In Luke 14, Jesus is amassing great multitudes who are traveling with Him. Christ, realizing that the vast majority of the supposed “followers” were unqualified and ill-prepared, turns to them to explain that most of their lifestyles were incompatible with following Him. He explains that the cost required to go where he was leading them was great, far greater than many were willing to pay. Jesus will take you on the journey of a lifetime if you will let Him, but it will cost you. Much of what you are tempted to hold onto in a life of following Jesus is going to have to go. For years this reality has been illustrated in many different ways. Below is my attempt to do so.
The glow of the alarm clock read 4:57. Three more minutes until the alarm would sound, but I didn’t need any alarms this morning. Like a kid on Christmas morning, I had been awake for hours waiting for an appropriate hour to get out of bed. I had been waiting for this day for years. I was finally going to meet Chris Carson (Kit) and begin our accent up Mount Telos. I had been watching his videos for years and after two years on a waiting list, my turn to join his troupe of five other climbers had come. I glanced to the corner of my room and saw the heap of supplies all strapped tightly to my pack. I wasn’t sure it would fit in the trunk of my car but for the life of me, I couldn’t think of anything I could bear to leave behind, after all, climbing Mt. Telos was a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
I turned the alarm off at first blare, jumped out of bed, and begin getting ready. Six minutes later I was ready to go, hefting my massive pack onto my shoulders. I sure hoped Kit would be impressed with all my new gear. It had cost quite a bit, but I wanted to ensure that there was nothing that I was going to regret having left behind. I wanted to be ready. I ran out the door banging my tent pole on the top of my door as my collapsible camp dishes knocked over my coffee mug sitting on the counter.
My bag didn’t quite fit in the trunk, but no matter I got it in the back seat and on the second good shove was able to get the door to click shut. I turned my key and looked down at the clock, 5:11. I was going to be way too early, but oh well I guess that just mean more time to spend with Kit before we started our climb. The closer I got the more the peak towered above me. Pictures didn’t even begin to compare. As I pulled up to the shack that functioned as our point of departure, I realized I was alone. Kit was nowhere in sight. I pried my bag from the back and prepared to make a good first impression.
After what felt like hours, my four climbing companions arrived. I noticed smugly that none of their packs were even close to the size of mine. They must have forgotten all the important stuff. Well, I certainly wouldn’t be sharing. I had everything that I needed. Kit pulled up and jumped out of his car. As he approached, I noticed him eyeing all of us up. I thought I caught a snicker forming.
“All right,” he said, “start by dumping all your stuff out so I can get a look at your gear. I need to know you are ready and bringing what you need to make it to the end” I smiled knowing that out of the five of us I certainly had what it took.
We emptied our bags as he started his inspection at the opposite end of the line where a meager pile of supplies laid. Kit dug through slowly and silently eyeing each item and begin to form two piles. I figured some gear must not have met his required standards. He repeated the process without words all down the line and then stood before me. I couldn’t help but grin, I bet I had some stuff that even the great mountain man Kit had never seen. He had to be impressed, I had even managed to squeeze in my collapsible camp oven to make a proper celebratory dinner at the peak. I bet no one had ever brought a solar-powered laptop before, but if I was going to climb Mt. Telos I was going to be sure the whole world knew about it.
His eyes went back and forth between me and my impressive mound of supplies with no words. Finally, a grin broke across his face as he said, “Son, is this some kind of joke.”
“No sir” I replied. “I come prepared, you just wait and see”
I could tell he was taken aback by my uncommon forethought. He dug through my pile and to my delight I was the only person who had only one pile in front of them.
“Okay, the pile on your left is what you are taking, the pile on the right you can leave behind. And you,” he pointed his finger at me, “I don’t know what on earth you were thinking, but you can’t take any of that crap you with. You won’t make it 50 feet without collapsing.”
Was this some sort of joke? I had been planning this for years. How could I climb the mountain without my canon, or my go pro, or my picnic blanket, and what about my 3,000-foot rope. Surely, he was mistaken. I waited for the punchline but after a few moments, it was clear none was coming. My heart dropped. How could I have been so mistaken? How could I have been thinking wrong for so long? Here I had thought there was no climber better in all the world than Kit Carson, but it turned out he was nothing but a fraud. He had no idea what he was doing. How could I have ever trusted him?
He looked at me and said, “If you want to make it up this mountain, you’ll do exactly what I say. I know what I am doing. No one has ever done this on their own. You need to leave all that behind and I’ll give you my backup gear to use. You can leave all your toys here in my shack. Reaching the end requires certain things, and you’ll have to leave everything else behind.”
I just shook my head. “Fine then,” he said, “but you aren’t going to come with me if you want to try and climb this mountain your own way with all of that junk, you’ll do it alone.”
He was right. He didn’t own this mountain. I would just go on my own. I had what I needed. Kit could do things his way and I would do them mine. The rest would depart at first light the following day. But there were still a couple hours of daytime. After the way I had been treated, I was going to set out on my own. I didn’t want to lay eyes on Kit ever again. With indignation, I gritted my teeth and begin to carefully repack the contents that Kit had so foolishly dismissed.
I hoisted my pack on my back and left quickly. I was going to show him. After a few steps, I slowed my pace. It was a long journey after all. As the sun sank, I continued on. Growing weary but still determined. As the base camp disappeared from view, I let out a sigh of relief. I could finally lighten my pack. Not much, and I didn’t need to, but I might as well be comfortable as I go. I removed half my rope, and my collapsible oven, I wouldn’t need an oven if I was cooking just for myself anyways, and stowed it behind a tree hiding it from sight so that Kit wouldn’t think he was right.
As time stretched on, my legs grew weaker. My arms ached. Every step seemed like it would be my last. My knuckles glowed white as I gripped my pack. I noticed many of the things I had strapped on seemed to have fallen away as I had gone. The path too narrow to allow the width of my belongings to traverse. I remembered Kit’s words, but what remained of my pack was too precious to let go. I marched on.
Hours went by, perhaps days, and I had lost any understanding of time. The path continued to narrow and my belongings had been stripped back to just a few. I took one more step and was tugged to a stop. Try what I may, no amount of twisting and turning would let me continue. Not with the shreds of my pack still firmly strapped to my back. If I was going to continue on. I was going to have to let it go.
Dismay filled me. I had worked so hard and come such a long way, but the cost of moving forward seemed too much to bear. One more step meant leaving everything behind. It meant admitting my failure in humiliation. I had worked too hard and too long to let go now. My fingers were wrapped so tightly around the straps that it seemed impossible to pry them away. Yet to move forward would require just that. If I was going to get where I was supposed to be, I needed to say goodbye to that which seemed impossible to relinquish. What was I going to do? The cost seemed impossible to pay.
Now you are left with a question, “will you reach the top?” Jesus will take you on the adventure of a lifetime, but it’s going to be costly. There are things currently in your life, relationships, character traits, long-held beliefs, that your fingers are wrapped around in refusal to let go. You can cling to those things if you want to. But remember if you do, wherever you’re going, you just might be going alone.