Canceling Jesus

Today we’d “cancel” Jesus. Let’s just be honest.

It’s why I resist the various ideological depictions of Jesus, those false Christs both right and left. Because they’re each in their own way selective reductions or reconfigurations of the real Jesus of Nazareth, the radical Jew who got himself crucified. Each of us likely Christ would offend, because he bluntly names our sins, telling us what we don’t want to hear, what we prefer to ignore.

Hence our desire to interpret away some of Jesus’s harder sayings, like some of those things he said in the Sermon on the Mount. When Jesus talks about anger, divorce and adultery, and oaths, for instance, we don’t like it, so we politely ignore it, or, better, follow some clever commentator who explains it safely away. Which is how we tame Jesus, making him a messiah we can control, who won’t tell us no. Because, of course, we prefer control over salvation.

Now I am not saying the Gospel isn’t to be interpreted. I am simply suggesting that the first step, before the work of interpretation begins, is obedience. Before we can learn and apply the teachings of Jesus, we must be willing to be obedient to him; he’ll have it no other way. We can’t enclose Jesus within lines we demand he not cross; rather, we must be perfectly ready for Jesus to confront, challenge, and convict every assumption we hold dear, every culturally conditioned thought. That is, we must be able to let Jesus tell us we’re wrong. Otherwise, it’s not Jesus we’re following, but ourselves in shallow religious disguise.

And so, listen to those very hard parts of Gospel. And then keep listening. And do indeed be bothered; don’t try to explain away the shock. Just pray with it. And pray for the humility to be obedient before you pray for understanding. Because that’s when Jesus will finally teach you, when you’re obedient, revealing his truth. Which is what will finally set you free.