Deo Gloria
Sermon for September 3, 2023
Pastor Martin Bentz
Text: Matthew 16:21-26
Theme: No Pain, No Gain!
- The things of men: no pain is gain
- The things of God: gain only through pain
“No pain, no gain.” It’s a slogan we heard an awful lot during early football practice. I guess, for good reason. There was plenty of pain. Our muscles hurt so badly at times we could hardly walk. It hurt to sit. It hurt to stand. It hurt to lie down. It was awful. “No pain, no gain,” our coach would bark as we did 14,000 sit-ups and 15 million pushups. O.K., maybe it wasn’t quite that many, but it sure seemed like it. “No pain, no gain,” we heard in the weight room, as we grunted and groaned doing bench press and squats and curls. But you know, it was worth it. In the end all of the pain and sweat and hard work was worth it, especially when we won the state championship in football our senior year. That’s what it takes to be successful in sports. It takes a lot of conditioning, a lot of sweat, a lot of hard work. Just ask someone like Noah Lyles, the guy who won the 100 meters at the recent World Championships in Hungary. He didn’t get to be one of the fastest runners in the world by sitting on the couch and watching ESPN. No, he’s been running and pumping iron and training for years and years and years. He knows the truth of that saying: “No pain, no gain.”
Did you know that same thing applies in the spiritual world: that without pain there is no gain? Being a Christian, being a follower of Jesus Christ is not the equivalent of taking a stroll down easy street. Being a disciple of Christ involves discipline. It involves sacrifice. It involves pain, even as it did for Christ, our Savior. This is the message we hear today in the verses of our text, a sobering reminder from our spiritual coach about the strenuous nature of Christian discipleship: “No pain, no gain.”
It’s certainly not a very popular message—not in 21st century America anyway. The value of sacrifice, the value of dedication and hard work are fading fast in American culture. In fact, more and more it seems like people today will do everything they possibly can to avoid pain. Employers lament the lack of motivation, the lack of a work ethic demonstrated by the people that they hire. So often they don’t want to work, in some cases they don’t even bother to show up for work, and yet they still want to be paid. You can see the same thing in school. Why is it that kids don’t want to do their homework? More often than not it’s not because they aren’t able to do it. They just don’t want to. It’s too much work. And how have schools responded? In far too many cases they have responded by lowering their standards, lowering their expectations. I even heard about one school in Chicago where the teachers have stopped giving homework all together. The kids won’t do it anyway.
We can see this same kind of attitude—avoid the pain, take the easy way out—displayed in our text. In the preceding verses Peter had confessed that Jesus was the Christ, the promised Messiah they had all been waiting for. Starting in v. 21, Jesus began to explain to Peter and the rest of the disciples exactly what that meant, what his mission as the Messiah was, and how he would be carrying it out. He told them that he must go to Jerusalem; that while he was there, he must suffer many things at the hands of the elders, chief priests and teachers of the law; that he must be killed, and on the third day be raised to life. Notice that Jesus doesn’t say he “might” have to do these things, that there was just a “slight chance” these things were going to happen. He says he “must” do them. He has to do these things in order to fulfill his work as their Savior.
And how did Peter respond? He took Jesus aside and rebuked him: “Lord, it’s been a long day. Why don’t you come over here and sit down for a while? Can I get you some water or something to eat? You’re starting to sound a little delirious. I thought I heard you say you planned to go up to Jerusalem and die.”
“Well, yes, Peter. That is what I said.”
“Are you crazy, Lord? We’ve waited all these years for the Messiah to come and now you want to go to Jerusalem and die? Never! This shall never happen to you!” What a sight! Here we have Peter–the disciple Peter– lecturing Jesus, the Son of God, and trying to set him straight on the appropriate way for him to carry out his work.
Peter meant well, of course. He just didn’t understand. He didn’t understand that that was part of God’s plan, his plan for the salvation of the world: that the Messiah was supposed to suffer and die, that he would be pierced for our transgressions, that he would be crushed for our iniquities, that the punishment that would bring us peace would rest on him, that by his wounds we would be healed.(Is 53:5) Peter just didn’t understand that. He had other ideas about the Messiah—what he would be like, what he would do. And besides that, he didn’t want to see Jesus suffer. Peter didn’t want to see Jesus experience pain or death. He loved Jesus. He respected Jesus. He looked up to Jesus as his Lord and Savior. Such things just couldn’t happen, not if he could help it.
Although Peter’s intentions may have been good, we can see from Jesus’ response that Peter’s words of advice were both out of place and downright dangerous. “Out of my sight, Satan!” Jesus replied. “You are a stumbling block to me; you do not have in mind the things of God, but the things of men.” If Jesus had followed Peter’s advice, if he had chosen to avoid the pain and suffering and death that lay ahead of him in Jerusalem, if he had chosen instead to take an easier route, a less painful route, he would have failed. He would have stumbled. He would have been disobedient to the Father. And his mission to rescue a world of lost sinners would have been a bust. There would have been no gain—no forgiveness for our sins, no peace for our souls, no eternal life in heaven. Thankfully Jesus didn’t listen. Thankfully Jesus resisted that temptation. Thankfully Jesus chose to follow the Father’s plan and continue on the road to Jerusalem, where he would suffer and die for your sins and mine. Yes, Jesus chose the pain, so we might have the gain.
So, how about you? Which way are you going to choose: the world’s way where no pain is gain; or God’s way where gain comes through pain? Listen again to our Savior’s words in v. 24: “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.” You see, as I mentioned before, being a disciple of Jesus Christ is not a walk in the park. Many people would like it to be. Many people would like to believe that if they follow Jesus Christ, they won’t have any more problems, that they will be successful, that they will be popular among their friends, that they will enjoy good health and financial security for the rest of the lives; but such is not the case. Being a disciple of Jesus Christ involves sacrifice. It involves pain. Jesus made no bones about it. “If you want to come after me,” he said, “if you want to be my disciple, then the first thing you need to do is deny yourself.”
To deny yourself means you have to swallow your pride. To deny yourself means you have to get rid of your self-centered attitude. It means that you are no longer the most important person in your life. It means that what you want and what you think is not the only thing that matters. To deny yourself means putting God first in your life. It means putting his will ahead of your own. It means that what he wants and what he desires is more important than what you want, what you desire.
Let’s look at a practical example. Let’s say your friends invited you to a party, a party where you know there will be drinking and probably drugs too, and you’re only 17. You know shouldn’t go. You know God wouldn’t want you to go to. But you have the perfect opportunity. You’re planning to stay at a friend’s house next weekend. Your mom and dad will never know. So what do you do? To deny yourself means you set aside what you want and you do what God would have you do.
“Yeah, but my friends will make fun of me if I don’t go. They’re all going. And they’ll tell everyone else at school. I’ll be embarrassed.” Ah, now we’re getting to the second point that Jesus mentioned. Besides denying yourself, following him also means taking up one’s cross. The cross we have to bear as Christians is not simply putting up with something we don’t like. The cross, for example, is not having to clean up your room at home or doing your homework or taking out the garbage or eating broccoli. No, the cross we have to bear as Christians is the rejection, the persecution, the suffering we have to bear for believing in Jesus Christ and living our lives for him. It’s the rejection of our friends when we tell them we’re not going to a party with them because Jesus wouldn’t want us to. It’s the ridicule and scorn we endure from our college professor when we openly confess in his classroom that we believe in the Bible. It’s the razzing and the snide remarks directed at us from our co-workers when we tell them that we disagree with the gay lifestyle because it’s wrong in the eyes of God. To be honest it’s not a lot of fun—the teasing, the ridicule, the rejection. In fact, sometimes it can be downright painful. But this is what our Savior asks us to put up with, the cross he asks us to bear as his followers.
“And follow me,” Jesus said. A better translation of the original language would be “keep on following me.” Following Christ is not something we do only once in our lives and then we’re finished. Likewise following Christ is not something we do only one day a week—say Sunday, for instance—and then forget about him the rest of the week. Following Christ is an ongoing commitment. It’s something we do every day and every week and every month for the rest of our lives. Following Jesus Christ takes dedication. It takes persistence. It takes endurance.
Deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow Christ—being a disciple of Jesus Christ, living as one of his faithful followers is by no means going to painless. It’s going to take some effort on your part. It’s going to take some stress and strain and a certain amount of pain. No doubt about it; but I suppose the ultimate question is “Is it worth it?” Is the gain worth the pain?
Well, let’s take a look at the alternative. Rather than deny yourself, indulge yourself. Indulge yourself in all the pleasures this world has to offer. Rather than take up your cross, avoid it. Hide your faith in Christ. Deny that you’re actually one of his followers. Rather than follow Christ, follow Satan. Or better yet, follow yourself, and let’s see where it leads, where it all ends up. In fact, let’s say you made it big. Let’s say you became as famous as Taylor Swift and as rich as Bill Gates. Let’s say you could have anything you want and do anything you want. Let’s say you had it all. Will it be enough to get you into heaven? Will you be able to trade it all in on Judgment Day for eternal treasure, for eternal life? This is the point of Jesus’ question is v. 26: “What good will it be for a man if he gains the whole world, yet forfeits his soul? Or what can a man give in exchange for his soul?” It’s a penetrating question, isn’t it? What good is it? The truth is it’s no good. It’s no good for a person to gain the whole world and lose his soul. Likewise, what can a person give in exchange for his soul? $5 million? $10 million? $100 million? Truth is there is only one payment that can be given in exchange for a person’s soul: the payment Jesus made on the cross. Any other payment is insufficient, totally inadequate for paying off the debt of your sins and redeeming your soul from death in hell.
So, then, it is worth it—following Christ our Savior, denying ourselves, taking up our cross and following him. In the end it is worth it. Just like in the realm of athletic competition, the eternal gain is worth the pain.
In football we endured the pain and rigorous training in hopes of winning a championship, a temporary prize, which 40 years later very few people even remember. When it comes to following Christ our Savior, we endure the pain and hardship for a far greater prize, an eternal treasure that will never get tarnished or ever be forgotten: the crown of life in heaven. Amen.