Follow me….

Have you ever noticed the way some drivers will slow down as they drive past the scene of an accident? You can see them rubber-necking, as if hoping to catch a glimpse of blood or tragedy – because for them, the spectacle is little more than entertainment. Even if they give a moments care, or perhaps utter a brief prayer, they can still feel insulated from any suffering they witness because they are detached from it by distance.

No doubt, this is an aspect of our fallen human nature that the entertainment industry relies upon, and reality tv shows exploit for ratings. Because being observers, rather than participants, enables us to live vicariously through the experience of others, both good and bad. We can keep ourselves feeling safe and comfortable because those experiences require nothing of us. But is that acceptable for those who profess to follow Jesus?

The Invitation

When Jesus was building his team, he invited them to join with him by saying “Follow me”. It wasn’t an impersonal general media alert issued to everyone, it was an up-close and personal invitation. Consider Matthew.

Matthew was a man most likely despised by his own people because he worked for the Romans. And he was probably held in contempt and treated with disdain by those Romans, not only because he was a Jew and a citizen of a conquered nation, but because he was willing to compromise himself and betray his own people by working for them.

We can’t know the reasons or circumstances that led Matthew to becoming a tax collector – whether he was just clever with numbers and was happy to work in a job where his skills were useful and appreciated, or whether he was simply driven by avarice and ambition. Or even whether he was actually given the choice at all. We don’t know his political opinions or his world view, his personal perspectives or his feelings. What we can deduce from what is written in scripture is that tax collectors were perceived as human scum to the Jews, because they made a living from working for the oppressors of their own nation. We can also deduce that they received financial rewards for doing so.

So when Jesus walked up to Matthew and said, “Follow me” without elaboration or incentive, what happened in that simple exchange that made Matthew decide, there and then, to get up and literally walk away? What made Matthew willing to risk the displeasure of his employers? To surrender his lucrative career? To leave everything behind and quite literally walk away from all he had known? What was so powerful about that exchange that it influenced Matthew so profoundly?

These Days…

Thanks to social media, these days following someone has taken on a new meaning because all we have to do is click on a little icon and we can digitally keep track of what someone is doing or thinking or saying. It doesn’t cost us a thing personally. We don’t have to give anything up, or put ourselves at any kind of risk. And if we stop liking what we’re seeing or hearing, or it gets too hard or challenging for us, we just unfollow them. But back then, following was an all or nothing choice. And when it comes to following Jesus today, nothing is meant to have changed.

One quick peek at Christianity in general these days might suggest otherwise though. These days it seems we want to eat our cake and keep it too. Like that rich young man who walked away disappointed at the prospect of having to give up his stuff to follow Jesus (Matt 19:22), or like the guy who used family commitments as an excuse to cling to his comfortable life (Matt 8:21), we want to determine for ourselves what following means; to rationalise what might be required of us so as to create a middle ground that is more comfortable for us. The thing is though; it either is, or it isn’t. We do or we don’t. We will or we won’t. There is not meant to be a middle ground. It cannot always be comfortable to follow Jesus.

So, at some point we will all need to make a choice: are we going to follow Jesus or not? If he asks us tomorrow to do something that might interrupt our schedule, or cost us in some way, will we find ourselves willing and able to do it? And will we obey quickly? What He asks of us is not always easy or comfortable, and I suspect that we sometimes pretend as though we didn’t hear Him, or that we don’t understand what is being asked of us so we can play for time. Sometimes we might ignore what was said because we don’t like it or just can’t be bothered. And sadly, sometimes we are so spiritually ignorant that we don’t even know we’ve been asked to do something. And yet, if God is asking something of us, surely there must be a need for it and a purpose to it that will be of benefit to us or others.

It seems we have become so adept at insulating ourselves that our senses have become dulled by the comfortable life we lead. We become so comfortable in our denominational brand of religious expression, that we may have even deluded ourselves into believing we have already been following him. But isn’t ‘following’ an active verb – that we are meant to be actively engaged in the process? Shouldn’t that mean more than just going to church on Sundays? And shouldn’t following Jesus mean to follow in all His ways, and not just the comfortable ones?

Our Way

Jesus says follow me, but how often do we want to to negotiate the terms, and be the ones that reserve the right to determine exactly what following means? I don’t think God is against us having comfort in life, nor do I believe He has a problem with us having routines, schedules and stuff, as long as the stuff does not have us, we are not rigid about our routines or inflexible with our schedules. The point is that although we may not be required to immediately sell everything, chuck in our job, or leave our families, shouldn’t following Him mean accepting that we need to be prepared to do so at any given moment? Shouldn’t Jesus, as Lord of our lives, and as King of our kingdom, hold greater prominence in our lives and affections than any routine, schedule, person or object?

Instead, it often seems we want to keep him in a box that makes us feel safe, and in control. We want to reserve the right and ability to lift the lid on that box and engage only when it suits us. I think that sometimes it’s almost as though we want to treat the box like it’s magic; to rub it and have Jesus pop out like a genie to give us stuff or make us feel warm and fuzzy. But doesn’t following Jesus mean we need to be willing to put our trust in him rather than in ourselves? Jesus is no sugar-daddy, nor should we expect him to be tame. Following Him is not meant to be predictable. Shouldn’t following Him mean being ready to serve Him, rather than the other way around?

Wild Ride

I believe that truly following Jesus can be like a wild ride: one that takes us from moments of divine appointment that leave us feeling emotionally elated and spiritually satiated; to such a depth of intimacy with God that our capacity to comprehend it is outstripped by the sheer magnitude of it.

It can be sorrowful when seeing a world in such pain that we are left feeling utterly bereft at the tragedy of its unwillingness to accept God. It can stir compassion and intercession deeply within us that finds no other expression but tears; but once stirred, will then blossom to see that compassion act as fuel to fire us up and drive us on to pursue justice and equality and recompense for others.

It can be the thrill of revelations bursting over one another as we delve into the riches of the Word; or finding unequalled peace when revelling in the world of nature that God created for us. It can be the humble joy of serving or giving to others, or the exuberant, unabandoned joy of praising and worshipping the One who has given us so much. And even though we may sometimes experience suffering, persecution or betrayal because we follow Him, the journey also carries moments of comfort and sweet sanctuary when in His presence.

But most of us want to sit quietly at home or in church and protect our comfort by watching it all happen from a distance. Like the rubber-necking gawkers at an accident, we love to hear about the miracles and exploits of other followers, but how often are we listening for the sake of entertainment without considering that perhaps we should have our own exploits, and our own tales to tell?

The Choice

Each of us will face moments in our lives where we stand at a crossroads, and we will have to choose whether we will do what is easy, or do what is right. The two are not always mutually exclusive, but when it comes to having to choose one over the other, which are we more likely to choose? How many of us have sat around with our Christian friends at one time or another, pontificating self-righteously about what we think the church ought to do? Yet how uncomfortable is it when someone points out that we are the church? And that whatever we are expecting the ‘church’ to do, we are really saying it’s what we ought to do. Might we be willing and able to do it?

It’s always going to be easier to condemn or criticise others; to point the finger just as the religious leaders and Pharisees did to the woman caught in adultery. But when it comes down to it, how willing might we be to do the very things we are expecting, or hoping someone else should be doing? It might be easy to feel horrified or outraged by the acts of a condemned criminal on death row, and possibly even justify to ourselves that their imminent death is deserved; but how many of us would be comfortable actually flicking the switch and then watching that person die in front of us as a direct consequence of our own action?

We can stare at a car accident in passing, and maybe even draw a strange kind of emotional comfort and satisfaction from the fact that the suffering we are witnessing is not our own. That would be easy, because we are distanced from it. But what if we were the first person on the scene of the accident? If we were the one holding the hand of the bloodied and dying mother while her 3 year old child sobs hysterically from where she is trapped in the back seat of the car? The dynamic becomes vastly different, because we have become more than an observer; we cannot distance ourselves from the very real grief and pain.

Because the thing is, there is a distinct dynamic that occurs in any truly raw and honest interpersonal exchange. Although it may be an intangible dynamic, we can still sense the atmosphere. When we are face to face with another person, when we truly make a connection, it can change the atmosphere around us and impact both of us deep inside. It can transcend all our social and cultural filters. It can move beyond our perceptions and prejudices. It can break down barriers. It can melt away our natural self-centredness and strip away all that separates us, to instead create a bond that unites us.

The challenge….

Perhaps that is what happened to Matthew when Jesus stood before him. Matthew looked into the eyes of the One who saw him without filters, who knew every sin he had committed, and every secret shame; and yet what Matthew saw reflected back to him was perfect love, acceptance and forgiveness.

So just imagine for a moment, if Jesus was standing in front of you – looking at you directly with those loving eyes that see so clearly and so deeply into your soul – seeing all the mistakes you’ve made and knowing the people you’ve hurt, and yet still looking at you with a love so intense that you feel yourself wanting to melt into it – when he asks you to trust Him, to follow Him into doing something or going somewhere, what will you do?