Every facet of my relationship with God starts from two initial truths: my rebellion, and his mercy. It can’t be any other way. God doesn’t owe me anything, and never has. Even the freedom that I misused to rebel was his gift to me; totally unearned and undeserved. How much more, then, was his forgiveness of my rebellion an act of pure mercy! And in this way, I’m no different than anybody else. Paul tells us, “For God has bound everyone over to disobedience so that he may have mercy on them all” (Romans 11:32). And in the context of that mercy, he goes on to write:
Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God – this is your true and proper worship. Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is – his good, pleasing and perfect will. (Romans 12:1-2)
Jesus owed me nothing, but he chose to sacrifice his own life so that I could receive mercy. The life that I have, therefore, rightfully belongs to him – paid for with his own blood (2 Corinthians 5:14-15). The only fitting response by me is to live my life as a sacrifice to him.
Now, it’s one thing to say that I’ll die for Jesus, especially when I’m not immediately faced with any such danger. Peter said he would die for Jesus too, shortly before denying he even knew him. But the call here is not to die for Jesus. Rather, it’s to live in his service. And seriously, if I’m not willing to live my life for Jesus right now, on what basis can I flatter myself that I’d really die for him if someone, someday, put a gun to my head?
But it’s very easy to just tell myself that I’d die for Christ, should the situation ever arise. And then use my imagining of that supreme sacrifice to justify not sacrificing very much of my time or comfort or money today. But that’s not the kind of son God wants me to be. And I can’t blame him; that’s not the kind of child I’d want either! That’s certainly not the kind of child that I’d think was ready to inherit a kingdom. That’s why the knowledge of God’s will, in the last sentence of this passage, comes only as a result of being a living sacrifice. God reveals his will to those who have already committed themselves to obeying it.
My life, therefore, as a child of God, should not look like the rest of the world. There should be a visible difference in the way I live that comes out of having a renewed mind. My behavior, in other words, reflects my attitude and my mindset. Am I living my life as a sacrifice to God, or to myself? Is my life lived, as Paul writes, “in view of God’s mercy”?
And that phrase, “in view of God’s mercy,” doesn’t only refer to my obligation, it’s also my assurance that what God wants from me is not the obedience of a slave, but of a child. He did not save me at such a cost so that he could abuse or hurt me, but so that he could continue to show his goodness to me forever, although that doesn’t mean there won’t be struggles and suffering. Jesus never said following him would be easy, but he did say it would be worth it.
So a command, an obligation, and a promise all come together in this Scripture. To offer my body as a living sacrifice is to live as a child of God.