There are few statements of Jesus that have been more misunderstood than, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.” Over the centuries, these words have often been interpreted as a call to self-denial, self-loathing, or enduring life’s hardships with quiet resignation. Yet that may not have been what the people standing in front of Jesus heard.
To understand his words, let’s step back into first-century Judea, a land occupied by Rome where crucifixions were not theological symbols but public warnings. Crosses lined the roads as grim reminders of what happened to anyone who challenged the empire. When Jesus spoke about taking up a cross, no one thought of churches, stained glass, or jewelry around someone’s neck. They thought of condemned men carrying the crossbeam to their execution.
Just as important is what Jesus meant when he said, “deny yourself.” The Greek word doesn’t suggest hating yourself, suppressing your personality, or pretending your needs don’t exist. It literally means to renounce or disown. It’s the same word used later when Peter “denies” Jesus. Peter didn’t stop existing; he simply disowned his association with Jesus.
Jesus is inviting us to do something remarkably similar—not to reject ourselves, but to renounce the part of ourselves that insists on being in control. The fearful, defensive self. The ego organized around survival, reputation, certainty, and self-preservation.
Stay with me here…
The issue isn’t our personality. It’s our allegiance.
Who/what is guiding our life? Fear or trust? Control or surrender? The endless need to protect ourself, or the willingness to be transformed by something greater?
This becomes even clearer when we consider the conversation that prompted these words. Peter has just declared Jesus to be the long-awaited Messiah. Moments later, Jesus explains that his path will lead through suffering rather than political conquest. Peter immediately objects. In essence, he says, “That’s not how this story is supposed to go.”
Jesus’ response is telling. Peter is thinking according to human expectations—power, victory, security, and control. Jesus is revealing an entirely different way of living. Only then does he turn to the crowd and say, “If anyone wants to come after me…”
In other words, if you want to walk this path with me, you must be willing to let go of the same illusions of control.
The invitation is not to become less of who we are. It is to become free from the version of ourself that has been shaped primarily by fear.
This resonates deeply with what is now understand about human development. Every one of us constructs a survival self. It begins in childhood as a necessary adaptation to life’s circumstances. We learn how to protect ourselves, seek approval, avoid rejection, and maintain a sense of safety. Those patterns often serve us well early in life, but eventually they become the very barriers that prevent later growth.
Spiritual awakening is not the destruction of the self. It is seeing that the survival self is no longer the one qualified to lead.
That is why surrender feels so difficult. It asks us to release what has kept us safe in exchange for something we cannot yet fully see. It is, as I’ve written before, a leap of faith during our moments of greatest vulnerability. Everything in us wants to tighten our grip, while wisdom quietly invites us to let go.
The cross, then, becomes more than a symbol of suffering. It becomes the willingness to let the old identity die so that something more authentic can emerge. Not because suffering is inherently good, but because transformation always requires the release of what no longer serves life.
Following Jesus is not about agreeing with a set of doctrines. The Greek word simply means to keep walking behind him, like an apprentice following a master. The emphasis is not belief alone, but participation. Learning by living. Being transformed by walking the path.
Most likely that is what those first listeners heard more clearly than we often do today.
“If you choose this way of life, be prepared to let go of everything that fear tells you is essential. Your status. Your certainty. Your need to control outcomes. Even your reputation, if necessary. Walk this path anyway.”
Not a call to self-rejection, but a call to self-transformation.
The paradox is that in denying the false self (self construct), we do not become less ourselves—we become more fully who we were created to be. The ego loosens its grip, not because it is evil, but because it has completed its purpose. It got us here. It simply cannot take us where we are being invited to go.
Entertain that as what Jesus meant all along. The journey is not about losing yourself. It is about surrendering the self that lives in fear so that the self rooted in love can finally come alive.
Thoughts For Thinkers 