Self-Denial
Mark 8:31–38
This morning’s sermon focus will be on verse 34, where Jesus tells the disciples, “If anyone wants to come after me, let them deny themselves, take up their cross and follow me.”
Did you know that this congregation literally used to take up their cross and follow? Debbie Miller shared with me that, back in the 1970s, when the youth group was thriving, members of the church would carry a heavy wooden cross up a steep hill once a year during Holy Week. Debbie writes that “Someone had the idea of taking a telephone pole--yes, that heavy piece of wood- fashioning a cross piece and then, leaving before dawn on Good Friday, having the youth group kids carry it up the hill on the Nichols property. Church members Don and Marge Nichols were ranchers out on Hwy 66 and were happy to be part of this event. Well, the pole was so heavy that the kids struggled mightily, so at some point, perhaps the second year, the invitation was given to the whole church to join the experience.
We all took turns carrying it — two on each crossbar, about 4 along the long vertical beam. At the crest, we sang some hymns and heard the Scripture of Good Friday. Then large nails and a hammer were available so we could think about the sins we have committed and nail them to the cross. If you knew where to look, the cross would be visible from the road all year, then taken down soon after Ash Wednesday to prepare for Holy Week. One year, a newspaper reporter came along, and we were featured on the front page of that evening's edition.” What a meaningful and memorable event, though I can’t imagine many of us making it all the way up the hill with our congregation now.
Is that what Jesus meant in this verse? Are we to literally take up a cross during Holy Week and honor Jesus by placing it high where others can see it?
Imagine a world where people measure success not by what they accumulate, but by what they give away. Imagine leaders who choose mercy instead of power, service over status, and communities that choose compassion over competition. I think this is the world Jesus invites us into as he calls us to pick up our crosses and follow, but it comes at a cost. So let’s take a closer look at this section of Scripture to see what that cost is and how it applies to us this morning.
Jesus’ Mission: Solidarity with the Suffering (v. 31)
Jesus begins with a difficult lesson for his followers. He will suffer, face rejection by the religious leaders, and die. This is a bitter teaching, not what his followers expected. Jesus chose the path of vulnerability, aligning Himself with the oppressed, marginalized, and rejected in their suffering. Why will he suffer?
His suffering is not divine cruelty, but divine solidarity. God enters into human pain to transform it from within. The cross is not just about personal salvation; it’s about God experiencing the suffering of humankind, and of confronting systems of violence, injustice, and exclusion. Rev. Nadia Bolz Weber writes, God is… “Not a distant judge nor a sadist, but a God who weeps. A God who suffers, not only for us, but with us. Nowhere is the presence of God amidst suffering more salient than on the cross. Therefore, what can I do but confess that this is not a God who causes suffering. This is a God who bears suffering. I need to believe that God does not initiate suffering; God transforms it.”
The Temptation of Comfort and Control (vv. 32–33)
Consider the timing of this teaching. The disciples, and Peter in particular, have just declared to Jesus that he is the Messiah. However, what that title means to Jesus versus what it means to the disciples are 2 different things. One of my seminary professors, Professor Herman Waetjean, wrote, “Jesus’ recognition of the elitist character of the disciples’ confession proves to be mistaken. Suffering and death do not belong to their understanding of messiahship. Peter especially rejects it.” The disciples likely believed in a Messiah who would topple Rome's power, ascend a throne, and rule with an iron rod. They were looking for status, power, and retribution against corrupt foreign power. That is the same kind of power-seeking we see in the Christian Nationalist movement. Author and theologian John Fugelsang wrote, “Under Rome, Christianity transitioned from a persecuted little faith into a force powerful enough to persecute others… the merger of Christianity with imperial power led to it becoming a tool for political control, with countless spiritual teachings twisted for authoritarian purposes…Christian nationalism’s religion is power — a gospel of domination over love.”
Yet Jesus explains that the coming kingdom is one of love over domination and power. He tells them that the Messiah must undergo great suffering, be rejected by those in authority, be killed, and then rise again. They did not want to hear this from their teacher, their rabbi. They were looking for a kindom of domination over love. They wanted a forceful, powerful Messiah who would ascend the throne, command power, and perhaps even give them a share of it.
Just two chapters later in Mark, two of the 12 make a power play. Mark 10:35-36 reads, “35 James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came forward to him and said to him, “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.” 36 And he said to them, “What is it you want me to do for you?” 37 And they said to him, “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.” The Messiah, in their view, would be a powerful ruler, and they would have a place alongside the Messiah. Suffering, thinking of others? That was not in the picture.
So, Peter took Jesus aside and rebuked him, letting him know that his vision was a bit off. Peter sternly reprimanded him for his words. Jesus responded by calling him Satan, and telling him to get back in line. No doubt Jesus was tempted to consider the possibility that God’s anointed might avoid suffering, rejection, and death. Yet God’s rule means power with pain, glory with suffering, and humiliation with victory over death.
The Call to a Cross-Shaped Life (v. 34)
Jesus teaches that disciples must deny themselves. How might this apply to us? Let go of the ego that centers only on your own needs and perspectives. Do not seek power and privilege when following Christ. In looking at this section of scripture, Theologian Bill McKibben writes, “What we are talking about is the endless, gullible, necessary levels of comfort and status and everything else at the complete expense of everything all around us. It’s going to take us a long time to learn how to climb down a little bit from the height on which we have put ourselves.”
Christ calls us to climb down and stand with those who bear the weight of oppression — even when it costs us status, reputation, resources, or relationships. Therefore, we stand with those who suffer in our nation and world- with immigrants, refugees, the unhoused, the oppressed. When Jesus says, “Follow Me,” he wants us to actively participate in God’s work of justice, liberation, reconciliation, and healing.
The Paradox of Liberation (vv. 35–37)
What does Jesus mean in verse 35? “For whoever will save their lives will lose them, and whoever loses their lives for my sake and the gospel’s will save them.” I believe Jesus’ words here are twofold in meaning. The first meaning has to do with being willing to sacrifice our very lives for the glory of God’s kindom, as many have done throughout the centuries and as some persecuted Christians are doing even today.
The second meaning has to do with what society deems as a successful life- if we seek fortune and fame, standing and success, we will find ourselves lost. Jesus then says in verse 36, “For what profit is it to a person if they gain the whole world, and lose their own soul?” Theologian William Barclay says, “There is no place for a policy of safety first in the Christian life. The one who seeks first ease and comfort and security and the fulfillment of personal ambition may well get all these things-but they will not be happy.” It is when we place Christ first in our lives that we may lose our creature comforts and notions of success, but we will find the true-life God intends for us- a life of fulfillment, a life of service to others and praise, a life that brings glory to God, rather than to ourselves. When we give ourselves away for the sake of love and justice, we discover a deeper, freer, more meaningful life.
Conversely, our humanity is diminished when we ignore the suffering of others; our souls are restored when we live in solidarity. German theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote ”A Christian is someone who shares the sufferings of God in the world.” That is the kind of life Christ invites us to find. This passage is about transforming the world so that God’s will is done “on earth as it is in heaven,” which we say every Sunday in worship.
Courage in the Face of Shame (v. 38)
In verse 38, Christ calls disciples not to be ashamed of the Gospel. How might this apply to us here this morning? In a culture that prizes power and self-interest, standing for inclusive, radical love can be misunderstood or mocked. God’s future belongs to those who dare to live as if good is stronger than evil, love is stronger than hate, that light is stronger than darkness, life is stronger than death, and justice is worth the risk of living in such a way.
Conclusion: The Invitation to Risk
Jesus calls us to pick up our crosses and follow. He calls us to a life that risks comfort for compassion, privilege for partnership, and safety for solidarity.
Challenge: Where is God calling you to “lose” your life — your comfort, your certainty, your privilege — so that others might live? Rev. Nadia Bolz Weber writes, “When Jesus says deny yourself, then maybe it’s really denying the self that wants to see itself as separate from God and others. Deny the self that believes that spirituality is a suffering avoidance program. Deny the self that does not feel worthy of God’s love. Deny the self that thinks it is more worthy of God’s love than its enemy is. Deny the self that thinks it can do itself. Deny the self that is turned in on the self.”
Invitation: Let us take up our crosses together, not as a burden of guilt, but as a banner of love that refuses to let injustice have the last word. Alleluia. Amen.
