…He’s a terrible roommate.
I will be trying to alternate between “church” topics and general theology thoughts. Today is a bit of a combination. Like the provocative title? Oooohhh….he’s so edgy!!
But seriously…there are many variations on the theme, but they are all similar to the plea “invite Jesus into your life” or “make Jesus the Lord of your life.” There are even clever diagrams we are taught to draw, showing Jesus on the throne of your life as opposed to you being on the throne of your life and how bad that is and if Jesus is your co-pilot, you should switch seats” (thank you bumper sticker and church sign dudes).
And the general concept is true but incomplete – or maybe just out of order. True – there are a few verses that specifically mention receiving Jesus and there is the first part of Romans 12, beautifully rendered in the Message (not to mention many other Scriptures) that advance the idea of offering to God the everyday things we all have to do and in so doing live a life of worship. But first…
The Gospels repeatedly depict the Jesus who calls out from the seashore, or points out short men in trees or brothers sitting under them, inviting Himself into each of their lives just long enough to say “follow me.” Jesus’ first call is always to leave your life and follow him into a new one. It was the call of the Rabbi in His moment in history – “follow me, learn from me, live like I do.”
A few folk along the way offered to make Jesus Lord of their current life – the rich young ruler, the man who wanted to follow but needed to attend to some family matters first. And Jesus, almost unfairly it seems, let them go their way. He even makes inflammatory statements like “Anyone who loves his father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; anyone who loves his son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; 38and anyone who does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me.”
Worthy of me? Harsh. But He isn’t always say it in the negative – He pleads with us to follow Him, and the promised result is a life beyond our wildest dreams. He promises rest, an easy burden, a light yoke. And the pre-requisite for all these is simple – lose your life, be born of the Spirit, take up your cross, give away what really matters most, abandon everything.
Really? Not American Jesus. American Jesus says “your life is fine, except for this one little thing – you need forgiveness of sin and eternal life. Also, I can make everything about your life better – better marriage, better kids, better job, better career. And more. More stuff, more success, more wealth. So invite me in so I can better-ify things.”
Bible Jesus says that real life begins when you surrender your hopes, dreams, plans, visions, passions, and things, take up a cross and follow Him. And sometimes things don’t get better. Jesus promised happy fuzzy things like “Then you will be handed over to be persecuted and put to death, and you will be hated by all nations because of me.” Wait – could someone get American Jesus back in here? He just want to organize my mess – not disrupt my path.
But Bible Jesus wrecks us, ruins us, completely alters the course of our lives. Fishermen leave their fathers, tax collectors are AWOL from their collection booth, and powerful religious men are struck blind and knocked from their horses. His very existence redefines everything we’ve every believed about God, nature, the universe, and ourselves. And He asks one thing from the very start: follow me.
It’s part of our nature to believe we’re not all that bad. Sure, death-row inmates and drug addicts and people who cut us off in traffic are desperately in need of that kind of radical life change. But most of us just need to invite Jesus in to clear out the messy corners of our mostly good life.
Bible Jesus begins with a basic understanding – you’re life is not what it could be. You are clay. A lump of it to be exact. And your best efforts to shape yourself fall a thousand miles short of your destiny. But all is not lost. Bible Jesus is good with clay. And He wants to make out of the stuff of your life an indescribable masterpiece. But you have got to get your foot off that pedal-thingy that spins clay. Okay enough clay.
Okay, you say, so I should sell my home, leave my children and wife, and move to Botswana. Maybe. But probably not. But maybe. The real question is, have you surrendered to Jesus and walked away after Him, or invited Him into your mess? Jesus doesn’t always consume everything on the altar of sacrifice (think Abraham and that “go up on the mountain and kill your son” episode), but He sometimes does (think “Job” or pretty much everybody mentioned in the last half of Hebrews 11). The disciples wondered about such things; “We have left everything to follow you! What then will there be for us?”. And Jesus promised them reward. But it all begins with a life completely surrendered.
It’s easy enough in younger days or passionate moments to make that kind of declaration. Let’s face it – when you’re 19 you don’t have much in the world but a hope and a dream and maybe an entertainment center made of milk crates. We all grow and change and gain so much, and maybe we sometimes find ourselves asking Bible Jesus to send American Jesus along for the ride.
Maybe that’s why I’m writing all this – I think I am hearing the call of the Cross – the God who sent Abraham up the mountain, cementing in Abe’s mind the undeniable truth that even the things God gave you get put under the knife, so your trust is in the savior and not the stuff. The same call that led New Testament writers to admonish us to take up our crosses daily.
This is why following Jesus is not safe or tame or PG-13. It is scary and insecure and thrilling and the only way to really be alive. I have to leave where I am and follow Bible Jesus to crazy places I would never have thought to go. From beginning to end, I give up my life, and stop trying to own it. Which why I say “don’t invite Jesus into your life.” Leave your life and find the one you were always meant to live. It may not be easier or more comfortable or safer or richer or more successful or happier. But it will be real. And that’s a life worth dying for.
