My Message to Men Who Find It Hard to Follow Jesus

The most difficult thing for human beings to understand …

It’s that time of year again — 24 hours of TV Christmas movies for the next month or more. You can rest assured that yours truly won’t spend a minute watching them, but Miss Kay, on the other hand, can’t seem to get enough of them.  

Me? I prefer the old Westerns. Clint Eastwood in “The Outlaw Josey Wales” is a good one. After his family is murdered by Union soldiers, his character sets out to avenge them by brutally killing those responsible for their deaths. 

After almost 60 years of marriage, I have come to one conclusion: Women love movies that make them cry, and men are drawn to narratives that tell the story of a fearless and avenging hero.

We sure do love our heroes, no question about it. And perhaps this explains the reluctance that a lot of people have to embrace the Jesus narrative. While it is true that scriptures like the book of Revelation do paint the resurrected Jesus as an avenging hero, the gospels portray him here on earth as almost an antihero figure — the exact opposite of Josey Wales.

Think about it! Who would expect the creator of the cosmos to say that he didn’t come to be served but to serve and give his life as a ransom for many? (Mark 10:41-45) Who would expect the Holy Spirit to inspire Paul to say that even though Jesus was by nature God, he emptied himself and became one of us in order to serve us? (Philippians 2:7)

God as a servant? That goes against what we would expect, doesn’t it?

In Mark 11:1-11, we find the story of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem just before his murder. He straddled a donkey, and as he came into town, the people were lining the streets with palm branches yelling:

“Hosanna!
‘Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!’
Blessed is the kingdom of our father David
That comes in the name of the Lord!
Hosanna in the highest!”

I don’t know about you, but this isn’t how I visualize heroes. My heroes are like John Wayne, riding proud on a large stallion with his pistols hanging loosely by his side and a carbine in his hands. 

But Jesus? He first appeared in humility as a vulnerable newborn in a stable, worked as a carpenter, and in this passage, he makes his final approach to the temple riding a small colt. He knew that he was riding to his appointment with the cross, and he knew that the praise of the people was fickle. Before too many hours would pass, this same bunch would be yelling out to Pilate, “Crucify him! Crucify him!”

The most difficult thing for humans to understand is that even though he had legions of angels at his disposal, he still went through with the cross. But why would a man who has the fierce army of God at his disposal willingly allow people to mistreat him this way? 

Josey Wales wouldn’t have done that, would he? But Jesus did. He was strong but chose not to exercise power. Instead, he chose love. He chose servanthood. 

Contrast Jesus (who chose humility and weakness) with those who killed him: They were weak but were willing to do whatever they could to get power. They did whatever they could do to project strength. In the process, they killed the only one who could help them. 

The life that Jesus chose to live is the life that he calls us to live. One that chooses to recognize our weakness and to seek the power of a sacrificial life that depends on God’s power instead. Paul understood this. In 2 Corinthians 12, he recalls persistently praying for God to change something in his life that tormented him. While we don’t know what his problem was, we do know that he called it a “thorn in the flesh.” We also know that God’s answer to him was plain: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” 

Paul understood what the Lord was telling him, that the pathway to true power is actually in embracing our weakness. He said, “Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.” Paul did not say this as a way of excusing his sin but to put himself in the position to be transformed by God’s power. God won’t work with a person who can’t see how hopeless he is without him. 

The irony of ironies is that the one who had no weakness, the one who possessed all of the power, became weak for us. He came to serve us! He chose a donkey over a stallion! He washed feet and touched lepers! He chose an inner circle of fishermen, tax-collectors, and rabble-rousers! He loved the unlovable! 

I will gladly follow a god like Jesus. Since he has been where I am, I am confident that he understands my struggle with my flesh. Since he humbled himself enough to die for me, I know that he’s not going to quickly cast me into the darkness. He came to save me from my own sin, so my hope is in him.

Image credit: John Wayne Facebook Page