Jesus Isn't Decaf (By Naomi Meyers)

A minister once stood before a chapel full of students and, speaking of Heaven, declared, “I want an abundant entrance.” I’ve sat under too many preachers to remember his name, heard too many sermons to remember every sentence, but this particular phrase has been unforgettable. So was his meaning. That man of God wasn’t speaking of a private dream for angels to line the streets and play his personal theme song on golden trumpets as his entrance was announced over a loudspeaker. He was not anticipating confetti filling the air, congratulatory saints of yore slapping his back, or people chanting his name. He had no delusions of celebrity status upon arrival. This was not his meaning.  

He wasn’t interested in slipping through the gate just before it clicked closed, either. He had no time for question marks about his eternity. He was wholly opposed to reaching Heaven’s gate to find the angels frantically searching the Book of Life, hoping to find his name. No. He wanted that eternal entrance to be a testament of how he lived his earthly life. The angelic gate guards would know him on sight. There would be no hesitation over whether he belonged. He would be welcomed into the joy of His Lord. Jesus would welcome him home. It would be a glorious entrance. A victorious entrance. An entrance like Stephen’s. 

Stephen’s entrance must have been fantastic! Following a pointed indictment of the stiff-necked and rebellious people of his generation, Stephen comes under attack by the enraged congregation. Knowing there was only one place to look for guidance or help, Stephen looked up to Heaven and caught sight of what his entrance would be. There, before his eyes, the glory of God was on full display and Jesus stood at the right hand of the Father. Overcome by the Holy Spirit and the awe of the moment, Stephen cried out his vision. It did not elate the crowd. (Acts 7:51-56)

The infuriated mob violently hauled Stephen out of the city and began hurling stones. No one spoke out on his behalf. No one attempted to intervene. Like the people of our day standing around videoing instead of helping, the witnesses stood idly by, mesmerized by the events as Stephen was martyred. When they retold the event throughout the town that night, I hope they remembered the best part. The part where Stephen never renounced his dedication to God. The part where his faith never faltered. The time when, as fist-sized rocks ricocheted off his skull and thudded into the soft tissue of his back and abdomen, he cried out with absolute certainty his eternal destination, “Lord, receive my spirit!” (Acts 7:57-59)

Stephen knew from where he came. A world tarnished with sin. Rampant rebellion. Raging hate. Lovers of self rather than lovers of God. Stephen also knew where he was going. He knew there would be no hesitation at Heaven’s gate. No rifling through the Book of Life. No sidebar conversations or waiting for a verdict. He would be welcomed with rejoicing because, no matter who he lived among on earth, what they taught, said, or did, Stephen spent his life living as close to Jesus as he could possibly get. Stephen knew and was known by God. (Acts 6:8-7:60)

It must have taken enormous courage to preach Jesus Christ crucified in Stephen’s day. He wasn’t afforded the luxuries so many of us now have. Freedom of speech. Freedom of religion. This lack of freedom didn’t stop Stephen from preaching. It didn’t dampen his desire to see people brought to saving knowledge of Jesus Christ. When all around him, people of power were resisting the Holy Spirit, persecuting and killing the prophets, some even responsible for the death of Jesus Christ, Stephen braced himself and kept preaching. Regardless of what society was saying or doing, no matter the consequences, even when it cost him his life, Stephen chose to do what God had called him to do. Live his life for Heaven while dwelling in suburbia hell.  

In light of Stephen’s circumstances and all it cost him to follow Jesus, it is embarrassing that we, basking in the luxury of freedoms the prophets of the past and some people in the present do not have, find it so monstrous a task to follow God wholeheartedly. We sit in our easy chairs whinging and whining about how hard it is to share Jesus in today’s society. From the quaint corner cafe, we cry into our five-dollar coffee and complain how hard it is to live for Jesus in our upper-middle-class neighborhoods. Amid the siren song of the world enticing us to chase after wealth and pleasure and popularity, we find ourselves lured into complacency and failing to live for eternity. 

Somewhere we have adopted the ridiculous notion that we are living in the most difficult time to be a Christian. Pardon me? Was your life threatened as you strolled into church last Sunday? Were all the Bibles stripped from your home in a militant attack? Are you part of an underground church, struggling to spread the Gospel beneath detection, but ready to endure persecution if you are discovered? Perhaps in some other countries, yes, but here in America? Not yet. So, tell me, exactly, how is this the most difficult time for you to be a Christian?

Is it difficult because you would rather fit in with the world? Would you rather follow the new trends and habits and standards than stand up for Jesus? Is it difficult because the choice between your own unruly heart and Jesus has fallen on the south side of right? Is it difficult because you’ve set up idols like cars and sports and houses and job titles? Or is it difficult because the work God is calling you to do is not as glamorous, lucrative, or prestigious as you hoped? What, exactly, makes you think this is the most difficult time to be a Christian? (Exodus 20: 3-4; Matthew 6:1)  

I’m sorry, friend, this is not the most difficult time to be a Christian. In our “you do you” society, there has never been an easier time to adopt Christianity. I would, however, submit that this is the most dangerous time to be a Christian. The lines between being a Christian and being religious have been so badly blurred they are nearly imperceptible. The religious keeping of a series of rules and regulations in an effort to earn Heaven seems so good, so appealing. It allows you to follow yourself and the world so long as you turn up at church on Sunday, put money in the collection plate, and grab a communion cup on your way out the door. You don’t have to think about Jesus the rest of the week. You don’t have to follow Him, read His word, pray, or do His work. It doesn’t require standards and morals. It only requires a veneer of good works, enough to make people believe you are a Christian. You might even deceive yourself into believing it. But God isn’t confused and He holds the keys of death and hell. Are you interested in taking that chance? (Proverbs 21:2; Ephesians 2:9; Revelation 1:18)

Our churches, comfortably cradled in the fleshly arms of spiritual apathy, have largely become dormant halls of religiosity lacking the power and presence true surrender and following Jesus brings. The members, lulled into spiritual sleep from the boredom of complacency, have dropped their guard, changed their standards, shifted their morals. They are happy to have a form of Christianity, verbal godliness, but they lack the presence and power that comes with having the real thing. Ah, yes, it is a very dangerous time to be a Christian. (II Timothy 3:1-5; Matthew 24:10-12)

You see, true Christianity, true living for Jesus has to be different. Different from religion. Different from the world. True Christianity requires repentance from sin and acceptance of the free gift of salvation offered through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ who gave Himself as a sacrifice on the cross. It is acceptance of a gift we could never earn or deserve. It doesn’t stop there. It is daily living as close to Him as possible, emulating His heart for others, and choosing to follow His commands above all else, before all else, instead of anything else. No matter what. It is consistent self-denial, complete surrender of our hearts and lives to God. It is consciously choosing to live for Heaven in a world that is decidedly unheavenly. (John 3:36; Ephesians 2:1-10; Romans 5:17-18; Philippians 2:15)

The truth is, the evil one isn’t playing. This isn’t a game to him. This is war. A battle for your very soul and he will fight with pleasant words and pretty excuses to pull your heart off track. He will dangle the eternally valueless trinkets of the world in front of you as if they are pearls of great price. He will deceive you at every turn. You have to keep your focus. You can’t afford to be distracted. If your eye isn’t firmly fixed on Heaven, your face isn’t set like a stone, your heart isn’t completely surrendered to Jesus, you are dangerously close to a disastrous eternal entrance. (Isaiah 50:7; Colossians 3:2; I Peter 1:13-15; II Peter 3:10-12; Matthew 7:13-14)  

So don’t forget what you are doing here. Don’t forget the end game. Don’t take your eyes off the prize. Don’t forget your mission. Live for Jesus when no one else is. Live for the eternal when others are focused on the temporal. Live to gain abundant Heavenly entrance even if your current residence seems to be suburbia hell. (Ephesians 2:18-20; Philippians 3:20)