The Gospel of Christ
When you know the Creator, you understand the creation
The End of Self and the Beginning of Salvation
I remember taking my daughter to play tennis when she was very young. She was so little that she couldn’t return the ball over the net. She kept trying, but every swing sent the ball far to the left or right—often landing in other people’s courts—or she would miss it entirely. After a while, I began to feel frustrated, having to chase her wayward shots across the courts.
But she was determined to keep playing, so we kept going. Just when I was about to call it a day, I served a ball to her, and she swung her racket with perfect timing. The ball sailed right past me, and she jumped up in triumph, shouting, “I’m better than Dad now!”
In that moment, I thought it was adorable and funny—but it also made me pause and reflect: Is this how we sometimes appear to God? We achieve a small success and immediately celebrate as if we are impressive—or even “better than” Him. As we grow older, each success can pile up on the mantel of our hearts, convincing us of our own goodness while quietly blinding us to the truth of our need for God.
We gain a bit of knowledge and think we know it all. We taste a little success and assume we can do it all. We do a few good deeds and imagine ourselves to be good people. Just like my daughter, we can become prideful—children who think the world revolves around us, self-centered, and enamored with our own importance.
But if we are truly honest with ourselves, standing in the presence of God, we see how little we truly know—and how far we fall short. We cannot compare to His wisdom or His goodness. Within each of us, there is a constant battle: part of us feels we know it all, while another part trembles, aware of our deep ignorance. We may wear the mask of someone who has all the answers, yet inside we fear being exposed as frauds.
The truth, as God sees it, is undeniable: we are sinful people, with hearts that are dead, cancerous, and rebellious. Even our best efforts are like filthy rags compared to His holiness (Isaiah 64:6). We are not good enough. We are not wise enough. Deep in our souls, we know it.
And yet there remains that prideful, childish part of us—the part that refuses to submit, that refuses to admit it is not good at its core. Until we realize this, there is no salvation for us. What need would we have for a Savior if we were truly good, capable of all things, or able to be God ourselves? Knowing that we cannot be good on our own is how we begin to understand the Gospel.
The Gospel Is About Christ, Not Ourselves
The Gospel is not about us; it is about Jesus Christ. Our role is that of the lost, rebellious, and sinful child—one who, through ignorance and pride, brought sin and death into the world, ultimately costing the life of God’s Son. This all stems from the self within us—the part that thinks it knows everything, the part that believes it does not need God or a Savior.
But the Gospel is about Christ: the One who loves us, who came to forgive us, who died for us, so that we might be freed from the foolish self we cling to and restored to life in Him. “For while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8).
Dying to Self and Living in Christ
There are consequences for our childishness—consequences we have sown and now reap here on this earth. The Gospel, however, is not about living our best life now; it is about living our truest life in Him. It is about putting to death that childish part of us that clings to pride, selfishness, and the fleeting things of this world. “If anyone would come after Me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow Me” (Luke 9:23).
Search the Scriptures, and you will find nothing that glorifies the self—only commands to deny it, crucify it, and put it to death. Every page points to Christ, for He is what it’s all about. He is the cure for our cancer, the remedy for our death, and the only source of true life.
Does this mean we have no value apart from God? Indeed, apart from the life we gain in Jesus, we have none. Any value we think we possess outside of Him exists only in the eyes of the world—and that is not value at all, but death disguised as life.
There is nothing within us, nor anything outside of us, that can bring true life apart from Him. To believe otherwise is like a branch that cuts itself off from the vine, trying to sustain itself by drawing from things that cannot give life. “I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in Me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from Me you can do nothing” (John 15:5).
Enduring in Faith
We will suffer for our newfound faith. Persecution and trials are a reality on this side of Heaven. The question is not whether we will struggle, but where we will invest our struggle: will we fight for ourselves, clinging to what is temporary and fleeting, or will we fight to remain in Christ, embracing what is eternal and everlasting?
The choice becomes a battle between clinging to the old self, which leads to death, or surrendering to Christ, which leads to true life—life that endures forever. “For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for Me will find it” (Matthew 16:25).
Cling to Christ, the True Vine
And so the Gospel calls us not to celebrate ourselves, not to cling to our fleeting successes or false accomplishments, but to lay down the self that deceives and enslaves us. It calls us to cling to Christ—the true Vine, the source of life, the One who gives fruitfulness, purpose, and eternal joy.
He did not come for the proud, the self-sufficient, or the wise in their own eyes. He came for the lost, the broken, the child who cannot save itself. “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18).
He came to forgive, to restore, and to make all things new. Today, we are invited to let go of our false strength, our hollow victories, and our self-centered pursuits, and to find life—not in what we can do—but in what He has done. In Jesus Christ, the dead are made alive, the lost are found, and the vine flows with a life that never withers. Cling to Him, and you will bear fruit that lasts—not for a day, not for a season, but forever.
