Do I Plan to Forsake it All?

I’m a planner. I plan my day, I plan my week, I plan for ministry. I even enjoy doing a monthly budget plan with my wife.

The fact that I’m such a planner is why I’m so convicted by Jesus’ invitation to “count the cost.”

In Luke 14:25-33, Jesus delivers a difficult teaching to the many who had been following him around. He declares that allegiance to him should far exceed our allegiance to what would normally be considered the most important relationships a person can have: parents, spouse, children, siblings…even our allegiance to our own selves. And if we can’t do that, then we have no business being his disciple.

Jesus then gives us a couple of pictures to illustrate why this is so important: 1) When we engage in a construction project, we figure out how much it’s going to cost so that we can finish it. Otherwise, we’ll have to stop construction mid-project, to our own embarrassment. And 2) When a king knows war is on the horizon, he considers his chances based on his resources compared with the enemy’s greater resources. If the chances of victory are slim, he will try to work out a treaty as soon as possible.

These two pictures carry two themes: planning and surrender. But it is not planning how I typically like to plan. Usually when I plan, I try to order the future so that I come out on top. My plans point to me as the victor. However, the context of Jesus’ illustrations about the builder and the king point to a much different, gospel-oriented and cruciform type of planning. Jesus begins this discourse to his followers—many of whom would no doubt walk away from Jesus after this difficult teaching—by telling them they must be willing to forsake their closest familial relationships and even their own selves if they want to follow him. They must even be willing to face an excruciating death if need be.

And it is only against this backdrop that “counting the cost” makes any sense. Just as to say “yes” to a building project—or any major financial endeavor, for that matter—requires one to say “no” to other things, and even to deny oneself. The second illustration goes even further, as the picture of a king facing a possible aggressor with twice as powerful an army as his is more than just about wisely sizing up a crisis and acting prudently. It is about surrender, and making peace with God on his terms.

Taken together, here is what this passage says about my plans, and perhaps it says the same thing about your plans: We must plan to give it all away in surrender to God. Compared with the treasure of knowing Christ, even our most treasured relationships and our very own lives pale in value and can be enjoyed only under the lordship of Jesus. But when I look into my own heart, I find that there are things I often treasure above Christ: my comfort, my own notoriety, my family, my reputation, my schedule, my intelligence, my own plans, my control…really, in other words, my kingdom.

So the question I ask myself—and I dare you to ask it of yourself as well—is this: Do I dare plan and plot and prepareand save and put aside and strategize and deliberate to give it all away for the pleasure of knowing Christ my savior?