Why does God expect us to die for his word rather than deny him?
Last month around this time was the International Day for the Persecuted Church. One of my first posts was on that very topic. My pastor preached in church that morning using a book called The Insanity of God. It was full of stories about people who, under the threat of persecution and death, did absolutely insane things, completely disregarding their own lives so that the word of God could reach people.
Jesus commands of us a special kind of uncompromising, immovable loyalty. He told his followers to expect to be persecuted. He warned about slander and ostracism and imprisonments and beatings and killings. And he was very emphatic that his people, from the original apostles all the way down to us, need to remain faithful to him no matter what, even if it is at the cost of our lives.
The level of loyalty Jesus expects of us is extremely high. It’s not just loyalty in action, but it’s loyalty in word and even in heart. It’s loyalty to the extent of not even giving the slightest appearance of disloyalty. That transcends virtually all kinds of devotion. Even, for example, a soldier or agent of a certain station — people whom we often see as the epitome of uncompromising, undying loyalty — is allowed to pretend to betray his country in order to ultimately advance his country’s cause.
Not so with Jesus. He was very clear: “Whoever denies me before men, I will also deny before my Father who is in heaven” (Matthew 10:33). We can deny Jesus in a lot of different ways. We can deny him by our actions if we claim to follow him but consistently live a life contrary to his teaching. We can deny him by our words if we verbally renounce him. We can deny him in our hearts if we say and do all the right things but are just faking it. Jesus doesn’t make an exception for one kind or the other. No pretension, no fakeness.
That’s the standard Christians have held themselves to throughout history, and it’s pretty well-known. Even from the earliest times of persecution, people have known this. The Romans, when they persecuted Christians, would offer them an opportunity to renounce Jesus and sacrifice to the Roman deities. If they did, they were immediately released. All the way down to modern regimes, it’s been very similar. All the torture Christians have undergone, all the psychological warfare, the inhumanity, has all been with one goal: to get them to deny Christ. From the Romans offering the opportunity to sacrifice to the Roman gods, to the ISIS terrorists offering the opportunity to recite the shahada, that’s the goal.
And that’s not only for Christians in persecuted countries. When we’re afflicted with trials of our own, trials and hardships and tragedies that make us question whether God is really there or really cares about us, that’s the enemy’s goal, to get us to be angry at God and ultimately reject him. If a Christian denies Christ, then the enemy has won and the Christian has fallen away. We serve a forgiving God, so it’s not an irredeemable defeat if we repent (although some people never get the chance), but great damage has been done. It’s true whether we’re enduring inhuman torture, seemingly insurmountable difficulties, or just feel embarrassed in front of our friends.
So why is this standard of loyalty and faithfulness so high? I mean, we can understand why such a denial might be somewhat cowardly or selfish. I mean, Jesus died for us; isn’t it the least we could do to be willing to suffer and/or die for him? But then again, God is pretty magnanimous; in fact, he’s the epitome of magnanimity. And if I died for someone, and later they found themselves in a position where they had to verbally repudiate any association with me or they would be killed, I sure hope they would do so! And God is infinitely more magnanimous than me. So why does he command such unyielding loyalty?
I think it’s because he knows what’s at stake far better than we do. I often frequent a social media question-and-answer site called Quora. Its membership is heavily atheist and antitheist, so there is quite a bit of anti-religious rhetoric, but also some great questions from seekers. I came across one like this, which read: “Does it say in the Bible anywhere that God would forgive you if you denied him to stay alive? Does he expect you to die for his word?”
Here was my response. Because by the bizarre rules of modern writing self-plagiarism is a thing, I’ll block-quote the answer I gave:
If you’re a Christian, you have the words of eternal life. You have the message that can lead people to eternal life. But for anyone to believe that message, they need to believe you. Do you really believe Jesus died for your sins? So why wouldn’t you be willing to die for him? Do you really love him more than anything? If you deny him, how is that not loving yourself more than him? People who hear that message of eternal life, and then see you completely turn your back on the God you claim saved you, are almost certainly going to reject that message. Also, other believers will see your example and be tempted to fall away themselves. Perhaps if you had endured and held fast to Christ, they would see your sincerity and it would make them wonder, and it might lead them on their own spiritual journey that leads them to Christ.
So your endurance could mean the difference between someone, and probably many people, having eternal life or eternal damnation. Your denial might be what leads someone to reject Christ, maybe even several people. So now you haven’t just turned your back on Jesus, but you’ve also saved your own life at the expense of someone else’s. This is not unlike throwing someone else in front of a bullet to save yourself. That’s not what someone who really believes they’re going to heaven and that God will look out for those you leave behind does. Thus, denying Christ to save your life shows that you don’t really believe, not completely. And Christ expects us to fully trust in him.
So, we are carriers of the message of eternal life, and the way we carry that message — and if we continue to carry it in the worst of circumstances — may be the key factor in whether someone accepts that message. It isn’t just about our lives, but other people’s lives, even the lives of people we barely know. Would you risk sacrificing the potential salvation of others to make your life easier, or to save yourself? Or would you sacrifice your life, or endure hardships, so that others might be saved? That’s the question when it comes to enduring trials faithfully. That’s why Jesus holds up such a high standard. He understands what’s at stake. Do we?
