paid for our redemption was nothing less than the death of Jesus Christ on Calvary. We are 'bought with a price.' 'Christ gave himself a ransom for all.' But all this is wide of the question. The point I want to consider is another one altogether. It is what a man must be ready to give up if he wishes to be saved."
Bishop Ryle also goes on to allow that "it costs little to be a mere outward Christian," and states that this is "cheap and easy work." But with regards to the true Christian pathway, a man ought to be in no doubt concerning the issue of "Counting the cost." So the list is presented:-
(1) For one thing, it will cost him his self-righteousness. He must cast away all pride and high thoughts, and conceit of his own goodness. He must be content to go to heaven as a poor sinner saved only by free grace, and owing all to the merit and righteousness of another. He must really feel as well as say that he has "erred and gone astray like a lost sheep," that he has "left undone the things he ought to have done, and done the things he ought not to have done, and that there is no health in him." He must be willing to give up all trust in his own morality, respectability, praying, Bible-reading, church-going, and sacrament-receiving, and to trust in nothing but Jesus Christ.
Now, this sounds hard to some. I do not wonder. "Sir," said a Godly ploughman to James Hervey, "it is harder to deny proud self than sinful self, but it is absolutely necessary." Let us set down this item first and foremost in our account. To be a true Christian will cost a man his self-righteousness.
(2) For another thing, it will cost a man his sins. He must be willing to give up every habit and practice, which is wrong in God's sight. He must set his face against it; quarrel with it, break off from it, fight with it, crucify it, labour to keep it under, whatever the world around him might say or think. He must do this honestly and fairly. There must be no separate truce with any special sin which he loves. He must count all sins as his deadly enemies and hate every false way. Whether little or great, whether open or secret, all his sins must be thoroughly renounced. They may struggle hard with him every day, and sometimes get the mastery over him. But he must never give way to them. He must keep up a perpetual war with his sins. It is written, "Cast away from you all your transgressions" - "Break off thy sins and iniquities," - "Cease to do evil."
This also sounds hard. I do not wonder. Our sins are often as dear to us as our children; we love them, hug them, cleave to them, delight in them. To part with them is as hard as cutting off a right arm, or plucking out a right eye. But it must be done. Man and sin must quarrel if man and God are to be friends. Let us set down that item next in our account. To be a Christian it will cost a man his sins.
(3) For another thing, it will cost a man his love of ease. He must take pains and trouble if he means to run a successful race to heaven. He must daily watch and stand on his guard, like a soldier on enemy ground. He must take heed to his behaviour every hour of the day, in every company and in every place - in public as well as in private - among strangers as well as at home. He must be careful over his time, his tongue, his temper, his thoughts, his imagination, his motives, his conduct in every relation of life. He must be diligent about his prayers, his Bible-reading, his use of Sundays, with all their means of grace. In attending to these things, he may come far short of perfection; but there is none of them that he can safely neglect.
This also sounds hard. There is nothing we naturally dislike so much as "trouble" about our religion. We hate trouble. We secretly wish we could have a "vicarious" Christianity, and could be good by proxy, and have everything done for us. Anything that requires exertion and labour is entirely against the grain of our hearts. But the soul can have "no gains without pains." Let us set down that item third in our account. To be a Christian it will cost a man his love of ease.
(4) In the last place, it will cost a man the favour of the world. He must be content to be thought ill of by man if he pleases God. He must not be surprised to find his opinions and practices in religion despised and held up to scorn. He must submit to be thought by many a fool, an enthusiast, and a fanatic - to have his words perverted and his actions misrepresented. In fact, he must not marvel if some call him mad.
I dare say this also sounds hard. We naturally dislike unjust dealing and false charges, and think it very hard to be accused without cause. We would not be flesh and blood if we did not wish to have the good opinion of all men. But there is no help for it. The cup which our Master drank must be drunk by his disciples. Let us set down that item last in our account. To be a Christian will cost a man the favour of the world.
So, says Mr Ryle, "Such is the account of what it costs a man to be a Christian." And who can quarrel with what he says? Is it not an absolutely basic and never-changing account sheet? "I grant the list is a heavy one," he says, "but where is the item that could be removed? Bold indeed must that man be who would dare to say that we may keep our self-righteousness, our sins, our laziness, and our love of the world, and yet be saved! I grant it costs much to be a true Christian," he says.
But then, the dear old bishop tilts the balance, and causes every true heart to cry out with Bunyan's pilgrim - "Set down my name, sir!" "But," he says, "who in his sound senses can doubt that it is worth any cost to have the soul saved? When the ship is in danger of sinking, the crew think nothing of casting overboard the precious cargo. When a limb is mortified, a man will submit to any severe operation, and even to amputation, to save life. Surely a Christian should be willing to give up anything which stands between him and heaven. A religion that costs nothing is worth nothing! A cheap Christianity without a cross will prove in the end a useless Christianity without a crown."
God give us all "ears to hear."