What does it mean to be a Christian?
Let's dispense with the canned answers they teach us in Sunday School... The word Christian shares, like many English words, a Greek origin. Christianos (Χριστιανός), or follower of Christ as it reads in English, is the true definition of the word. So what is a follower of Christ?
In typical Jesus fashion, He uses a parable to answer the question.
In John 15, Jesus paints some stinging truth in quite sobering colors: He looks, He does not see fruit, He trashes. If He finds fruit, He'll prune what is there to produce even more.
Either way there is pain.
Yet the underlying characteristics of this process are mercy and compassion. A bit of my own paraphrase would go something like this:
My Father and I work together in this garden of ours. We love you so much that we're not willing to leave you sitting there dirty after you've said yes. So every time you keep saying yes to My leadership and you feel pain, remember that pain produces growth and growth produces fruit, a sign of maturity. Don't give up. I've already won. Just remain in Me and you win too, kids.
We can see from the passage in John 15 that this pruning is a lifetime process. It's not one time and you're done. It's a dynamic, constantly growing and maturing process of consistent surrender! It's all or nothing. Our jealous God is an all-consuming fire. A life surrendered to Christ looks radical to the world. It offends the mind. It's uncomfortable. It requires sacrifice. It comes with persecution.
I feel as though I am just now discovering the true Gospel. It's becoming personal. Uncomfortable. But I wouldn't have it any other way: now I'm embracing the brokenness that comes with the authenticity of being transparent and honest before God; I'm learning to let Him shine into my dark, yet lovely heart at greater and greater levels.
When piloting a boat, the rudder controls the direction of travel. Adjusting this device frequently to port or starboard keeps the boat headed in the proper direction. In the same way, surrender of our lives to God allows for spiritual course correction. I think this excerpt from an Oswald Chambers devotional articulates well the attitude of our hearts to allow such course correction to take place in our relationships with God:
"Do you have even the slightest reliance on anything or anyone other than God? Is there a remnant of reliance left on any natural quality within you, or on any particular set of circumstances? Are you relying on yourself in any manner whatsoever regarding this new proposal or plan which God has placed before you? Will you examine yourself by asking these probing questions? It really is true to say, “I cannot live a holy life,” but you can decide to let Jesus Christ make you holy. “You cannot serve the Lord . . .”— but you can place yourself in the proper position where God’s almighty power will flow through you. Is your relationship with God sufficient for you to expect Him to exhibit His wonderful life in you?"
Raw, brutal honesty is cathartic. An authentic, vibrant life is awaiting those who lose control. I want the vibrant life now and the eternal rewards later. I want to abide. I know I'm not alone. Let's get pruned together.
Hey Dad,
Hope you're well. It's me. Your favorite kid. It's been awhile since we chatted. And I know why. It's because I keep thinking that intimacy is a switch that I can throw at my discretion.
Wrong.
You're not a part-time dad; You don't want me to be a part-time kid.
So I'm sorry. I know, You've heard it all before. Yet, true to Your nature, I know You're up there smiling and welcoming me back into Your arms. But again, true to the way I was created, I'm coming back to You.
The problem is flesh.
It's that pesky Pride and Selfishness. Essentially, I keep thinking I can do better at running my life than You! There can only be one You. And trying to usurp Your authority in my life is the same thing that got Lucifer kicked out of Your glorious presence. The same sin that tripped up Adam and Eve.
And here I am.
Guilty.
But today, I'm choosing to take my guilt and waywardness to the only Place where it will disappear. The foot of the Cross. And the blood I find dripping down from Emmanuel's veins will again make me pure.
So Dad, please know that in good faith, I'm saying yes to You again. And I remember reading a sermon about this once. About how the only way I can come to You is if I first realize that I am NOTHING without You. You are my Source, the very Life in my veins! Without you, I wouldn't even exist...the air I breathe wouldn't be here. Even if there were air, I wouldn't have lungs with which to draw even one breath because all things are held together by You.
Since You promised to never forsake me, I know that You were following me around in my childish independent streak, just waiting to pick me up when I inevitably fell. Yet, I still can't help feeling that You were calling out to me, whispering my name attempting to disrupt my routine, even before I fell further.
Well done.
Here I am. Routine disrupted. Reminds me of all the good times we've had. Funny how when things are going swimmingly is often when I think of You the least. I'm reminded of the times when You never left my side, though I thought you did...
You wept with me on a warm Sunday afternoon in Seattle when I tearfully waved goodbye to all my friends from the inside of a train car as it carried with it the shattered dreams of a teenage boy moving halfway across the country.
You knelt beside this freshly-dumped ex-boyfriend in high school who didn't understand why.
You were there during those times I kept searching for You at the bottom of bottle after bottle, gently and kindly inviting me to something great.
And each time I woke up next to someone who wasn't my wife, You were there too. You're used to that. Adultery is unfortunately common in this family.
And each weak, yet sincere attempt to put You first in my heart was met with a ravished gaze. Every time.
When I finally said yes to Your invitations to greater intimacy, you were just as much here as You were when I made a decision in rebellion.
Yet the difference in the good times from the bad is the joy You get from my obedience, and the satisfaction I get when I obey.
So it's those times of obedience that comfort this pilgrims heart at a time like this.
You're not mad.
You're abounding in love! You're slow to anger! You're good to me!
And I know it well.
So thanks for listening. You always do. It's good for me to state Your goodness over my heart. Maybe this time it will stick. At least for a day.
Which means, I'll talk to You tomorrow. If not again today...
Because this religion thing to which You've invited me is the pathway of a lifelong, daily walk-it-out-by-fear-and-trembling relationship with a dynamic, living, loving Father.
Thanks for choosing me. I can't make it up to You, but I'll give You the only thing that You cannot have unwillingly-my heart.
It's Yours. I trust You. Help me trust You more.
See You soon.
Love,
Your favorite son
