Jesus not only excludes appeal to all forms of selfishness, he antagonizes them to the death. His first and last word, his ultimatum, is, “If any man will be my disciple, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily and follow me.” His first word is a challenge to surrender the stronghold of self-will. Till surrender is complete there can be no peace. A mere man would be counted insane—and justly enough—to talk of advancing any little scheme of improving things about him in any such way—and because it is so utterly unlike a man’s way.
Jesus offers no inducement to mere self-interest. He promises absolutely nothing of the things the world is in sore travail and anxiety to secure. He does not promise pleasure, or honor, or fortune, or power, or health, or long life. He does say God will see to it that true Christians shall have what is good for them. But in many ways he makes plain that “what is good for them” will often include what the world calls evil.
Jesus nowhere so much as seems to think of what men of the world call good; the things they strive for so, and give their time and strength and lives to gain.
It is an utter mistake to suppose that Jesus offers worldly prosperity as a reward for duty, a premium on piety. Those who try to read this meaning into an apostle’s writings misread him; it is against all his teaching. It is true, doubtless, as Paul says, “Godliness is profitable unto all things, having the promise of the life that now is and of that which is to come.” But “the promise of the life that now is” cannot, in the kingdom of Jesus, mean worldly things; it means goodness, God’s peace in man’s soul, Christ-likeness in man’s heart here and now. Undoubtedly religion makes this a better world, but not because it makes man richer, but purer.
If we believe in Jesus and in his work in the world at all we may, if we wish, find out what he meant by what has followed. It is true that the religion that makes men good restrains them and protects them from the follies and sins that waste energy and squander fortune; but it is utterly misleading and confusing to try to read into the words of Jesus the idea that he appeals to any mere selfish interest by promising fortune to the good. It is like making worldly riches the reward of meekness and long life the premium on obedience to parents.
Some very rich people have been deeply religious, but in spite of their wealth. It is as Jesus said, “All things are possible with God.” It was he also who said, “How hardly shall they that have riches enter into the kingdom of God.” But Christ’s best ones have not succeeded in this world according to money or other such gauges.
If the work of Jesus—who excludes from his plans force and the cunning of diplomacy, who denounces all selfishness and ignores all self-interest, who demands absolute self-surrender at the very outset—is to abide in the world, is to succeed, then it must go against the tide, and not with it.
At one time Jesus seemed to think his hearers might possibly misapprehend him, and he told them plainly that poverty, trouble, sorrow, persecutions in this world, awaited them if they followed him. And he told them plainly, also, that if they would have any part in him and with him they must flinch at nothing—that they must die if need be. When they did understand him “many went back from following him.” And many are joining their company to this day.
What he said to the young ruler he said to all; nay, says to us all to-day: “The foxes have holes; and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head.” And we do him the deep dishonor of believing that he spoke the words of mere sentiment! He could only mean by his words to the rich young man, “Come with me and welcome; I will help you, I will save you; but for this world I can promise you nothing.” He himself was always a poor man, and his poverty was not an accident in his manner of life. There never was a man too poor to be a friend to Jesus, never a man so rich that he could find special favor in those eyes that were “single” and “full of light.”
Jesus could not have offered holiness to men as the chief good of man, with worldly blessings as a reason for being good; it would have spoiled the Gospel. He never promised that his disciples should be better off in this world than he was. He asked them one day, “Shall the servant be above his lord, the disciple above his Master?”