Jesus Is for Losers

I have been listening to Steve Taylor for a very long time. His music goes all the way back to my childhood, and if you know anything about Taylor, you know he has never been afraid of a provocative title, biting satire, or an uncomfortable truth. One of his songs that has stuck with me all these years is “Jesus Is for Losers,” from his 1993 album Squint. At one point, I even had a T-shirt from one of his concerts bearing Steve’s and Sixpence None The Richer autographs and one word printed across the front: Loser. I wore it proudly. That probably sounds strange. Nobody wants to be called a loser. Our culture celebrates winners. We admire successful people, wealthy people, powerful people, attractive people, talented people, influential people, and people who seem to have everything figured out. Nobody builds a résumé around his failures. Nobody posts his biggest sins under “Accomplishments” on LinkedIn.

But when it comes to the Gospel, there is something we desperately need to understand: Jesus is for losers, and I am one of them. In fact, Jesus died for the biggest loser in the world: me. That doesn’t mean I believe I am worse than every human being who has ever lived. It means that when I stand before a holy God, comparing myself with somebody else becomes completely irrelevant. I don’t need to establish that I am better than the guy next door. I don’t need to prove that my sins are smaller than somebody else’s sins. I don’t need to find someone whose failures make mine look respectable. I need a Savior, and so do you.

Ted Turner Was Right

Back around 1990, media mogul and CNN founder Ted Turner famously described Christianity as “a religion for losers.” He eventually apologized for the comment, saying that it was uncalled for and that he regretted making it. But there is an interesting irony in the insult. In a very different sense than Turner intended, he was right. Christianity really is for losers. It’s for Ted Turner. It’s for Steve Taylor. It’s for me. It’s for you.

It’s for every human being who has ever discovered that money can’t save him, intelligence can’t save him, morality can’t save him, accomplishments can’t save him, religion can’t save him, and trying really hard to become a better person can’t erase the sins already written across his life. The only problem with saying Christianity is for losers is assuming there are some people who aren’t losers. Scripture eliminates that possibility pretty quickly. Romans 3:23 says, “for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” Notice the word all. Not some. Not just the really bad people. Not prisoners. Not addicts. Not adulterers. Not criminals. Not simply the people whose sins became public while ours stayed private. All of us have sinned. The billionaire and the bankrupt man have the same fundamental problem. The pastor and the prisoner need the same Savior. The successful businessman and the guy who has completely wrecked his life need the same blood of Christ. We’re all losers.

The Self-Made Man Has a Problem

One of the ideas running through Steve Taylor’s song is the foolishness of believing we can somehow climb our way into righteousness. We chase recognition. We want respect. We want people to think we’re successful. Sometimes even Christians become obsessed with appearing spiritual, respectable, and put together. But Jesus never asked us to impress Him. He asked us to recognize our need for Him.

Jesus said in Mark 2:17, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.” That’s the heart of Jesus Is for Losers. A doctor is useless to the man who refuses to admit he’s sick, and a Savior seems unnecessary to the person convinced he can save himself. That’s why pride is so dangerous. Pride keeps telling us that we’re doing pretty well. Pride points across the room and says, At least I’m not as bad as that guy.

Jesus told a story about exactly that kind of thinking. In Luke 18:9–14, a Pharisee and a tax collector went to the temple to pray. The Pharisee essentially presented God with his spiritual résumé. He thanked God that he wasn’t like all those other sinful people. The tax collector couldn’t even lift his eyes toward heaven. His prayer was simple: “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!” Jesus said it was the tax collector who went home justified. In the eyes of the respectable religious people around him, he was the loser, but he was also the one who understood how desperately he needed mercy.

Jesus Had a Habit of Hanging Around Losers

Look at the people Jesus surrounded Himself with: fishermen, tax collectors, the sick, the poor, social outcasts, and people with terrible reputations whom respectable society preferred to avoid. Jesus wasn’t impressed by status. When Zacchaeus climbed a tree because he wanted to see Jesus, Jesus invited Himself to his house. Jesus repeatedly showed mercy to people others had written off. And when a thief was dying beside Him with absolutely nothing left to offer, Jesus promised him paradise.

That thief may be one of the greatest pictures of grace in the entire Bible. He couldn’t clean up his life. He couldn’t join a church. He couldn’t volunteer. He couldn’t give money. He couldn’t repair his reputation. He couldn’t go back and undo whatever crimes had put him on that cross. He was dying. He was a loser by practically every definition the world could give the word, and Jesus saved him. That’s grace.

Ephesians 2:8–9 says, “For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.” There is no résumé impressive enough to earn salvation. There is no list of accomplishments long enough to erase sin. Salvation is a gift given to people who could never earn it themselves.

The Biggest Loser I Know

I’ve spent enough years of my life trying to prove myself. I’ve wanted people to think I was successful. I’ve wanted people to respect me. I’ve wanted to be a good husband, a good father, a good Christian, a good employee, and a good man. I’ve accumulated degrees, built a career, served in ministry, raised children, volunteered, gone to church, and done plenty of things that looked respectable from the outside. I’ve also failed. I’ve sinned. I’ve lost my temper. I’ve said things I wish I could take back. I’ve hurt people emotionally. I’ve made bad decisions. I’ve been prideful, selfish, angry, impatient, and stubborn. There are things in my life I would rewrite in an instant if God handed me the pen.

But that’s exactly why the Gospel means more to me today than it did when I was a kid wearing that loser shirt. Back then, I thought the shirt was funny. Today, I understand it. I don’t come to Jesus because I’ve finally gotten my act together. I come because I haven’t. I don’t come to Him holding up my accomplishments and saying, Look what I’ve done for You. I come empty-handed. That’s the only way anyone comes.

One of the most dangerous things Christians can do is forget that we are losers who were rescued by grace. Once we’ve been Christians for a while, it’s surprisingly easy to start looking down on everyone else. We see someone else’s addiction, divorce, arrest, sexual sin, anger, broken family, or terrible decision and quietly think, I would never do that. But 1 Corinthians 10:12 warns, “Therefore let anyone who thinks that he stands take heed lest he fall.” The Gospel gives us absolutely no reason for arrogance. If salvation were an award for good behavior, perhaps we could brag. But it isn’t. It’s a rescue mission.

Jesus didn’t climb onto the cross because humanity was doing such a wonderful job. He went there because we were hopelessly lost. Romans 5:8 says, “but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” That’s an important distinction. Christ didn’t wait until we cleaned ourselves up. He didn’t wait until we proved ourselves worthy. He died for us while we were still sinners.

There Is Hope for Losers

Here’s the beautiful part: calling myself a loser isn’t self-hatred. It’s an admission of reality that leads directly to freedom. I don’t have to pretend anymore. Christianity doesn’t require me to convince God that I’m worthy of His love. The Gospel begins with admitting that I’m not and discovering that He loved me anyway. That is what makes grace so astonishing.

The world tells us to prove ourselves and earn our place. Jesus invites sinners to come to Him. The world celebrates people who climb to the top, but Jesus stretched His arms across a cross for people who could never save themselves. So maybe Ted Turner was right after all, although not remotely in the way he intended. Christianity is for losers.

It’s for the person whose marriage failed. It’s for the father who wishes he could redo parts of his parenting. It’s for the prisoner sitting in a jail cell. It’s for the addict who relapsed. It’s for the successful executive who discovers that money and power still leave him empty. It’s for the church kid who secretly knows he isn’t nearly as righteous as everyone thinks he is. It’s for Ted Turner. It’s for Steve Taylor. It’s for me. And it’s for you.

Because ultimately there are only two kinds of losers in this world: losers who know they need Jesus, and losers who haven’t figured it out yet.

More than thirty years after Steve Taylor recorded Jesus Is for Losers, I think I finally appreciate that old concert T-shirt more than I ever did when I wore it. I’m a loser. I’m a sinner. I’m a failure who desperately needs grace. And Jesus Christ died for losers exactly like me.

That’s not an insult. That’s the Gospel.

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Jesus Is For Losers
by Steve Taylor

If I was driven
Driven ahead by some noble ideal
Who took the wheel?

If I was given
Given a glimpse of some glorious road
When was it sold?

So caught up in the chase
I keep forgetting my place

Just as I am
I am stiff-necked and proud
Jesus is for losers
Why do I still play to the crowd?

Just as I am
Pass the compass, please
Jesus is for losers
I’m off about a hundred degrees

If I was groping
Groping around for some ladder to fame
I am ashamed

If I was hoping
Hoping respect would make a sturdy footstool
I am a fool

Bone-weary every climb
Blindsided every time

Just as I am
I am needy and dry
Jesus is for losers
The self-made need not apply