Christmas Risk

My church is going through a series called "Christmas Risk", and it has me thinking. So much of our 21st century American brand of Christianity is about comfort and security and nice, warm, soft theology. We like comfy chairs and a "relationship with Jesus". We like the assurance of heaven and feeling like we're good people. It's all very…nice. But we're not called to "nice". We're called to follow Jesus wherever He leads–not just to our favorite row in the sanctuary, but to the trenches, over the edge, into the deep.

My church is going through a series called "Christmas Risk", and it has me thinking. So much of our 21st century American brand of Christianity is about comfort and security and nice, warm, soft theology. We like comfy chairs and a "relationship with Jesus". We like the assurance of heaven and feeling like we're good people. It's all very…nice. But we're not called to "nice". We're called to follow Jesus wherever He leads–not just to our favorite row in the sanctuary, but to the trenches, over the edge, into the deep.

Jesus calls us to pick up our crosses and not look back. We seek what's pleasant, but we should be seeking God. I think if we know that if we listened–really listened–to the Holy Spirit, we'd lose a lot of comfort. We think that's the thing we want to avoid most, but somewhere inside, isn't there a place in us that yearns for the challenge of hard-core obedience?

It's the thing inside us that makes us watch reality shows where people push themselves for a goal. It's the reason people spend hours cheering on the favorite teams or playing video games. We were made for battle, but we've condemned ourselves to being warriors on the couch, settling for cheap imitations of significance.

I don't want to be a powerless Christ-follower. I want in the game. I want to go where He leads, sacrifice and endure and work for whatever plan He has for me.

I want the risk.