Faith is not a matter of convenience. If anything, the demands God makes on our lives are quite inconvenient. And yes, God does make demands.
God doesn’t just ask, he commands me to forgive people who are hard to forgive. Talk about inconvenient! The awkward conversations and change of heart required by this can be tumultuous. In fact, it’s pretty much guaranteed to turn me upside down. But ultimately this will prove to be a good thing. Really.
God is a truth-teller and demands I be one too. The one whose words put the world together and hold it together asks that my words have a similar integrity to them. And that’s downright inconvenient. There are so many times when half-truths and non-truths and truth avoidance would be so much easier, so simpler in the short term. But God has something better in mind. He has a solid world, a good world in mind, a world built on real people whose words are real words and who thereby live real lives. Besides, truths are so much easier to keep track of in the long run than lies.
God kept the first Sabbath not because he was so tired he needed to rest, but as an invitation for us afterward to join him in it. And rest can be so inconvenient. Sabbaths show up each week whether I want them to or not. They stand in the way like stop signs, slowing me down when I want to pick up speed. What a bother! When I’m plowing headfirst through my list of to-do items, the last thing I want is to have God hold up a hand and tell me to quit. I want to do what I want to do and when I want to do it. But he wants to restore my basic humanity to me, keeping me from reducing myself to the functions I can do.
And then there is the most inconvenient thing of all. God is love and calls me to love. Love is an outward impulse, drawing me toward others and their needs. It acts in direct contradiction to my inward impulse which focuses on my wants and needs and feelings. What I’d really like is to settle in to protracted me-time. I like things the best when they circle around me like planets. But that kind of I-am-God-of-my-own-life kind of living not only dehumanizes me, it ruins my relationships with both God and others. Despite being difficult and requiring energy from me, loving others feeds me without consuming anyone or anything in the process. Though requiring humility, love ends up with glory — first the cross, then the ascension — this is the Jesus way.
Thank you, Lord. I need your inconveniences.