If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself, take up his cross and follow me (Mark 8:34).
I was there first with my blinker on. I’m certain of it.
At the ballpark where my son was playing baseball there is a small parking lot right behind the outfield fence. The thrill of actually finding a parking spot in that lot is like winning the lottery. So when I saw the red taillights of the SUV and realized that it would be vacating a place that was perfectly suited for my mini-van, I couldn’t believe my good fortune. I pulled up close enough to make my intentions clear and put my blinker on signaling that I would be occupying the prized piece of real estate.
Another vehicle rolled slowly from the other direction, having explored the lot and missed the opportunity which I was about to seize. As it happened the departing SUV positioned itself in such a way that for a moment my access to the parking space was blocked. That moment was all it took for the other driver to pounce like a beast on its prey. The car quickly shot behind the SUV and slipped into the place I had been waiting on.
I was stunned. Did that really just happen? The driver got out of his car and walked toward the ball field without as much as a glance my way. Disbelief quickly turned to a mix of anger and humiliation. And then came the fantasies: I chase him down, get in his face, and shame him into contrition as he slinks back to his car apologetically. Fat chance.
I then mused on the satisfaction of parking there anyway - ramming my own worn-out vehicle repeatedly into the crowded space until the chrome emblem marking his expensive car lay like crumpled foil on the ground. That felt great, but was not financially viable. Time to move on. Searching for another place to park, I nursed my wounded pride and stewed in my righteous indignation.
There came a point in Jesus’ ministry when he began to speak plainly about how things would end for him, where it was all headed. As Mark tells it in his gospel, Jesus spoke plainly about suffering and rejection and rising again. He made it clear that to follow him meant taking up a cross. As if that weren’t hard enough, Jesus coupled taking up a cross with something else: “Deny yourself.”
When Jesus tells us to deny ourselves he’s telling us to do more than pass on the Oreos and hold off on that big purchase. To refrain from indulgence is not the same as denying the self. What Jesus has in mind is more like saying “get over yourself.” This is a kind of death and we resist it.
The self can be healthy and whole. It can also be huge, grandiose. The grandiose self has a never-quite-satisfied appetite for approval, recognition, respect, acknowledgment, compliance from others. This self loves to be affirmed by having other selves defer to it. It likes to win, to get its way. And to take up a cross, to follow the Jesus way, means that this self must be put to death.
The grandiose self manages to hide, or we manage to hide it, until someone takes our parking place. Typically, it’s the smallest offenses that stoke the monster. At the most negligible slight we’ll drop our crosses and assert our selves. Letting it go, overlooking the dismissive remark, forgetting the insult, ignoring the disregard – it feels like death. Maybe that’s because it is.
For Today:
The healthy self lives by serving and loving others. The grandiose self lives by getting from others. How has your grandiose self been wounded lately? What will it mean to follow Jesus in that situation?
Prayer:
Without a word, Lord Jesus, you went like a lamb to slaughter. We are reluctant to follow you there. Among our great fears are being taken advantage of, embarrassed, treated like a doormat, shown as weak. Help us to learn how to deny self in the practical details of every day. Give us the courage to take up our cross as we walk into this day. Amen.
I was there first with my blinker on. I’m certain of it.
At the ballpark where my son was playing baseball there is a small parking lot right behind the outfield fence. The thrill of actually finding a parking spot in that lot is like winning the lottery. So when I saw the red taillights of the SUV and realized that it would be vacating a place that was perfectly suited for my mini-van, I couldn’t believe my good fortune. I pulled up close enough to make my intentions clear and put my blinker on signaling that I would be occupying the prized piece of real estate.
Another vehicle rolled slowly from the other direction, having explored the lot and missed the opportunity which I was about to seize. As it happened the departing SUV positioned itself in such a way that for a moment my access to the parking space was blocked. That moment was all it took for the other driver to pounce like a beast on its prey. The car quickly shot behind the SUV and slipped into the place I had been waiting on.
I was stunned. Did that really just happen? The driver got out of his car and walked toward the ball field without as much as a glance my way. Disbelief quickly turned to a mix of anger and humiliation. And then came the fantasies: I chase him down, get in his face, and shame him into contrition as he slinks back to his car apologetically. Fat chance.
I then mused on the satisfaction of parking there anyway - ramming my own worn-out vehicle repeatedly into the crowded space until the chrome emblem marking his expensive car lay like crumpled foil on the ground. That felt great, but was not financially viable. Time to move on. Searching for another place to park, I nursed my wounded pride and stewed in my righteous indignation.
There came a point in Jesus’ ministry when he began to speak plainly about how things would end for him, where it was all headed. As Mark tells it in his gospel, Jesus spoke plainly about suffering and rejection and rising again. He made it clear that to follow him meant taking up a cross. As if that weren’t hard enough, Jesus coupled taking up a cross with something else: “Deny yourself.”
When Jesus tells us to deny ourselves he’s telling us to do more than pass on the Oreos and hold off on that big purchase. To refrain from indulgence is not the same as denying the self. What Jesus has in mind is more like saying “get over yourself.” This is a kind of death and we resist it.
The self can be healthy and whole. It can also be huge, grandiose. The grandiose self has a never-quite-satisfied appetite for approval, recognition, respect, acknowledgment, compliance from others. This self loves to be affirmed by having other selves defer to it. It likes to win, to get its way. And to take up a cross, to follow the Jesus way, means that this self must be put to death.
The grandiose self manages to hide, or we manage to hide it, until someone takes our parking place. Typically, it’s the smallest offenses that stoke the monster. At the most negligible slight we’ll drop our crosses and assert our selves. Letting it go, overlooking the dismissive remark, forgetting the insult, ignoring the disregard – it feels like death. Maybe that’s because it is.
For Today:
The healthy self lives by serving and loving others. The grandiose self lives by getting from others. How has your grandiose self been wounded lately? What will it mean to follow Jesus in that situation?
Prayer:
Without a word, Lord Jesus, you went like a lamb to slaughter. We are reluctant to follow you there. Among our great fears are being taken advantage of, embarrassed, treated like a doormat, shown as weak. Help us to learn how to deny self in the practical details of every day. Give us the courage to take up our cross as we walk into this day. Amen.
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