In His Steps - Reflections on Following Jesus

For God called you to do good, even if it means suffering, just as Christ suffered for you. He is your example, and you must follow in his steps. (1 Peter 2: 21)

The call to “Follow Jesus” has turned up in my reading several times this week, and I've been reflecting on the notion. In the New Testament of course, it’s the invitation to the disciples – many of them fishermen – who when asked to ‘follow’ had to literally leave behind their normal work pattern and spend their years with this engaging craftsman rabbi who offered uncommon wisdom and extraordinary love. We don’t know how this this affected their families, or bosses, but they don’t seem to have been alienated from society by their decision to follow. Peter still had his brother, and at home a mother-in-law, and at times their entourage was joined by women of faith,  some of whom provided financial support. (Luke 8: 1 – 3)  Some disciples owned businesses that may have been able to carry on without them. Clearly Matthew gave up his taxman role, but he may have used his skills in other ways to support the group. It was a matter of priorities and loyalty; and it is for us too.

When I first made a decision for Christ in my teens, being “a follower of Jesus” wasn’t the language we used. It was about becoming a Christian, or inviting Jesus into your heart. The verse used at the Easter Camp where I responded to the ‘altar call’ was John 1: 12 – "To all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave the power to become children of God." I had always known Jesus as a friend and guide, but now I believed (trusted) in his work on the Cross for me, and had gratefully received his resurrection power to change my life. And he did, mostly in subtle ways, as I didn’t have a dissolute lifestyle or lots of sins to confess. I was the minister’s daughter! Nevertheless, I had asked Jesus into my life to be “Resident Boss." That meant what he cared about now mattered to me. Decisions I had to make were to be prayerfully offered and thoughtfully discerned, in light of my growing knowledge of Scripture and theology. Within a few years I cautiously responded to God’s call to ministry which became clearer over time, and later my vocation flourished as I developed gifts of teaching and leadership in serving others.

Over the years I found the notion of being a follower of Jesus came more into focus for me. In my thirties, I was challenged by an old book by Charles Sheldon, who in the late nineteenth century wrote a serial story for his Sunday night church meetings. It was about a church that decided to take seriously the Biblical injunction to follow in his steps.  (1 Peter 2: 21). The story became a bestselling religious fiction novel and eventually sold more than 50 million copies.  It is usually just called In His Steps, but the full title of the book is ‘In His Steps: What Would Jesus Do?’ The phrase "What would Jesus do?" has actually been used by Christians for centuries. The idea of  copying Jesus is the basis of the fifteenth century spiritual classic Imitation of Christ where Saint Thomas a Kempis wrote: “Whoever will understand the words of Christ plainly must conform all his life to that of Christ”. 

In Sheldon’s 1896 novel, members of a middle-class church in the US are challenged by a dying tramp to live out their faith, and both minister and parishioners  pledge themselves to live for one year asking themselves, "What would Jesus do?" Their experiences of suffering, ridicule and discovery inspire other churches throughout the country to do the same.  Of course the idea of imitation is implicit in discipleship. When bracelets and bibles emblazoned with WWJD became trendy (and then mocked)  most of us found it can be a depressing exercise. We do become like the people with whom we associate, but to fully imitate the only sinless person in human history is an impossible ideal.  And Jesus didn’t in fact say Copy Me, he said Follow Me. At heart,  the gospel is not about what we do. Focussing on deeds means we can slip into a works-based righteousness, thinking we get brownie points for doing good deeds. To try and be like Jesus in every way is so far from possible it would become an intolerable burden. Our only hope is if he offers to live his life through us. 

In my years as a parish minister, I learned a new word – ‘formation’. Its from the Catholic tradition and is based on the notion of us becoming like Christ, not just in deeds but in spirituality and character. If we know the stories and sayings of  Jesus well, we become more aware of what he would do, or prefer us to do. His Spirit works in us shaping our character, our values, our worship and prayer; perhaps the Protestant word for formation was sanctification. I’ve been a member of the Baptist movement (alongside my Presbyterian ordination and first loyalty) for fifteen years now and I’ve noticed that Baptists in particular talk a lot about being a follower of Jesus. They rarely say ”I’m a Christian” and seldom describe themselves as “a Baptist”.  I like that alternative , and over years of exposure I’ve found I now use that "following" language myself.  Another phrase I try to emulate comes from the Methodist minister Tom Bandy, who always says “the church where I follow Jesus” or “the community where I serve Jesus” when he’s talking about his congregation. It’s humble and participatory, and intensely Biblical.

Some say being a disciple is not so much about imitating the Master as about being one who does what the Master requires (Matthew 21: 28 - 31) . There is a good deal of truth in this, for following Jesus does have a profound impact on how we live. But when you look at what Jesus actually said about the Kingdom lifestyle, you have to wonder at those who say they live by Jesus’ teachings. Take, for example, the Sermon on the Mount. – which people frequently tell me they take as their lodestar. That message called the disciples to live with extraordinary righteousness, respect, sexual fidelity, covenant loyalty, integrity, kindness, hospitality and generosity. One writer reckons anyone who actually lived/loved like that would be hated to death. Claims to live entirely by the Sermon on the Mount are simply unsupportable. The ethic of Jesus requires a complete transformation, and commitment to discipleship just sees us make a start on that in the ‘already but not yet’ Kingdom Jesus described. But to make that start means we need a resource beyond that with which we are naturally endowed; without a relationship with Jesus, these commands are an impossible burden.

We should of course try to imitate Jesus and put his commands and character into practice in our daily life. But we don’t want to be like the elder brother in Jesus’ parable, who had worked hard and done his duty, but perhaps did not really know his father. He was like the girl I went to seminary with, who loved the Bible and church history and even worship in a sort of abstract sense, but just couldn’t resonate with my ‘Jesus my Lord and Friend’ stuff. I used to say to her “You are more of a Jew than Christian” and she didn’t understand what I meant. Then two years after graduation she went through a low season and ended up walking into a Pentecostal church where she was thoroughly converted, baptised and filled with the Spirit. She now understood in reality what she had only heard about before. Jesus was no longer someone she simply obeyed, he had become part of her lived experience.

And that’s the reality of discipleship. A relationship where we taste some of Jesus’ experiences – including suffering - and allow him to share ours. Where his character shapes our daily existence. Where we live because he lives in us (Gal 2: 20). You might recall that definition of a saint as being like a stained glass window – ‘someone the light shines through’. Well, that’s the effect discipleship will have as Jesus lives out his resurrection life in us. When people look at us they see something of the image of Christ – his likeness, into which Paul said we will be transformed with ever-increasing glory. (2 Cor 3: 17f)ref. That inner glow will not be transient like Moses, whose face only shone temporarily when he had been with God, but a lasting change, a radiance that reveals Christ to others.

He does indeed make all things new. The kernel of discipleship is not standards, examples or commands but what Thomas Chalmers called “the expulsive power of a new affection”, the inundation of our ordinary experience with the love of Jesus. This life of discipleship is an internal revolution that cannot help but impact our everyday experience. That is the Spirit’s work but he needs our cooperation. Discipleship isn’t about copying the Jesus we read of in the gospels, or about complying with a list of instructions. Its about his living presence shining out through me, and making him known to others.

I was reminded this week that Peter had two times of being asked by Jesus “Follow Me.” First by the lake, the call to be a fisher of men. And later, after his disastrous denial, when Jesus called him again with love and promise – “Follow Me and I will use you to lead my church”. 

Here’s another story of someone being called again, from Chapter 15 of Brian McLaren’s book A New Kind of Christian, updated a few years ago:

 (Pastor Dan) I told Carol that I had reached a decision about my future. She kept looking down at her boots shuffling through the snow.

“Carol, before, I saw only two alternatives ……… but (mentor) Neo has helped me see a third alternative, one that would be more courageous, more honest, and more pleasing to God…. I wonder if I could become a new kind of Christian and I could try to lead (our) church in that new path too.”

Carol was still looking down, but I could detect a smile at the corner of her mouth. I continued, “I don’t want to try this unless you feel good about it too. I don’t know where this path will lead. It’s like we’ve come to the edge of the map, and all familiar paths are behind us, but a new world is out there ahead of us. …maybe if we travel on together, we can make some new discoveries, and help each other, and—”

Carol stopped walking and looked up toward the next street light. “It’s kind of like the snow tonight, isn’t it, Dan? There aren’t any footprints to follow, but there’s light ahead, and there’s a certain beauty in it all.”

Following Jesus - not so much In His Steps, but By his Light. 

To ponder: Have you experienced a invitation to follow not footprints, but light ahead? Tell someone about it.

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