Does Christianity actually cost anything anymore? Or have we redefined following Christ into something that demands belief but never surrender? If we’re honest, modern Christianity in the West costs very little. It costs a Sunday morning when it’s convenient. It costs a few dollars when we feel generous. It costs a post, a like, maybe even a theological opinion. But biblically speaking, Christianity has always cost something. And at the center of that cost is sacrifice. What Sacrifice Actually Is In modern language, sacrifice usually m eans giving up something valuable for something else. Skipping comfort. Giving money. Rearranging time. But in Scripture, sacrifice was not symbolic sentiment. It was blood. The Hebrew and Greek understanding of sacrifice referred to the slaughter of an animal — a victim offered so that something else could live. It was costly. It was visible. It was irreversible. Then Jesus entered history. When we say Christ paid the ultimate sacrifice, we are not being poetic. We are making a theological claim. Hebrews 10:10–14 (NASB) makes it clear that His death was the final atoning sacrifice. No more bulls. No more goats. No more blood offerings for sin. The cross was sufficient. But here’s where we’ve subtly drifted: The end of blood sacrifice was not the end of sacrifice. It was the beginning of a different kind. Living Sacrifices, Not Dead Religion Paul writes in Romans 12:1 (NASB): “Therefore I urge you, brethren, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies a living and holy sacrifice, acceptable to God, which is your spiritual service of worship.” Notice the shift. Not attend. Not agree. Not affiliate. Present your bodies. That language is total. It’s embodied. It’s personal. It’s daily. A living sacrifice climbs onto the altar willingly. And because it’s living, it has the ability to crawl back off. Which means sacrifice in the New Testament isn’t a one-time emotional moment. It’s continual surrender. And that’s where the cost shows up. We’ve Traded Surrender for Strategy If we’re not careful, we begin measuring Christianity by what it gives us instead of what it calls us to give. How does this grow my platform? How does this increase my influence? How does this improve my comfort? How does this protect my reputation? We live in a culture of gain. Christianity, however, is rooted in loss — the right kind of loss. John 15:13 (NASB) says: “Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends.” Love is measured by what you are willing to lay down. Not optimize. Not curate. Not protect. Lay down. That’s sacrifice. The First Thing That Usually Has to Die: Reputation For many believers, the first real cost is reputation. If you speak clearly about sin, repentance, and Christ as the only way (John 14:6, NASB), it will cost you something socially. If you refuse to bend Scripture to cultural trends, it may cost you approval. If you prioritize obedience over optics, it may cost you opportunity. The question becomes: are we more concerned with being received, or being faithful? If the power truly belongs to the Holy Spirit — and it does — then our job is not to protect our image. It is to present Christ clearly and let Him draw people. Reputation is often the first sacrifice. Time, Money, and Submission We have minimized sacrifice down to attendance. And even that has become negotiable. But sacrifice shows up in very tangible ways: Giving your time — something you can never get back. Giving your finances — relinquishing control. Submitting to a local body and shepherd — surrendering autonomy. That word, submit, feels offensive in a culture obsessed with independence. But Christianity has never been about radical self-rule. It has always been about joyful surrender to Christ and His design for the body. Sacrifice is not gloomy obligation. It is joyful offering. When you give God your first and your best, you are declaring that He is worth more than what you are surrendering. That is worship. The Misconception: “It’s Not Necessary” Most Christians don’t outright reject sacrifice. They just quietly assume it’s optional. We believe Jesus died for us. We believe grace covers us. And slowly, we begin to treat comfort as the goal. But grace does not eliminate sacrifice. It empowers it. Philippians 3:8 (NASB): “I count all things to be loss in view of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.” When Christ becomes the surpassing value, sacrifice stops feeling like deprivation and starts feeling like alignment. You are not losing something ultimate. You are gaining Someone greater. So — Does It Cost Anything? Jesus was clear in Luke 9:23 (NASB): “If anyone wishes to come after Me, he must deny himself, and take up his cross daily and follow Me.” Deny himself. Daily. That is not comfortable language. It is costly language. Christianity costs your self-rule. It costs your priorities. It costs your reputation. It costs your autonomy. It costs your comfort. But what it gives in return is Christ Himself. And if He is truly who we claim He is, then no sacrifice is ultimately loss. So maybe the better question isn’t, “Does Christianity cost anything?” Maybe the question is: Are we actually following the version that does?
Ephesians reveals the church as Christ’s frontline force in cosmic warfare. Discover how spiritual gifts function as weapons in the battle for God’s kingdom.
Overall violence and mass killings are down in 2025, but politically motivated attacks are sharply rising—see what the numbers reveal about U.S. trends.
Does Christianity actually cost anything anymore? Or have we redefined following Christ into something that demands belief but never surrender? If we’re honest, modern Christianity in the West costs very little. It costs a Sunday morning when it’s convenient. It costs a few dollars when we feel generous. It costs a post, a like, maybe even a theological opinion. But biblically speaking, Christianity has always cost something. And at the center of that cost is sacrifice. What Sacrifice Actually Is In modern language, sacrifice usually m eans giving up something valuable for something else. Skipping comfort. Giving money. Rearranging time. But in Scripture, sacrifice was not symbolic sentiment. It was blood. The Hebrew and Greek understanding of sacrifice referred to the slaughter of an animal — a victim offered so that something else could live. It was costly. It was visible. It was irreversible. Then Jesus entered history. When we say Christ paid the ultimate sacrifice, we are not being poetic. We are making a theological claim. Hebrews 10:10–14 (NASB) makes it clear that His death was the final atoning sacrifice. No more bulls. No more goats. No more blood offerings for sin. The cross was sufficient. But here’s where we’ve subtly drifted: The end of blood sacrifice was not the end of sacrifice. It was the beginning of a different kind. Living Sacrifices, Not Dead Religion Paul writes in Romans 12:1 (NASB): “Therefore I urge you, brethren, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies a living and holy sacrifice, acceptable to God, which is your spiritual service of worship.” Notice the shift. Not attend. Not agree. Not affiliate. Present your bodies. That language is total. It’s embodied. It’s personal. It’s daily. A living sacrifice climbs onto the altar willingly. And because it’s living, it has the ability to crawl back off. Which means sacrifice in the New Testament isn’t a one-time emotional moment. It’s continual surrender. And that’s where the cost shows up. We’ve Traded Surrender for Strategy If we’re not careful, we begin measuring Christianity by what it gives us instead of what it calls us to give. How does this grow my platform? How does this increase my influence? How does this improve my comfort? How does this protect my reputation? We live in a culture of gain. Christianity, however, is rooted in loss — the right kind of loss. John 15:13 (NASB) says: “Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends.” Love is measured by what you are willing to lay down. Not optimize. Not curate. Not protect. Lay down. That’s sacrifice. The First Thing That Usually Has to Die: Reputation For many believers, the first real cost is reputation. If you speak clearly about sin, repentance, and Christ as the only way (John 14:6, NASB), it will cost you something socially. If you refuse to bend Scripture to cultural trends, it may cost you approval. If you prioritize obedience over optics, it may cost you opportunity. The question becomes: are we more concerned with being received, or being faithful? If the power truly belongs to the Holy Spirit — and it does — then our job is not to protect our image. It is to present Christ clearly and let Him draw people. Reputation is often the first sacrifice. Time, Money, and Submission We have minimized sacrifice down to attendance. And even that has become negotiable. But sacrifice shows up in very tangible ways: Giving your time — something you can never get back. Giving your finances — relinquishing control. Submitting to a local body and shepherd — surrendering autonomy. That word, submit, feels offensive in a culture obsessed with independence. But Christianity has never been about radical self-rule. It has always been about joyful surrender to Christ and His design for the body. Sacrifice is not gloomy obligation. It is joyful offering. When you give God your first and your best, you are declaring that He is worth more than what you are surrendering. That is worship. The Misconception: “It’s Not Necessary” Most Christians don’t outright reject sacrifice. They just quietly assume it’s optional. We believe Jesus died for us. We believe grace covers us. And slowly, we begin to treat comfort as the goal. But grace does not eliminate sacrifice. It empowers it. Philippians 3:8 (NASB): “I count all things to be loss in view of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.” When Christ becomes the surpassing value, sacrifice stops feeling like deprivation and starts feeling like alignment. You are not losing something ultimate. You are gaining Someone greater. So — Does It Cost Anything? Jesus was clear in Luke 9:23 (NASB): “If anyone wishes to come after Me, he must deny himself, and take up his cross daily and follow Me.” Deny himself. Daily. That is not comfortable language. It is costly language. Christianity costs your self-rule. It costs your priorities. It costs your reputation. It costs your autonomy. It costs your comfort. But what it gives in return is Christ Himself. And if He is truly who we claim He is, then no sacrifice is ultimately loss. So maybe the better question isn’t, “Does Christianity cost anything?” Maybe the question is: Are we actually following the version that does?
Ephesians reveals the church as Christ’s frontline force in cosmic warfare. Discover how spiritual gifts function as weapons in the battle for God’s kingdom.
Overall violence and mass killings are down in 2025, but politically motivated attacks are sharply rising—see what the numbers reveal about U.S. trends.
