Last week I had coffee with someone who recently started attending my church. He is returning to explore his faith after a decades-long hiatus from organized religion. His candidness was refreshing and at one point in the conversation he said, "Honestly, sometimes Jesus scares the $#&T out of me." I responded, "yeah, me too."
We laughed and shook hands and then returned to our respective places of work- him to a non-profit, me to a building where this intimidating Jesus character is revered and worshiped.
If we’re doing this Christianity thing right, I think there comes a point in our faith experience in which we’re confronted with an unsettling picture of Jesus that sends us scrambling to see if our decision to marry our lives to this misunderstood Jew came with a prenuptial agreement.
We like the Jesus who invites the five thousand for dinner and beckons babies into into his presence. We are terrified when that same Jesus tells us to get the food ready and alerts us that we’re on diaper duty.
C.S. Lewis illustrated the dilemma facing followers of Jesus when his character Lucy asks a beaver (this is a fantasy story so chill out) about a mysterious lion named Aslan who has come to free the land of Narnia from an evil spell. “Is he safe,” Lucy asks in reference to this powerful lion. “Of course he isn’t safe,” responds the beaver, “but he’s good.”
As a pastor, I am torn between the wishful thinking of presenting a faith that will not alienate and the truthful picture of a Jesus who isn’t always the most palatable person in the room.
You cannot have the sweet baby in the manger without also accepting the agitator who called out Pilate’s smarmy political games. You cannot revel in the one who calmed the seas without welcoming the teacher who did not hesitate to tell the rich young ruler to go and sell everything he had and give the proceeds to the poor. If you want the Jesus who seeks out the lost sheep, you must also have the Jesus who warns Peter in a vision not to call anything that God has made unclean, even if your tradition and Holy Scriptures seem to tell you otherwise.
When and if you decide to follow this Jesus, you always run the risk that he will tell you do some something completely foolish with your life. I have several people a week tell me that they wonder whether or not God is calling them to do a particular thing but perhaps it is simply a passing thought because it sounds even crazier now that it’s being said out loud. I shrug my shoulders and then ask if I can pray that they would have the courage to embrace a little craziness now and then.
It's okay to confess that we wake up each morning anxious where Jesus might ask us to follow him next, what platform of our political beliefs he might challenge us to change, and which way he might coax us to donate money that we'd rather save for a rainy day. Some might say this is evidence of spiritual immaturity. I call it being honest.
And so I will wake up tomorrow at my usual time. And over a bowl of cereal I will pause to collect my thoughts and sigh when I realize that with Jesus, safety is never guaranteed. As I clear my dishes and grab my keys from the dresser, I will say a quick prayer thanking God for being good. Because for now, the promise of goodness is enough to keep me following Jesus, regardless of how scared $#&T-less I might be.
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