These are very challenging words from the mouth of God's Son, recorded in Luke 14:25-33:
25 Now great multitudes went with Him. And He turned and said to them, 26 “If anyone comes to Me and does not hate his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and his own life also, he cannot be My disciple. 27 And whoever does not bear his cross and come after Me cannot be My disciple. 28 For which of you, intending to build a tower, does not sit down first and count the cost, whether he has enough to finish it— 29 lest, after he has laid the foundation, and is not able to finish, all who see it begin to mock him, 30 saying, ‘This man began to build and was not able to finish’? 31 Or what king, going to make war against another king, does not sit down first and consider whether he is able with ten thousand to meet him who comes against him with twenty thousand? 32 Or else, while the other is still a great way off, he sends a delegation and asks conditions of peace. 33 So likewise, whoever of you does not forsake all that he has cannot be My disciple.
Note that Jesus is not talking about how to advance to a higher level of discipleship. He is not giving tips on growing as disciples, upon improving and maturing. He is talking about an absolute requirement to be a disciple at all. Those who fail this test are not simply those who are inferior disciples, or immature disciples; according to Jesus, they are just not disciples. If Jesus is not supreme above those with the greatest claim upon your love and devotion, be it parents, be it the one to you are united in the marriage union where God puts two together (and let not man part them), be it your own dear offspring: if what they claim from you clashes with what God demands from you (and we are thankful that in the ordinary paths of daily duty, the two usually coincide), then you cannot put any other claim above that of Jesus.
You cannot be his disciples unless you live the crucified life, taking the beams of wood to the place of death so that your own desires for pleasure, for fame, for wealth, for success, for achievement, for pre-eminence, for recognition, for comfort, and whatever else, are put to a brutal and shameful death, and instead Jesus is served. Unless you forsake all that you have, and give it to Jesus, then you cannot be his disciple. You cannot gain your life unless you first give it away.
How quick we are to want to clarify this, and explain what it "really" means - which so often in effect seems to mean turning it on its head, and explaining that Jesus was wrong, and that we can seek and prioritise all of these things. How strong is the desire to domesticate and tame what Jesus has proclaimed, so that following him can be reduced to a nice orderly package, a collection of well-constructed and striking doctrines that we nod our heads to, whilst remembering that there are in fact many ways to have the best of both worlds, to have our cake and eat it after all. How readily, in the service of having orderly churches, orderly programmes, orderly routines that allow Christianity and its outward institutions to flourish peacefully in society, we reduce all that Jesus said with the caveat "but of course, if your pattern of life is something else, then Jesus is full of grace and will understand."
Jesus will understand? Will he? What do we mean by that? Why would we want to find out the answers to those questions anyway? Jesus tells us plainly, in advance, several times that there are many who are going to be surprised to hear the fearful words one day "I never knew you".
The happiest man we know in the Bible after Jesus was the apostle Paul. As he tells us in Philippians, he had learned the secret of contentment in every situation. To him, to rejoice in the Lord was not an idea to be admired, but the reality of his experience. He lived with joyful hope, looking for the coming of his Lord. And he also said, 1 Corinthians 15:31, "I die daily". Those two things aren't contradictions. They're the same thing. The person who dies daily to self, rises also with Christ.
If your Christianity is respectable and safe, a gentle routine, beautiful, elegant ideas and comfortable familiarity, then that's very sad. If you're building a church that looks beautiful to the world, polished music, finely nuanced doctrines, so orderly, but without the daily struggles of crucified people who can say they've gone through and are going through the war with the flesh as they again and again give away their own lives for the sake of Christ, then that's a sorry thing. You need to be converted. Then you can know what Paul meant when he said (Galatians 2:20) "I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me." If you are not yet crucified with Christ, and are not then responding by taking up your cross daily, then you are not yet Jesus' disciple; but if you'll go to Calvary with him, you can be.
If the Western church is full of disciples with Jesus, then why are there such a small proportion of its adherents whose lives resemble what Jesus said was fundamental to even being a disciple at all? Why does "my aim as a Christian is to give my life away, so that others can receive life" characterise us so little? Brothers and sisters, let us not take our standards from what passes as respectable around us. Let us listen to what Jesus actually said, and then do it.