All this is included in these few simple words, "let him deny himself." Is there still a fixed purpose to follow Jesus without regard to what it may cost us, or where the keen edge of separation may cut in?
The Battle of the Forks.
Here is a forking of the road. I bring this whole company up to this dividing, and therefore deciding, point. Let each choose his own road deliberately, prayerfully, with open eyes. This road to the left has as its law, yielding to self; saying "yes" to the desires and demands of self; with some modifications possibly, here and there, for I am talking to professing christian people. Yes to Jesus sometimes, but at other times, when it suits circumstances and inclinations better to do otherwise—well, a pushing of the troublesome question aside. And that means a decided yes to self, with as positive a negative to Jesus' desires implied thereby. That is the left-hand fork.
This right-hand road knows only one law to which exception is never made, namely: Yes to Jesus, everywhere, always, regardless of consequences, though it may entail loss of friendships, or money, or position, or social standing, or personal preference, or radical change of plans, or, what not.
Judas assented to the cravings of his ambitious self and said "no" to his Master, thinking possibly, with his worldly shrewdness, thereby to force Jesus to assert His power. He little knew what a time of crisis it was, and what terrific results would follow.
Peter stood on the side of his cowardly, shrinking self in the court-yard that dark night, and against his Master. And though with matchless love he was forgiven, he never forgave himself, nor was able to get that night's doings out of his memory. Judas and Peter were brothers in action that night, and there are evidences that many other disciples are standing over in the same group. Are you? Which road do you choose to-night: this—to the left? Or, this—to the right?
I knew a young man who was deeply attached to an admirable young woman, both refined christian persons, much above the average in native ability, and in culture. He made known to her his feelings. But as many a woman who does not trust her best Friend in such matters is apt to do she held him off, testing him repeatedly, to find out just how real his attachment was. Finally revealing indirectly her own feeling she still withheld the consent he pleaded for, until he would yield acquiescence in a certain plan of hers for him. The plan, proper enough in itself, was an ambitious one, and tended decidedly toward swinging him away from the high, tenderly spiritual ideals that had swayed his life in college and afterwards, though he probably was not clearly conscious of this tendency. The only safe thing to do under such strong circumstances was to take time, aside, alone, for calm, poised, thought and prayer, to learn if her plan was also the Master's plan for him. But the personal element proved too strong for such deliberation. The possibility of losing her swung him off of his feet. It was no longer a question between her plan and the Master's plan. The latter dropped out of view, probably half-unconsciously because hurriedly. He must have her, he thought. That rose before his eyes above all else. And so the decision was made. With what result? He is to-day prominent in christian service, an earnest speaker, a tireless worker, with a most winsome personality. But his inner spiritual life has perceptibly dwarfed. His ideals, still high and noble, are distinctly lower than in his earlier life. Intellectual ideals, admirable in themselves, but belonging in second place in a christian life, now command the field. His conceptions and understanding of spiritual truth have undergone a decided change.
The proposal of the self-life came in very fascinating guise to him. He hastily said "yes" to it: that meant as decided a refusal of Another's plan for him, which had once been clearly recognized, and accepted, but was now set aside, be it sadly said, as he swung quickly off to the left fork of the road.
There is an incident told of a European pastor, an earnest, eloquent man. The realization came in upon him that he had not been fully following the Master. In much of his life self was still ruling. He came to this forking of the road, and the battle was a fierce one, for self dies hard. But finally "by the Spirit," he got the victory, as every one may, and calmly stepped off to the right. He has vividly described that battle of the forks in language, the accuracy of which will be recognized by others who have been in action on that field.
"Oh, the bitter shame and sorrow,
That a time could ever be
When I let the Saviour's pity
Plead in vain, and proudly answered:
'All of self, and none of Thee.'