I started playing guitar when I was 16. I was into a lot of classic rock and heavy metal around that time, and one of my favorite bands was Metallica. There was a show on VH1 called "Behind the Music" - you know, back when VH1 and MTV actually showed music-related things occasionally - which documented a band's story, like how they all met, how they got started, how they became famous, and so on. Like most teenagers with dreams of stardom, I drank that stuff up. "That could be me one day," I thought.

I haven't seen their "Behind the Music" in almost ten years, but I remember one part of it after all this time. Singer James Hetfield and drummer Lars Ulrich were talking about the band's first few years. They had given up everything to move to New York and record an album. They were living the dream, putting everything on the line in the hopes of making it big, and they were suffering for it. Ulrich recalled that one of their most common meals was "baloney on hand" - they were so poor they couldn't always afford bread. Hetfield added that he was a fan of "wish sandwiches," where you have two pieces of bread and wish you had something to put between them.

It made me wonder why they were willing to give up so much in pursuit of music, and why Christians on the whole seem quite reluctant to sacrifice anything at all for faith.

I sympathize with the guys from Metallica, because God shunted me to Florida in August of 2009. I chose to move here because I believed in the vision God had put in front of me, a vision of productive ministry and fruitful relationships. He provided a place to live, and a job, albeit part-time at minimum wage. I lost five pounds or so during the first few months I was here simply because I couldn't afford to buy enough food. My girlfriend's family was - still is - feeding me dinner every night that I don't work, and if they hadn't, I don't even know what I'd be doing.

People who hear that tend to be aghast. I, for my part, don't think I deserve any credit for getting through it; it's not as if I knew in advance that this was coming and heroically chose to endure it. I was under the impression that God was going to provide, that he would give me financial security, or if not that, then at least enough to eat. It seemed really strange to me, and has seemed really strange to everyone who has heard this side of the story, that God would do something so extreme, would require or even allow that kind of sacrifice. I mean, for all our talk of "taking up our cross" and following Jesus, all our pretty words about being willing to give up everything for God, we almost never find ourselves in the position where we actually want to, or have to, give up anything that's a little bit important for the sake of God or his work.

Yet why not, if James Hetfield and Lars Ulrich were willing to go hungry just for the sake of their music career? Don't we believe that the gospel is more important, and more deserving of sacrifice, than heavy metal?

If I was fond of witty catchphrases, I might observe that millions of Christians say they'd die for Christ, but few are willing to live for him. I don't know how else to explain the fact that, according to Barna research polls, 86% of Christians don't have a daily quiet time and ninety-plus percent don't tithe 10% of their income. We seem to have acquired this idea that God can be neatly slotted into an otherwise ordinary life. When we encounter people whose lives are anything but ordinary, like people who gave away everything to do foreign missions or folks who live in the inner city helping the poor, we marvel at them, seeming not to realize that we could be those people too if only we were really willing to make the kind of sacrifices that our lips talk about.

Remember Jesus' parable of the different soil types, found in Matthew 13? He talks about one kind of soil, where the seed (a metaphor for faith) actually takes root, but the seed is choked out by "the cares of this world," and "it proves unfruitful." If you want to help people in the inner city but you're worried it might be too dangerous, that's a care of this world. If you want to tithe but you're worried you can't pay all your bills, that's a care of this world. Bottom line, any time we look honestly at the reasons why we don't give more money or time to the gospel, or give more of ourselves to God, the things that hold us back are worldly cares. Deep in our hearts, we still love our own peace and security and predictability more than we love God. If that wasn't true, there wouldn't be so many people unwilling to part with peace and security and predictability.

Now, don't get me wrong. If you're already sacrificing for God, if you're giving him your time and treasure right where you are, then don't you dare move. If you've chosen your house because you feel it's the house where you can best serve God, your job because you feel it's the job God wants you to have, and your church because you know that's where God is using you, then don't even think about moving. But if you chose your house and job and church for other reasons, maybe it's time for you to sacrifice a bit for the gospel, to put yourself in a position where you're really living for God. Don't worry about your lifestyle, your kids' happiness, or who your new neighbors will be. Those are all cares of the world, no matter how legitimate they seem, and God is quite capable of taking care of them all if you just calm down and stop trying to engineer your own life.

It's pretty popular to criticize the church these days, especially the American church, medicated as it is by that peculiar tranquilizer called wealth, but I'm pretty optimistic about the church. I've never met a Christian who didn't have a legitimate desire to grow closer to God and have a life that really counted for something, and that's what I'm banking on when I write this essay. I don't think most people sit back in a chair and say, "I'm going to let the cares of the world choke me today." I think we all genuinely want to make a difference, and we're basically all frustrated that we don't know how and aren't doing a better job. I think this issue of sacrifice is at the heart of it. What are we really giving up in order to follow God? Are we sacrificing anything at all, or are we living the lives we want to lead and giving God what's left over when we're done buying toys and watching movies and having our own fun?

Sometimes it just takes a question to open a person's eyes, and my question to each of you would be, "Why is your life the way it is?" I also want to know how you react to James Hetfield and Lars Ulrich, and what I can only call their faith in their cause. What are you willing to go hungry for, go homeless for? If there was something in your life that you could change to give you a more Spirit-filled life, what would it be, and how soon are you going to change it?

I'm still young and naive enough to believe that faith doesn't have to be boring or mundane; it only becomes that way if we systematically shut down every attempt by God to make it interesting for us. I trust that God sees all the full-time jobs I've turned down so that I can keep my schedule clear for his work, and going to bed hungry is more than worth the spiritual growth I've had in the meantime. It's been scary at times, because change often is, but I do have to say that it's been worth it. I hope that you'll try sacrificing for your dream in a way that embarrasses Metallica, and I trust that you'll find the benefits to be worth the sacrifice as well.