Zoom! Crash! Boom!

It's funny how we often try to minimalize the Christian life as mountaintop and valley experiences. I know, I’ve heard the analogy and studied Matthew 17. I’ve even used that description myself. It’s an easy explanation. That’s what we like isn’t it? Easy explanations? I know I do. I’ve been guilty of using this analogy myself. But it seems a little too easy doesn’t it? This mountaintop/valley perspective on the Christian life comes off a bit one-dimensional when I look in on my own life.

Mike Yaconelli used to say that the roller coaster is a much more accurate model of the Christian life: “You say yes to Jesus, and suddenly you are strapped in and you think, I’m going to die! Then you begin the long climb of growth—Sunday school, baptism, church membership—and you think, Hey, no problem. I can follow Jesus anywhere, and then—ZOOOOOOOOM—you crash into the twists and turns of life, jerking left then right, up then down, and fifty, sixty years go by and—WHAM!—you’re dead.”

The reality of that model strikes me to the core! In all honesty, half the time I don’t know which way is up and which way is down. Recently, it’s been brought to my attention that many of my good friends who have begun their college chapter of life are struggling. They are struggling with school, future decisions, being away from families who miss their presence, broken relationships which have never been reconciled, deeply connecting with others… I’m suddenly reminded that, while exciting, new, and liberating, this phase of life can also be confusing and scary as hell!

Too often, we can find ourselves riding this roller coaster with others who seem to be having a good time—their hands are in the air, they’re screaming with the rest of the passengers as life goes careening left and right—but the reality is, they’re lonely and scared to death, believing they’re riding all by themselves. I’m not so sure that the rest of life is any different. I do know that on this disorienting ride called life, God’s grace meets us at every twist and every turn. I also know that we don’t need to ride alone. When we expose our fears, confess our brokenness and pray for each other, God heals and He makes us whole. The prayer of a person living right with God is something powerful to be reckoned with.

Life, lifelessness and other childlike thoughts

Don’t touch that! Quiet down! Grow up! Quit acting like a child! Even from the time that we’re very small, we are often discouraged from behaving like children. Whether it’s for our own safety or whether it’s so that we’ll fit in, we are constantly told that we need to grow up and act our age. While approaching maturity as followers of Jesus requires us to put behind us childish things, I think we need to rediscover following Him with childlike faith. There’s a fine line between acting childish and being childlike.

Jesus has something to say about childlikeness. Matthew 18:3 gives an account of Jesus calling a small child to Himself and then saying to the adults around Him, “I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” What would it look like for you and me to follow after Jesus like a child—with the wonder, the mystery, and the danger of experiencing life for the first time?

Faith like a child is the kind of faith honored by our Father in Heaven. It’s not a safe faith. It’s a faith that breeds curiosity and danger and astonishment. It is as Mike Yaconelli calls it in his book, Dangerous Wonder, a “gloriously treacherous” faith. There is no glory in a lifeless faith which simply finds us safely sitting in our pew every Sunday morning to enjoy our comfortable religious routine. Following Jesus is anything but comfortable or routine. Following after the unpredictable Jesus found in the gospels is flying by the seat of your pants. It’s having tables turned, curtains torn, and kingdoms flipped upside down. It’s never knowing what to expect Him to stir up in our perfectly mapped-out lives.

Treacherous? indeed! Glorious? Absolutely!

So how is the Church today, any different from those of the early Church who were martyred for their zeal in following after Jesus? The culture is certainly different in many ways, but what about us? What about the Church? The disciples of the early Church were not called to live safely, but were commissioned by Christ Himself to “go”. This going that Jesus had in mind didn’t have anything to do with going and hiding away in their comfy little feel-good steeple-adorned buildings so as not to be infected by the world. Instead, the going that Jesus commands at the end of Matthew is a charge to infect the world with Himself, making disciples, baptizing them, and teaching them! Nothing very passive about that kind of life. Some might even consider it “dangerous”, “adventurous”, or “risky”.

We’ve become satisfied with a life-enhancing Christianity rather than a life-changing Christianity. We’re often content with being “nice people” instead of radical followers of Jesus.

So what’s at the root of this very un-Christlike mentality?

Hmmm… That’s a list too lengthy to go into. But for the sake of this article, let’s talk about fear. Do you fear going to unfamiliar places? Do you fear people who look very different from yourself? Do you fear investing in other people? Do you fear rejection from other people? Do you fear the possibility of missing out on life elsewhere while you’re not there? Do you fear that you’re not good enough for God to use you? I sure am. It’s ironic how we can miss out on life because we’re afraid of experiencing life. But that’s often what happens. We turn our backs on experiencing life and in the process turn our backs on God, the author and perfector of life. We become the Church’s own worst enemy by saying that we believe in Jesus while we’re no longer astonished and amazed by Him. It’s a frightening notion. It frightens me even more to think that I could—or potentially already have—become that very person.

I want to live dangerously close to Jesus, in absolute awe, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. But I’m afraid… I’m afraid of having my life “ruined” by Jesus, because that’s exactly what Jesus does. He turns our lives inside out and upside down until the only way we know who we are is by knowing who He is. He invented life. He offers us to experience life and promises it to us abundantly. Often that means being violently thrown from our cozy four-walled religion into a wildly colorful and boisterous world.

I want to approach the throne of Grace with the wide-eyed wonder of a child, completely and utterly overwhelmed by the unflinching love of my Father.