Following Jesus is not for the faint of heart. Contrary to what you may have heard, his greatest goal is not to give you your best life now. He doesn’t call us to comfort. He calls us to come and die: die to our selfishness, die to our self-sufficiency, die to ourselves so that we might find new life in him.
There’s a reason why the way of Jesus seems like foolishness to those who haven’t yet decided to follow him. The life he calls us to seems so contrary to how the rest of society tells us to live. Jesus calls us to bless those who persecute us, pray for those who curse us, care for those who can do nothing for us in return. What’s more, according to Jesus, the greatest in His kingdom are the servants, and we need to be willing to lose our life if we hope to find it. In other words, if we truly hope to live, we must first be willing to die to the ways we’ve learned to live.
Welcome to the upside down Kingdom of God.
Though, on second thought, perhaps we’re looking at it the wrong way. After all, God’s the rightful King, we’re just the stewards that He entrusted with the care of His creation. So maybe His kingdom isn’t the one that’s inverted. Maybe we’re the ones living upside down, we’ve just grown so accustomed to it that we don’t notice it anymore.
Consider for a moment the crooked ways of thinking we’ve normalized: we are taught to win at all costs, even if in winning we hurt our neighbors and neglect our families. We are taught to idolize the powerful, even if they use their power to benefit themselves rather than to help others. We are taught that in order to rise up, we need to push others down. We are taught to celebrate our freedom to do whatever we want, even if the vices we run to end up enslaving us. The prophet Isaiah had a stern warning for people who lived in this upside down sort of way:
“Woe to those who call evil good and good evil... Woe to those who are wise in their own eyes and clever in their own sight. Woe to those who are heroes at drinking wine and champions at mixing drinks, who acquit the guilty for a bribe, but deny justice to the innocent. Therefore, as tongues of fire lick up straw and as dry grass sinks down in the flames, so their roots will decay and their flowers blow away like dust; for they have rejected the law of the Lord Almighty and spurned the word of the Holy One of Israel.” (Isaiah 5:20-24)
Isaiah’s warning is worth considering. Those who live contrary to the way of God will not prosper, at least not for long. Though they might blaze brightly for a moment, they will be destroyed by the very things they are most proud of, their so-called freedoms will enslave them. As Solomon noted , “There is a way that appears to be right, but in the end it leads to death.” (Proverbs 14:12)
It's ironic that the way of the world which seems so very comfortable and safe ultimately leads to death. Meanwhile, the way of Christ that calls us to take up our cross and die to ourselves leads to life that is truly life. We each have a choice: Which way will I go? To which Kingdom will I pledge my allegiance? Whose values will will shape my values? It's the most important decision you will ever make.
Choose wisely.
The person who loves walking will go farther than one who is focused on the destination. When you are fixated on getting to the goal, the journey becomes an obstacle, something to get through as quickly as possible. But when you love the journey itself, both the milestones and the setbacks are a part of the adventure.
When you’re focused on the destination, failure can be debilitating. But when you love the journey, you’ll recognize that failure is a natural part of the path each of us needs to pass through. So try something new, fail at it, learn from your mistakes, try again, get better at it and one day people will come to you for advice on how to do what you do.
In a way, the journeys we embark on are a form of metamorphosis. In the end, the person who arrives at the destination will not be the same one who set out to reach it. So don’t begrudge the journey, because it’s not just leading you to a new destination. It’s producing growth in you that would have never happened had you simply stayed at home.
We often talk about spending time with God, but it's one of those things that can easily feel like a chore, something that we have to do rather than yearning to do. It's not that we don't want to connect with God. No doubt we long for greater intimacy with Him. But then why does that quiet time still feel like a chore?
Perhaps it's because that time doesn't feel productive. We don't come away with a profound insight about God or ourselves. We don't get immediate answers to our deepest questions, so that time can feel pointless, like we're wasting time we could otherwise use more productively. It just doesn't feel like an efficient use of our time.
But, as David Benner points out, "productivity and efficiency miss the point. What God wants is simply our presence, even if it feels like a waste of potentially productive time. That is what friends do together - they waste time with each other. Simply being together is enough without expecting to "get something" from the interaction. It should be no different with God." (The Gift of Being Yourself, p.19)
I wonder how our perspective of quiet time would change if we stopped looking for the payoff and instead looked at it like spending time with a close friend. What if we stopped carrying an expectation of getting something from Him and instead simply came with a longing to be with Him?
This week, try approaching your quiet time like you're coming to hang out with a friend, and see how that changes your perception of that time.
It was a quiet, peaceful night on the outskirts of Bethlehem. The sky was clear and the air was heavy with dew. Several flocks of sheep were scattered throughout the fields, sleeping contentedly despite the bitter temperature. At least the cold night air gave them a reprieve from the flies that incessantly swarmed during the heat of the day.
Eli gazed
out over the field, his eyes accustomed to the darkness. Though the moon was
hidden below the horizon, the scattering of stars in the heavens provided just
enough light to see by. This was Eli’s
favorite time of day: the sheep were resting contentedly and the earth still held a bit of warmth
from the afternoon sun.
He was
laying on the ground, wrapped in his heavy wool cloak, using a stone for a
pillow. His son lay nearby, curled up under his heavy outer cloak. They boy
shifted uncomfortably in his sleep. At 7 years old, this was his first year in
the fields and he was not yet accustomed to sleeping in the dirt. He would get
used to it soon enough.
Eli contemplated
waking his son to help him keep watch. After all, this was the time of night
when the predators were on the prowl. But he decided against it. “Let the boy
sleep,” he thought. “He’d earned it after a long day of chasing down stray
sheep.” Eli remembered how exhausting it had been his first year in the field
helping his own father tend the flock.
A cold
breeze rustled the tufts of grass that sprouted from the rocky soil.
Eli pulled his cloak tight and began to reminisce about his own childhood.
He never chose to become a shepherd. Truth be told, he hadn’t much of a choice
in the matter. His father was a shepherd, as was his grandfather. In a way, he was born to be a shepherd. But Eli didn’t mind. He loved being
under the stars, surrounded by the sheep.
Admittedly,
shepherds were looked down upon by city-dwellers. They treated them like dirty,
uneducated outsiders. But he’d love to see one of those “civilized” folk give
up the comforts of their straw-lined beds to spend even one evening out here in
the dirt.
Even the
local priest gave him a hard time for failing to darken the doorway of the
synagogue, but someone had to watch the sheep. And besides, these sheep were
being raised for the Feast of Pentecost. In a way, keeping them safe was his
act of worship. Eli smiled at the thought.
Suddenly, he
was startled from his reverie by a blindingly bright light in the night sky. It
was as if the heavens had split opened to reveal a being clothed with sunlight.
Eli could hear startled gasps from the other shepherds tending their flocks
nearby, so he knew he wasn’t imagining this. But the sight of this radiant man
caused his heart to freeze up in fear. In all his years, he’d never seen
anything like it. He must be an angel, an emissary of Yahweh.
The angel spoke
with a deep, powerful voice that broke the silence of the night: “Don’t be
afraid. I come bearing good news that will cause great joy for all people.”
Pointing towards Bethlehem, the angel continued: “Today, in the town of
David, a Savior has been born – He is the long-awaited Messiah, the Lord of
Life. Go see for yourself. This is what you are to look for: a baby wrapped in
a blanket and laying in a feeding trough.”
Suddenly, a
great angelic choir filled the sky. If Eli thought the first angel had been
bright, this crowd was blinding. He used his hand to shield his eyes from the
radiance. As he and the other shepherds watched in trembling awe, this angelic
choir cried out in a joyful chorus:
“Glory to
God in the highest heaven, and peace on earth to those on whom his favor rests.”
Then, as
suddenly as they appeared, the angelic multitude disappeared.
Eli lay there in silent shock for several moments, his heart racing in his
chest. Whenever he closed his eyes, he could see angelic silhouettes burned
into his vision.
“Abba, what
was that?!” his son timidly asked, his voice heavy with sleep.
Eli looked over at the boy, not sure how to answer. After a moment, he
admitted, “I’m not sure, son. Stay here with the flock while I go find out.”
With that, Eli quickly made his way over to the center of the field where the
rest of the shepherds were congregating.
But none of
the other shepherds had an explanation. Even Jacob, the oldest of the
shepherds, admitted he had never heard of anything like this happening. But one
thing was certain – the angel had told them to go to Bethlehem to find a baby
wrapped in a blanket and laying in a feeding trough, so that’s what they would
do.
Eli made his
way over to the flock and, with the help of his son, they roused the sheep and
began to quickly make their way back towards Bethlehem.
It was slower going with a flock in tow, but he couldn’t just leave the sheep
in the fields unattended. So their journey into the town was accompanied by the
confused bleating of sleepy sheep.
As the
shepherds led their flocks through the narrow streets of Bethlehem, they began
to knock on any door with its oil lamp still burning in the window, hoping
someone knew where to find this child laying in a manger. But nobody seemed to
have any idea what they were talking about. Door after door was shut in their
face, and as they moved deeper into Bethlehem, they left scores of irritated
people in their wake grumbling about drunken shepherds disturbing the peace.
It wasn’t
until Eli knocked on the door to the village inn that they finally caught a
break. The inn-keeper admitted that he’d turned away a pregnant woman and her
husband earlier that night, but he said they might be sleeping in the stable
where they housed the guests’ livestock. Eli quickly turned and motioned for
the other shepherds to follow him around back.
He didn’t even notice as the inn-keeper abruptly slammed the door shut, a look
of contempt on his face.
When Eli
rounded the corner, he found a small cave cut into the hillside that was being
used to stable the livestock of the inn’s guests. And there was light inside.
Eli and his son left their flock with another shepherd so that they could come
closer. As they drew near the entrance, they saw a man tending to a young woman
who was resting in the hay. Next to them was a wooden feeding trough that had
been converted into a makeshift cradle. Just as the angel had said!
Surprisingly,
there were no other visitors, no dignitaries there to welcome the long-awaited
messiah. Not even the local priest, who Eli figured would have been the first
to find out.
They entered
the stable slowly so as not to frighten the new parents.
People were typically standoffish towards shepherds on a good day,
let alone a young couple with a newborn baby in the dead of night.
The couple
was surprised to see them, but Eli quickly explained that they’d been
commissioned by an Angel of the Lord to come see the one born to be the
Messiah. He also told them that their child’s birth had been celebrated by an
angelic choir. Eli would have laughed at the surprised look on the young
parents’ faces if he hadn’t been so overwhelmed himself by everything he’d seen
tonight.
As he spoke,
Eli’s eyes kept drifting back to the tiny, olive-skinned baby laying in a
feeding trough. Was this really God’s chosen redeemer, the one the prophets of
old had had spoken of? Eli found it ironic that for centuries, the people of
Israel had been waiting for this night, for this child’s arrival, and when he
finally came the only ones there to greet him were a bunch of uneducated
shepherds!
He couldn’t help but wonder why God would have sent His angels to share the good news with them. Or why Yahweh would allow His redeemer to be born in a stable instead of a palace! It was unexpected to say the least, but Eli couldn’t argue with what he saw before him. It was just as the angel had said.
Not wanting to overstay his welcome, Eli thanked the young couple for their hospitality and then he and his son began to drive their flock back through the streets of Bethlehem. But as they went, they didn’t go silently. That night, they shared what they’d seen with anyone they met in the streets. And as they made their way back out to the fields, they joined with a heavenly choir, glorifying God and celebrating the birth of His son, Jesus, the Messiah.
Whatever it is you’re facing today, no matter how exhausted, discouraged or disadvantaged you might feel, those things are only limitations ...
