Become more childlike

Reading passages like today’s was always interesting to me. As Jesus knew he was nearing the end of his life, and as his popularity and movement were gaining followers, rather than lower the bar to attract more people, he raised the bar to make sure he wasn’t attracting half-hearted followers who wanted to be a part of a movement, but not necessarily the movement. It has interested me because it defies traditional wisdom, even wisdom that we often hear in churches. How does this speak to our church vision of being a church where the non- and nominally religious are coming to God?

I’m actually reminded of one of my heroes of the faith, Soren Kierkegaard, a Danish philosopher and theologian. Kierkegaard lived in Denmark in a time when Christianity seemed to be in its prime. Not only the citizens, but the government was deeply Christian, and they officially declared Denmark to be a Christian nation—you would be Christian simply by the virtue of being born there. That right there—or, rather, his reaction to it—became the basis of a lot of Kierkegaard’s writing.

Kierkegaard argued that personal choice was foundational in Christianity, perhaps even the most foundational part. In a nation where everyone seemed to be pushing to make it easier to be a Christian, Kierkegaard argued that it should instead be harder. What weight does a person’s faith have when it costs nothing? Without knowing the cost and choosing it anyway, Christianity loses a lot of its meaning.

Jesus’ actions in today’s passage, and at other times near the end of his life, do not contradict his message of inclusivity and accessibility in faith. Rather, they speak to a different demographic. The people typically excluded from faith have always known there was a cost to it, and they were frequently reminded that they could not pay for it. Pharisees liked to remind others that they were not as holy as the pharisees, but we see similar behavior in today’s passage when John asked Jesus if they should stop others from doing good because they weren’t a part of God’s inner circle, as they saw themselves.

So rather than talk to the people who were told they couldn’t afford to be in God’s inner circle, Jesus instead spoke to people who never questioned being a part of it. The power of privilege in religion is never having to ask the cost of it. Much like Denmark told its citizens that they were automatically Christian just from being born there, a lot of us rarely have to grapple with the cost of Christianity. There’s a reason so many people in crisis experience life-changing encounters with God: they’re aware of the cost of that choice in a way that some of us will never experience.

Now, this is absolutely not supposed to turn into a contest of who gave up the most for God. That’s just another way of excluding others from God’s inner circle. But the duality of Jesus talking about the inclusivity of his message and the cost of true faith in God is that there needs to be a balance in everyone’s life. Passages like this one in Luke remind us that, despite how much we may consider ourselves to be a part of God’s inner circle, we also have to be aware of the costs. Everyone who wants to be a part of God’s kingdom can be, absolutely, but Jesus suggests here that, if you’re doing it right, there is a choice to make, and that can mean choosing your faith over other things, including family responsibilities, money, work, or a number of other things we hold tightly. So what is your faith costing you? If the answer is nothing, ask why. There are times for certainty, and there are times for sacrifice; make sure you have some of both in your faith.