"Jesus lover of my soul, Jesus I will never let you go..." I used to sing this song at the top of my voice back in my crazy charismatic days. I thought that this is what following Jesus is all about. The touchy, feely, needy stuff that makes you all warm inside and glowy on the outside.
I guess it's OK if that's the way you fly your religious kite.
But things have changed for me the last few years.
Jesus is not my boyfriend anymore.
He is the rebel Prophet, son of God in whos footstep I blindly stumble. There is nothing romantic about following Jesus. With him nothing is fuzzy and fluffy. It is always grounded, solid, real and truthful. It cuts straight through my cultural bullshit and gets to the heart of what (my) life can look like.
A few months ago I blogged about a book called The Irresistible Revolution. The writer, Shane Claiborne wrote that Jesus wrecked him.
That's not what you expect from "Boyfriend Jesus". No, "Boyfriend Jesus" soothes the soul, warms the heart and puts a little band aid on your scratch mark.
The other Jesus, the one I struggle to understand, describe or get to grips with sends you out into the wilderness like lambs among wolves, he gives you a cross (though lighter than the burden of the world) and then he measures your character and faith with the help of the poor and the hungry.