Would You Even Like Jesus?

by Jonathan

Would you even like Jesus?

Would you like him if he came into your church and started yelling about houses of prayer? Or would you call him just another angry man?

Would you like him if he told you to sell even some of your stuff and give the proceeds to the poor? Or would you call him a socialist?

Would you like him if he told you to stop sleeping with people you weren’t married to? Or would you call him a legalist?

What if you realized he wasn’t a Republican?

Or a Democrat?

Or white?

Would you like him if you found him crying by himself on a hillside, talking about a rebellious city? Or would you call him an emotional wreck?

I don’t know, would I even like him?

What about the time he let those guys chop up an innocent man’s roof?

Would you like it if he hadn’t planned ahead and all of a sudden asked you to feed a few thousand people?

What would you think when he dozed off during a life-threatening storm?

He is not as tame as we make him, after all.

Would you like him when he let the prostitute get a little too close? Or would you start to wonder about his dedication to purity?

Would you like him when he befriended your political enemy, visiting his house and sharing a meal? Or would that be a red (or blue) line crossed?

You see, we sanitize and sanctify Jesus, stripping him of context and personality, until he looks (we think) like us.

But he’s not like us. Thank God.

So, would you like him?

What if he showed up in your deepest pain and you saw his eyes, red with mercy and compassion? Would you like him then?

What if you heard him cry, “Forgive them!” And you knew he was talking about you? Would you like him then?

Would you run to him, grasping his sleeve for acceptance and love?

He’d let you.

He’d love you.

He’d heal you.

After all, he liked you first.

photo-1522774832635-430f6deecd28

He’s just a…

He’s just a carpenter. A blue-collared day laborer. And he’s the one who builds mountains and stars.

He’s just a carpenter. A townie, a long long ways from cosmopolitan. And he’s the King of kings.

But he’s just a carpenter, uneducated, the son of nobodies. And he’s the dearly loved son of the Father.

The crowds are blind, eyes filled to the brim with scoffing, incredulous. They can’t see beyond their own limiting words.

It is true. He is a carpenter. But he is not just a carpenter. He is so much more.

And by his grace, we are too.

We are not just sinners.
We are not just failures.
We are not just inadequate.

We are loved.
We are saved.
We are sought after and enjoyed by our God.

So when people see us and laugh, saying we’re “just a” whatever, we smile and nod and run to Jesus.

And there we sit among the wood chips, remnants of a Roman cross, and we belly laugh with the Carpenter who saved the world.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jesus left that part of the country and returned with his disciples to Nazareth, his hometown. The next Sabbath he began teaching in the synagogue, and many who heard him were amazed. They asked, “Where did he get all this wisdom and the power to perform such miracles?” Then they scoffed, “He’s just a carpenter, the son of Mary and the brother of James, Joseph, Judas, and Simon. And his sisters live right here among us.” They were deeply offended and refused to believe in him. 
Mark 6:1-3

andrej-lisakov-545642-unsplash

Avoiding Platitudes, Accepting Influence, and Loving Jesus (John 11:1-44)

Last Sunday I had the privilege of preaching at the ICF here in Phnom Penh, Cambodia.

To listen to the message, click here, or view on iTunes.

We looked at how Jesus allowed his emotions to be influenced (by a woman!), we talked about platitudes and why to NEVER use them, and we considered the different ways Jesus empathized with Mary and Martha.

He mirrored each woman and responded very uniquely, in fact.

We also talked about the one thing we must remember for this story to make sense: I am NOT the center of Christ’s universe. The Father is. Christ’s love for me is secondary and derivative. His primary goal is NOT to relieve my suffering or heal my disease.

So, although he loves, he sometimes “stays.”

— Jonathan T.

 

church-pews-2401405_960_720

What Jesus Knew About Death and how that Helped Him Live

Recorded at ICF in Phnom Penh, Cambodia, July 2017.

To listen to the message, Click Here or visit the trotters41 podcast on iTunes.

Some excerpts:

  • How we think about death massively impacts how we live our life.
  • Part of learning how to live like Christ is thinking about death like Christ.
  • A funeral doesn’t stay a funeral for very long when Jesus shows up.
  • From the beginning, Satan has always lied about death. He still does.

When the Resurrection and the Life shows up at a funeral, death dies and corpses rise.