being a Christian

I Don’t Like Being a Christian and Neither Do You

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God’s will, my boundaries, pure selflessness. We may think, “Lord, yes!  I love you.  Any thing for you Lord.”
I had a dream many years ago. In the dream there was a simple grid, a solid line that ran between one to three. I also saw a red dotted line that ran between seven to ten. In the dream I knew I was looking at a Christian life as truly lived.  The red line represented where we thought we were in following our Lord.  The solid line represented reality.

The longer I am a Christian, the less I want to be one.  Blasphemy, you say!  Are we not to go from glory to glory? Yeah, that’s the problem. When we come to Christ we see the Son of God lifted up.  We chant, He loves me!  Oh, how He loves me!  In fact, I still see Him and love the chant. I love the selfless love of God when applied to me. In fact it is wonderful!  “Father forgive them, they know not what they do.” What I did not say, in the title, is that I like Jesus. Holy God, how could I not love Him as person, pure mercy, pure love, humble power beyond imagination. What is their not to love?  He is the personification of love itself.

What I said, and still say, is I don’t like being a Christian. What is it to be a Christian?  I mean really what is it?  If done by the intention of God, it is you hanging on a cross, while men could care less, and say from the bowels, “forgive them Father, they know not what they do.”

Many never even make it past the garden of God.  One drop of blood on the brow and they run for their lives. If I were honest, as far as I can tell, many never even get to the garden where Judas awaits. To those who cannot relate to my post, who see it as something strange, you have three options–you are either a novice, been purified to the point of a Saint incarnated, or you are a follower of yourself with a Jesus name tag. How many self-willed selfish souls say: “God I love you so much if my will be done, otherwise I’m happy to be a wannabe son of God.”

To be a little Christ hurts like hell. It is the worst, most abusive enterprise of my life. To love those who abuse you, to go places where you’re not wanted for the Father’s will.  To lay down your boundaries, ideals, convictions, sense of justice, or what is fair for the sake of the immeasurable mercy of God applied to your entire life. In other words for you to die daily, to be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect, and do it in such a way that in the doing you are really doing nothing but being a Christian. Doing it in love as if it was as natural as the cow chewing the cud, doing it with no thought of self or reward. No, “God lets make a deal, if I walk two miles Lord what will you do for me?  If I give the other cheek Lord what will you give me?”

And He says, “I already gave it, remember?  You are going to learn to be Me even if it kills you.”  And friends it will.  If it does not, you are not doing it. Completely dead to self and alive to God in Christ Jesus the Lord!  Oh how it is so easy to say.  I even feel the sweetness of the Holy Spirit when I say it.  But when applied to time, space, and reality, I find something wanting, namely me.  I like the thought of being a Christian.  I like the recollection of a loving Christ. What I have yet to really know with any kind of consistency is the joy of the passion of Steve.