On Getting Carried Away

On Getting Carried Away--January 31, 2017

 

"Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves. Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others.  Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus….” [Philippians 2:3-5]

 

Let’s get carried away, shall we?

 

All this month, we’ve come back again and again to the idea of the Christian life being like a sailboat voyage, pushed and powered by the wind of the Spirit, rather than by the huffing and puffing and bluster of our own self-centered willpower.  We have imagined that, just like the wind blows a ship in a certain broad direction, the followers of Jesus are (to the extent that we are really filled with the Spirit and not our own hot air) being directed on a certain course—a way of life we call the Reign of God, or the Kingdom. 

 

And much as a crew that seeks to get to the eastern shore of the lake will (obviously) head east from the opposite side to get there, the followers of Jesus who hope for the Kingdom coming in its fullness are dared to live “in that direction” in the mean time—that is, we practice unconditional love NOW because we are oriented toward that day when unconditional love fills ALL things, and we practice forgiveness NOW because we are looking ahead to the day when ALL things are reconciled before God in the new creation. 

 

Well, ok, if that picture is in your head—a wind-filled sail that pushes your boat on a certain course toward a certain destination—then in a very real sense, your goal is, quite literally, to get carried away.  A sailboat is carried, not by its own power, but by the borrowed momentum it gets from the wind.  Like a leaf being carried on the breeze in fall, or a tuft of dandelion seed on a clear August afternoon, except that a sailboat is bigger—but the same principle is at work.  The wind carries you along.  Your hope, if you are in a sailboat, rather than a motorboat or a rowboat, say, is to get carried away.

 

I mention this because, even apart from nautical metaphors, the life of Jesus’ followers is a life of getting carried away.  That’s what it’s all about.  Getting carried away with the mercy of God.

 

I say that in direct opposition to those voices—both around us and within us—that want to say, “Stop! No! Be reasonable—we have to look out for ourselves!  Don’t get carried away with the love of God and the mercy of Jesus!”  You know those voices, don’t you?  They are, indeed, sometimes around you, and they sometimes have the strangely familiar timbre of your own voice.  We tell ourselves, “We don’t want to get carried away here…” as an excuse not to take Jesus’ call and way of life too seriously.  No, no, no—that just might mess with our plans or our comfort.

 

So often, those voices start out sounding sympathetic. “Yes, we ALL should want to live RESPECTABLE, godly lives.  Yes, of course, sure, we all need RELIGION.  Yes, we need more public postings of the Ten Commandments to remind people of good old-fashioned morality.”  And at that point, you may think, “Oh, good—this is someone seeking to live in light of the Reign of God!  This voice will help me to listen for the voice of Jesus—clearly this person is truly seeking for the direction of the Spirit!”  And if it is our own voice, we pat ourselves on the back for being so spiritually-minded and sensible.  “What a fine example I am to those awful people down the street me, who don’t even go to church at all….”

 

Ah, but the moment that the path of Jesus heads into self-sacrifice… or vulnerability… or danger… or a risk to my comfort and security… all of that “God-talk” comes to an end.  And you know what comes next?  Five faithless words: “Let’s not get carried away….”

 

What?  Jesus said to love our enemies and pray for those who most persecute and hate us?  Whoa, whoa, whoa—let’s not get carried away here.

 

Hold on—Jesus went out of his way to welcome… and heal… and include… those who were the wrong religion, or ethnicity, or nationality (I’m thinking of a certain Samaritan ex-leper, a nameless woman at the well, a Roman centurion, a Gentile man who had been plagued by demons and forced to live in the graveyard in chains… and on and on and on)?  No, that doesn’t sound right.  Jesus must be mistaken—love and charity and kindness are for safe people… you know, people like me… people who will not pose a threat to me or my way of thinking.  Let’s not get carried away here…

 

Wait a second—Jesus put the needs of others (who might never say thank you to him!) so far ahead of his own needs that he was willing to get strung up by the empire rather than save his own hide?  Well, I’m kind of comfortable in my own little world… let’s not get carried away here…

 

So often, we hear “religious” voices (and sadly, they are many times our own voices, speaking back to us from the mirror) say things like, “I’m all for being loving, but it’s just not reasonable to take that risk—let’s not get carried away here!  It’s fine to give money to the local homeless shelter, but… well, I can’t be asked to actually give up my time and comfort zone to share a meal with a homeless family!  It’s ok to pray for people in other countries who are having a hard time (because, I think, deep down, some part of us doesn’t think God will do anything with that prayer, or least that God won’t do anything with that prayer that affects us), but… well, I don’t want to have those people in my neighborhood!”

 

You know how those conversations go—they always start by insisting they are all in favor of listening for God’s direction, but the moment there is risk, or vulnerability, or the possibility of not being in control… they stop dead in the tracks and say, “But Jesus can’t seriously expect me to sacrifice my safety for other people, can he?  Christ can’t expect me to risk my reputation, can he?  The Spirit can’t expect to lead me to do something that might delay my retirement age or raise my taxes or make room for a stranger, can he?”

 

Jesus wouldn’t ask me to put the needs of a stranger ahead of my own, would he?  Jesus wouldn’t expect me to consider others’ needs more pressing than mine, would he?

 

Yes.  Yes, he would.  Yes, he can.  Yes, he does. 

 

The unmistakable call from the New Testament is just that—to have the same mind in us as Christ Jesus had in his years of welcoming outsiders, healing ungrateful strangers, and loving his enemies all the way to a cross. Either we get that, or we don’t.  Either we are willing to let Jesus call us beyond our comfort zones the way he went beyond his, or we should quit pretending we are “religious” people after all, and we should just call ourselves “self-centered and wanting to be respectable.” But Jesus calls our bluff every time—we don’t get to say we are “Christian” or “pro-Christ” if we do not intend to let Jesus lead us into the same places he went… and that may well mean risking our comfort and our routine for the well-being of others, or welcome of people we are a little bit apprehensive about, or love for people who will be ungrateful and unappreciative.   Before we dare to suggest that Jesus wouldn’t push us beyond the realm of conventional wisdom, we should look at where Jesus actually went.

 

Jesus got carried away.  He expects nothing less from us, his followers.

 

Lord Jesus, let us get carried away with you today.