Counting the Cost

Too often we have been told that becoming a Christian is as simple as saying a prayer to ask Jesus into our hearts. For me, this happened at the age of 4. Jesus coming into my heart was explained as an unbelievably joyous time that all will be better because He now resides there. Nobody told me that when He "moved in" He was going to completely and utterly change the landscape of not only my heart, but of my entire being. I no longer could be the me I so carefully planned to be. I understand that the Kindergarten "altar call" I heard wouldn't have gone over well if Mrs. Burke had said, "I hope you know your life as you know it is now completely over!"

But in all reality, wasn't it?

Jesus tells us to die to self, carry a cross, sell all we have, and follow Him. As a 4 year old (and honestly, as a 23 year old), that's not in the personal game plan. If I truly let Jesus in (whether that had been in Kindergarten or now in my twenties), my life is completely over.

But for some reason, we aren't told that when we are given the "good news." Evangelists and pastors today tend to be so focused on numbers rather than on true transformation (but that's a topic for later discussion), that we have constantly been told that with Jesus there is joy, hope, and peace in such a dark, hopeless world. Not that I don't agree, because with Him does come the truest form of joy, hope, and peace, but how dare we leave out the true cost of Christianity: transformation. And here in the South is the worst. Never have I met more Christians who love a Jesus that will make them more prosperous, more blessed, and more comfortable. In all honesty, I am unsure of what Jesus they are following.

Transformation is not comfortable. Change is not pleasant. Yet Jesus, the Jesus of the Bible, calls us to change, live a transformational life, and be not of this world. I'm unsure if most Christians have been challenged to count the cost. This Jesus might ask everything of them.

When it comes to "counting the cost," few articulate it better than C.S. Lewis.

Here are a few excerpts from C.S. Lewis in Mere Christianity:

I find a good many people have been bothered by what I said about Our Lord's words, ''Be ye perfect". Some people seem to think this means "Unless you are perfect, I will not help you", and as we cannot be perfect, then, if He meant that, our position is hopeless. But I do not think He did mean that. I think He meant "The only help I will give is help to become perfect. You may want something less: but I will give you nothing less."

If you give Him an inch, He will take an ell. Dozens of people go to Him to be cured of some one particular sin which they are ashamed of or which is obviously spoiling daily life. Well, He will cure it all right: but He will not stop there. That may be all you asked; but if once you call Him in, He will give you the full treatment. That is why He warned people to "count the cost'' before becoming Christians. "Make no mistake," He says, "if you let me in, I will make you perfect. The moment you put yourself in My hands, that is what you are in for. Nothing less, or other, than that. You have free will, and if you choose, you can push Me away. But if you do not push Me away, understand I am going to see this job through."

Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on: you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently he starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of- throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were going to be made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.

The command "Be ye perfect" is not idealistic gas. Nor is it a command to do the impossible. He is going to make us into creatures that can obey that command. He said (in the Bible) that we were 'gods' and He is going to make good His words. If we let Him- for we can prevent Him, if we choose- He will make the feeblest and filthiest of us into a god or goddess, a dazzling, radiant, immortal creature, pulsating all through with such energy and joy and wisdom and love as we cannot now imagine, a bright stainless mirror which reflects back to God perfectly (though, of course, on a smaller scale) His own boundless power and delight and goodness. The process will be long and in parts very painful, but that is what we are in for. Nothing less. He meant what He said.


Some of us may have been fed the idea that once a Christian, life gets easy. Or once a Christian, everything straightens out. We could sit together for days telling stories of how that is absolutely not true. Once a Christian, though, something very specific takes place: God intends to transform us. Asking Jesus into our heart might not be as Sunday-school fun as we so often paint it out to be. Jesus comes in to shake our foundation, knock walls down, and completely rebuild us. He says "be perfect" and then shows us how. He intends to change us, to make us able to be perfect.

Christianity is not always as feel-good as many sugar coat it to be: but oh, it is worth it. Living a Christian life is as simple as this: allowing Christ into our lives to rip apart and break down all that we have built ourselves to be, and then rebuild us in His likeness.

Painful? Definitely.
Completely and utterly life-changing? You bet.
Worth it? Absolutely.

So take a second and count the cost.
Because He intends to make you perfect.

Matthew 5:48
"Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect."