Putting Jesus in My Boots #MyJesusProject

I’m spending 18 months trying to figure out what it really means to follow Jesus. I mean, I’m not trying to be jesus, per se, and that’s probably best for all of us. I’m pretty sure I would suck at it. The thing is, Jesus called different people to different things, from what I can tell. He challenged a handful of disciples to drop everything and follow him, walking away from their jobs, homes and families in the process. But they also didn’t travel that far. Historians figure Jesus spent most – if not all – of his ministry within 100 miles of where he was born. So it’s not like the disciples would never, ever have had a chance to see their loved ones again. With followers from various villages in the region, I’d wager they stayed at those homes whenever they made their way through town.

It’s not like today. They didn’t have mortgages, utilities to pay, iPhones to charge and super important things like that. They didn’t have to worry about the ethics of the sourcing for their food and clothing, because they probably knew the people who made and grew them. Of course, there’s the whole temples-and-houses-of-government-built-by-slaves thing, but chances are those slaves were their ancestors. So it seems only fair they can use them.

They didn’t have to drive to work, and therefore, wonder what the true human costs were attached to each gallon of gas in their car. They didn’t live in a society that required two parents to have full-time salaried jobs, simply to keep pace with the mainstream culture. Instead, they had stuff like pestilence, famine and the threat of exile or execution.

Ahh, the good old days.

But seriously, I have to wonder what Jesus would do if he was air dropped into my life, here and now. Today. Would he bail on Amy, Zoe and Mattias to go help others? Would he walk away from the house, car and student loans? Would he live on the street, hoping people would sustain him with handouts? Or would he have kept his job, trying to make things work as a bi-vocational pastor?

More to the point, if he were here, assessing my life, what would he have me do different in the reality and socio-cultural context in which I find myself?

I’ve started getting some good responses to the survey I posted, asking folks what I should and shouldn’t do in my upcoming year trying to follow Jesus. One theme has been to feed 5,000 people, provide sustenance for the poor, etc. And in as much as Jesus was a good community organizer, I’d like to think (realistic or not) that Jesus would use all tools at his disposal to rally those in his larger tribe to help. So that’s what I’m doing with our “trade up” project. Basically, I’m offering items in trade for something of equal or greater value until we have enough resources to feed 5,000 people.

Hey, absent of some magical Jesus-wand anyone knows about, it seems to be a practical solution.

The next most common has been to spend time with the poor and marginalized. This, I know how to do from experience, having worked for about eight years for a nonprofit providing housing, meals and other services for homeless and low-income people with HIV/AIDS. It broke down nearly every barrier of discomfort I had in coming face-to-face with the “other,” particularly since they located the administrative offices within the same residential facility where the residents lived. We shared meals, and they’d drop by my office from time to time to make sure I was doing my best work to keep a roof over their heads.

But these days, I spend more time working from home than anything. I do spend time downtown with some of the guys on the street, but nothing like I used to. So this is a definite “to do” on my list, as I’m pretty sure I feel the “Jesus nudge” on this one.

Back to the larger question though: how would Jesus shop for food? Clothes? How would he get to work, pick up his kids form school, all within an ethical framework that bore out his moral and spiritual convictions? As I said above, he didn’t have to look for the “fair trade,” “non GMO” or “organic” labels, because everything was local, organic and was quite literally fair trade, since people tended to trade for what they needed as often as they used money.

He also didn’t have as many opportunities as I do to pollute my body with all sorts of wonderful things, from Twinkies to deep-fried butter (suffice it to say that Jesus would not eat anything at a state fair).  So what would he say yes to, and what would he pass on? I’ve heard arguments that Jesus would have been vegan, though this really seems to have no basis in scripture, or given the culture in which he was raised. But he didn’t have to contend with Monsanto and the argi-industrial complex that is now squeezing many small farms out of existence.

I guess the real question I’m trying to figure out is if he would eat at Chipotle, because if not, I’m definitely going to starve in the coming year. Good news for me is that Chipotle uses ethically and organically raised food, so I think I’m in the clear on that one. And for the record, before someone tries to purvey the vicious lie that they’re owned by McDonalds, they’re not. I promise.

And what about the family? How much can I reasonably put my family though in doing all of this? I don’t want to become some sort of moral dictator (he never was), nor do I want to come off as holier than thou because I refuse to participate in something they’re all doing. Maybe this is why he bailed on everyone in his family of origin. Maybe it was just easier to be separate from them than to try and live the way he believed God wanted him to, while also maintaining close family ties.

All of this seems to skirt around a larger question; was Jesus anti-family? On the surface, it seems an absurd suggestion, but can anyone reasonably follow him in the way we’re expected to and sustain a 21st century family in North America? Honestly, I’m not sure. On one hand, some people say the essence of it ass is to try and be a good person. But first of all, that’s vague enough to allow each of us to deem whatever we’re doing at the time as “good enough.” Second, I think he called us – calls us – to far more than just being benignly good and not killing people. We’re meant to be proactive in the realization of his kingdom vision for the world, here and now in our midst. And I don’t mean that in the sense that we’re supposed to win over souls for Christianity. I mean, he didn’t make people convert to Judaism.  But he cast a vision in which the end of all suffering, all separation, all violence and fear were made real. And when he said that we would do even greater things than he did, I think he meant all of us, together.

And it wasn’t just a word of encouragement; it was a mandate. So if together we’re not achieving greater things than he did in his short ministry with a handful of amateur followers, then it should probably keep us awake some nights. So I’m still not sure how Jesus would go about living my life, but I’m pretty sure in taking on this project, there’s a tension in nearly every waking moment that I’m struggling with: the tension between what is and what could be.

Perhaps more important, I’m wrestling fairly constantly with what it is I’m supposed to be doing about it.