In his book Radical, David Platt — a Baptist pastor from the United States — offers an interesting analogy to distinguish between Christians who truly follow God and those who are merely His fans. Platt describes genuine Christians as those living on a battleship, while Christians who are not serious and who are absorbed in love for the world are portrayed as living on a cruise ship. We can easily imagine the tension, seriousness, and vigilance of someone on a battleship, and, in contrast, how easy, comfortable, and relaxed life is on a cruise ship.
The picture of the Christian life as a life on a battleship full of struggle seems consistent with Jesus’ life, our model. Because of this, many Christians push themselves excessively to “force” a harsh lifestyle to resemble this ideal image. It cannot be denied that being a follower of Christ means being willing to live like a soldier on a battleship: ready for attacks, ready to fight, and ready to lose comfort. There is no crown without struggle. Yet the question is: is the battleship sailing or not? If it is sailing, is it sinking or remaining steadfast in navigating the ocean? Being a “battleship Christian” is good, but even more important is consistency in fighting and not sinking.
The church in Ephesus experienced this crisis of consistency. They were a congregation quick to oppose evil people, patient in suffering for the sake of the Lord’s name, and tireless in serving others (Rev. 2:2–3). Using Platt’s illustration, the Ephesian church was truly worthy of being called “battleship Christians.” However, that title turned out not to be enough. Inspired by the Spirit, the Apostle John recorded that the Lord rebuked them for leaving their first love (Rev. 2:4). In other words, being militant is not enough — militancy must be consistent. Consistency is often more important than past spiritual achievements.
Many Christians feel that they have suffered or served the Lord tremendously in the past. But now, the fire of suffering and sacrifice has died and been replaced by a life of comfort. Worse still, this comfort is justified by the idea that God is “rewarding” the suffering of the past with comfort today. Ironically, this happens most often among God’s servants. At the beginning of ministry, they labored with tears, pressure, and humiliation. God felt so near, and militancy was very real. But over time, as the congregation grew, offerings increased, and church assets multiplied, that militancy was gradually replaced by personal ambition and ministry agendas.
Of course, we are not saying that serving the Lord must always be done in poverty and suffering. Such thinking could drag someone into extreme asceticism that views suffering as the ideal state. We can still experience comfort and relief amid changing circumstances, but we must not allow the internal fire to fade. Our militancy in following the Lord must not be replaced with a compromising spirit toward the beauty of the world that urges us to remain still in mere comfort. What is meant here is the willingness to continually ignite a heart that is ready to sacrifice, to the point of urging us to live in a way that is “unusual,” not the same as the world.
Externally, we may live a life that looks normal. But internally, we restrain ourselves from the influence and allure of the world. For example, financially, we can purchase a house worth millions of dollars. But because we realize that we are living on a battleship, we choose to buy a sufficient house, while the rest of the money is used for God’s work — whether for family, society, or the church. This is the embodiment of consistency in living on a battleship: when the fire of suffering, the willingness to sacrifice, and the commitment to live differently from the world continue to burn within the heart.