Jesus Isn't Decaf (By Naomi Meyers)

Several years ago we lived in a community surrounding a 125-acre lake. It was a beautiful place. Perfect for a walk along the shore, a wedding, a photography session, or an idyllic canoe ride. Lake usage and upkeep was vigorously regulated. One day I opened my e-mail to find a mass message from the homeowner’s association. Apparently someone’s boat had been left unsecured and was now drifting in the middle of the lake. Attached was a photograph of a sad little vessel, desperately in need of repairs. We didn’t own a boat and hadn’t been on the lake. I deleted the message. A few days later, a second e-mail blinked into my inbox. A kind resident had rescued the boat and secured it to a dock. The owners still needed to come pick it up. I had doubts that would happen. 

A couple of weeks went by, I forgot the sad little boat needing rescue. Others didn’t forget. The homeowner’s association is nothing if not tenacious. A third and final e-mail arrived, sterner than the others. There was a date by which pickup must be made. If not done as requested, the boat would be added to the fleet managed by the association and loaned out to boatless residents. Apparently that is what happened. I never heard anything else. Maybe I missed an e-mail. Or maybe I was too absorbed in Hebrews 2:1. Maybe I was too busy making a correlation between that drifting boat and the drifting of our souls. Maybe I couldn’t help but think how we need to heed the things God has commanded and called us to do lest we, like that boat, end up worse for wear and drifting around unattended. 

It’s been a few years since I thought about that boat. As I contemplated the things God has spoken into my heart recently, that boat came back to mind. It’s the mindless drifting that gets me, stops me, scares me. I see so much drifting. Drifting away from truth. Drifting toward a lesser way, toward a more socially acceptable faith. Drifting into complacency, doubt, and sin. Drifting away from the Bible. Drifting away from God.  

My heart feels it too–the urge to drift, the temptation to draw in the oars and float along. Pray less. Indulge more. Follow the crowd. The suggestion to subscribe to “Jesus light”, diet spirituality, regularly pounds at my door. Perhaps it is that same suggestion that causes me to turn and, fighting the currents, find my way back to what I know to be true, back to the basics of my faith, back to the first and greatest commandment. Love God. Love Him above all else. Love Him more than anyone or anything else. Love the Lord your God with every fiber of your being. (Matthew 22:37-38)

We don’t hear a lot about this first and greatest commandment anymore. It’s unfortunate. We used to hear more about it. More about loving God to the exclusion of everything. More about putting God first. We needed to hear it then. We need it more now. We have been drawn aside by the cacophony and caterwauling of the world. Like the Laodicean church mentioned in Revelation, we have gotten comfortable in our First World lifestyles and forgotten the first commandment. (Revelation 3:15-17) Relying on past faithfulness and ignoring current faithlessness, we are drifting along, certain we are fine. 

We are not fine. Drifting never is. Drifting is what got the church of Ephesus rebuked. They didn’t start out that way. They started out strong. Hard work. Endurance. Patience. No tolerance for evil. Suffering for God without giving up. They had done a lot of good things. But they got distracted. Maybe they got tired. Maybe they became complacent. Maybe the voice of the world got so loud it started to drown out the Voice of Truth. Regardless of what happened, the result was the same. They drifted. They left their first love. (Revelation 2:2-5) 

Before you shake your head in disgust and disbelief over their drifting hearts. Take a look inside yourself, your circle, your church. We have done the same. We are drifting along on a form of godliness, but not the real thing. We have been lulled into believing the outside is more important than the inside, that works are exalted over grace. We have left our first love. We have strayed. We have drifted. We are in trouble. 

It makes me wonder how we would stand up to the questioning Jesus gave to Peter, asking not once, but three times, “Do you love me?” In the past, Peter has proven his inability to stick. He seems a bit of a loose cannon. He acts without thinking. (Luke 22:50) He vows vehemently. (Matthew 26:35) He denies unequivocally. (Luke 22:54-60) He weeps bitterly. (Luke 22:62) Peter doesn’t do anything halfheartedly. So here, on the shore, having breakfast with the resurrected Jesus and hearing the question in triplicate, Peter is hurt, even frustrated, by the line of questioning, “Lord, you know my heart. You know I love you!” 

And there’s the sticking point for us. We can dress ourselves up, act a certain way, use the right jargon, and trick the world into thinking we love Jesus, but it stops there. God knows our hearts. (Psalm 44:21) All of them. Every part. He knows what we love more than Him. He knows what draws us aside, what makes us drift. He sees how we react to His word, His prodding. He knows how we will respond to His voice. He sees. He knows. Yet still, He asks the question, “Do you love me?”

Like Peter, we immediately answer, “Of course I love You!” But do we? Do we love Jesus? Do we love Him more than all our first world possessions? Do we love Him more than opinions and social status? Do we love Him more than we desire renown or recognition? Do we love Jesus enough to throw all our ideas, desires, destinations and diatribes away and simply follow Him? Do our hearts love Him, crave Him? Do we love Jesus more than anything, more than everything, more than life itself? Do we love Him enough to dedicate our lives to feeding His sheep? Are we First Commandment people?

  It’s a sobering question. Being First Commandment people is not popular. It will not make you famous. It will not make you rich. It will not be easy. It will be worth it. Loving God above all else means keeping all His commandments. Happily. No whining, moaning, or complaining. No hedging. Nothing half-hearted. It means victory over the pull of the world, over the complacency of drifting. It means when Jesus asks you “the question”, you can open up your heart with nothing to hide and respond in kind with Peter, “Lord, you know my heart. You know I love you!” And it will be true. (I John 5:3-5)

 This is the desperate cry of my heart. I want to love Jesus more than anything, more than everything. I want no part of pared down Christ-following.  I’m not interested in drifting unattended, being pushed around by social currents, or being docked where I don’t belong. I hope you aren’t either. There’s no time for it. The whole world is full of desperation and angst, calling out to know, to see, to feel God’s love. We have the opportunity to love Jesus so completely, to follow Him so wholeheartedly, that every aspect of our lives is an echo of His love and intention toward lost humanity. We have the amazing opportunity to be First Commandment people.

Will you do it? Will you choose to be a First Commandment person? I hope so. With the world pulling your affections in a million different directions, I hope you choose to set them on Heavenly things. (Colossians 3:2) At a time when drifting is lauded, I hope you pick up the oars and paddle strong and steady back to your First Love. When we are being told on every side that we can be anything we want to be, I hope you choose to be a Jesus follower. I hope you choose Him above all else. I hope you fall desperately in love with Him. I hope your soul follows hard after Him. (Psalm 63:8) I hope, as you snuggle down in your First World easy chair, you make the concrete choice to stop drifting, stop floating, stop dawdling and fully embark on the voyage of being First Commandment people. (John 14:15)