The Man who burns the world in love.

Here's a quote from a Jewish woman: "I love Jesus. Don't get me wrong, I have no interest whatsoever in Christianity. But I love Jesus. I feel like he belongs to me."

This got me thinking deep about the issue of relativism. You may not see this from the angle I do, but what this signifies to me right off the bat is an idea of a "social" Jesus, a flexible cultural icon who can be taken out of his historic and ideological contexts and whittled down to fit some feel-good generic religious sensibilities. This Jesus is robbed of his urgent message and call to repentance; this Jesus becomes champion of nothing more than good morals and community service. I'd almost rather someone not believe in him at all, than strip him of most of his words and testimony (and it's nice that Jews can see in him one of their own, because he was a great faithful Jew; but he's also the Messiah, and if you're not going to take him as such, I say don't even approach him...but the big sticky issue of Judaism v Christianity is something I can't get into here). The figure of Christ is so entrenched in our civilization that it's very easy to water him down and stretch his original teachings to whatever mold the current popular fad favors. You lose his harsh demands, get rid of all the uncomfortable bits about changing your life and committing to a higher authority.

The "dogmatic" side of Christ's message, of course, can be passed off as religious appendages, hard-nosed, narrow-minded ethical codes and bizarre, overly-complex theological doctrines and impenetrable spirituality, all bringing down the sweet simple Way Jesus "really" promoted—namely, the injunction to be a nice person and treat everyone equally and work hard and be thankful and help those around you. Jesus becomes a life counselor, a self-help coach. And if more spiritual-minded people don't simplify the Lord to that degree, they still may use him to shore up their own preconceived religious ideas; especially those who value spirituality and "getting in touch with a higher power", but see all approaches to the idea of "God" as equally viable, and latch on to whatever tidbits of whatever faiths they come across that strike them as enlightening or edifying. So this vague, fuzzy sort of religion, this hyper-liberal pluralism, can readily accept the basic tenets of Christianity concerning morality and prayer and whatever makes the self feel more secure and more "in tune" with the great cosmic mystery, and with the force of humanity around it; but this pseudo-faith, in its relativism and lack of focus, misses the point entirely of what Jesus and his mission are all about. It divorces the character of Christ from the real substance of the Gospel story, all the shocking, terrifying, demanding facets of the Kingdom message.

Jesus stands at the heart of a very real, very objective narrative: we are part of a history that begins at Creation and is summed up in the New Creation. There is a definite direction to the faith on which Christianity is built, and Christ points along that line and calls all people to join him in preparing for the next stage. So many well-meaning people in our overly-comfortable world see faith and spirituality as a kind of tranquil pool, not related to the course of time in any fixed fashion, just sort of there, floating in the midst of the human condition, to be tapped into by those who fancy some higher perspective, or profound encouragement to continue in whatever it is they love doing with confidence, or just some warm consolation in times of trial. There's no sense of mission or commitment...it's just a matter of taste, what the individual needs for the moment, what one thirsty soul seeks after to make its personal journey more palatable. This brand of religion is very sanitary (at least by the standards of our post-Enlightenment outlook) and very safe. No one is faulted for not adhering to it. You can gain a lot of insight and mental strength by subscribing to it, but you won't necessarily lose anything by not buying into the whole "God" deal. And as for God himself, he's just the great thrumming energy that envelops us and connects us and runs through the center of all our experience. He is the magnification of our rapturous feelings, the paramount of our emotional thrills.

All that matters, after all, is for everyone to be content and happy in the station they have adopted for themselves, so long as it does not interfere with the pursuits of everyone else; so the only purpose God serves is to make sure that "a good time was had by all." God and Christ also become great ethereal ideals presiding over the cause of humanitarianism, the forces driving the egalitarian movement that seeks to establish "rights" and happiness for all peoples—because that's all that really counts at the end of the day. The ultimate being, and whoever else he may be associated with, has no intrinsic value; he is just the numinous authority appealed to for justification for the great causes of the bleeding hearts.

Don't get me wrong, I'm all for equality and fair treatment of all peoples. The New Testament calls for us to treat everyone the same and show respect to all. But it's about so more than that; and the highest aim of humanity is not to be secure and content here on earth, but to serve the Creator and Master of the universe. Christ came here to draw all those who are willing to that cause, to empower the fallen race to work for the Kingdom and realize God's tomorrow here in the present (not in full, but in anticipation of perfection). The story of Jesus, and all his teachings and edicts, are tied up in this overarching saga of God's relation with the rebellious world. God created us to serve him through our society, and Christ's redemptive work makes possible the salvation of at least a part of that society to make ready for the full inception of "heaven-on-earth." The plans for making this dream a reality are very specific, and Christ's message encapsulates guidelines for that "narrow way", so that, if you are going to ally yourself with the cause of Christ, and are going to take him for all he actually is, you are going to have to surrender yourself to the "rules" of this new lifestyle and allow your whole being to be transformed into the image God has in mind for his New Creation.

If you're going to treat the issue of Jesus seriously, you cannot dismiss the Biblical story, you must, must, must hold on to the whole epic mess of God's plan of salvation; and that entails a lot of sacrifice, and subjecting your entire will to the purposes of the highest authority. And yes.....the fullest "revelation" of that authority's demands and desires is found within the doctrines of the Christian faith. So many truth-seekers are put off by Christianity's seeming "exclusiveness", this notion that the Church holds all the right answers. But being a Christian is not about having all the answers, it's about recognizing the One who is THE Answer. But, to be honest, when you approach the issue of that "Answer", the path to God becomes very strict. Jesus is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. No one comes to the Father but through him. Granted, this could mean that Christ, in his sacrifice, made possible for all people at all places and times some form of relationship with God. I truly believe that. But it does not mean that one mode of thinking is as good as another. Jesus is the best way, and all other ways are just "offshoots" of his awesome accomplishment. He has opened the gates of heaven to all peoples, including those who've never heard of him; but when you don't have the tangible image of God in your midst, your idea of God is going to be scattershot and blurred. And if you really hunger for the truth, once you are offered a chance to know the Father through the person of Christ, you will not turn down the opportunity.

In Christ we have the clearest picture ever given of who God is and what he demands of his creatures. You may not agree with a lot of the Church's theology, but it is vital that you accept its testimony about the nature of Jesus and what he has done for the world and what he calls us to do for him. All people should accept his Lordship, and seek a close walk with him, and cry out to him to show them what he would have them do for his Kingdom. Our culture is really put off by this notion of needing to believe a certain way and follow a fixed path of righteousness—we are obsessed with making everyone feel good about themselves and about not offending anyone, so we tell everyone to find their own happy place, so long as that doesn't involve interfering with anyone else's happy place. But if you bring in the whole narrative of Creation and re-Creation, with the fascinating promise of the Kingdom hovering over all and God's determination to end sin and death underlying the entire construct, the pieces fall into place, the Bible's teachings and prophecies make sense, the Gospel takes on fresh immediacy and relevance; because it's a continuing drama we are still wrapped up in, and it's aiming at a very specific goal, and it's framed by a solid network of principles of holiness all rooted in the character of God himself...so yes, the road is narrow, and the options are limited. There is only one manner in which the universe can be set to rights, and while it certainly involves humans treating each other nicely, we can never hope to play together so merrily as to really reverse by our own will the massive infection of hatred and vanity and fear and destruction that contaminates all we do.

When you accept the condition of the world and humanity for what it is—for what the Bible holds it to be—it isn't too difficult to accept the fact that God is the only one who can do anything about it, and he has set a project in motion to fix things up, and to be a part of his great act of renewal and salvation you have to align yourself with his purposes and his standards. The standards of the world are far too broad and hazy, and leave too much room for mistake and self-delusion. Our parameters are set to ensure that no one wrongs anyone, but also to ensure that no one has to make any real changes if they're not engaged in any activity that directly maligns those around them, and to ensure that each individual has a shot at the big-time and to realize his or her own private fantasies. It's wish-fulfillment, and cowardice. We scorn taking chances, and we shudder at the idea of venturing into the unknown.

The Jesus we meet in the Gospel of John (easily the most intimidating and mind-boggling of the Gospels, and the most contentious) is a very holy entity, almost completely "other" and beyond mortal comprehension. But he's still one of us, on our level, calling us to a purer mode of existence—not a more bliss-filled one, necessarily, certainly not a less risky one, but the only one worth living, because it is the one that stems from God himself and thus the one that is Life itself. The God-man in John presents the challenge clearly and sharply, no-holds-barred and full of an awesome heavenly power that leaves no room for silly human reservations and cautiousness, completely overrides our desires of comfort and self-assurance, ignores our pitiful whimperings for "sensitivity" and "political correctness". Because the future of all reality is at stake. We're talking about eternity here, and the whole meaning behind Creation and our being here in the first place. This is serious stuff, and it's urgent, because we are enjoined to take advantage of the brief time we have on this earth in this current state, and make a difference by proclaiming the unchanging truths of God's Word. To brush the invitation aside is to shut the door in your own face; to ignore the call of Christ to labor for the mission of heaven is to turn your face from the light.

Christ is the medium by which we receive that light, which is sustenance and essence, and whenever you have some objective Identity or even an Idea which communicates some eternal principle, the will of the foundational Force of the universe (and if it's going to hold things together, it's got to have certain traits and attributes, to be definable by some concepts in contrast to others, even though we cannot of course grasp most of what God is in his fullness), logic and reason and the laws of reality require that this Person or Notion be something, as opposed to something else. What I'm saying is, if you're going to have a bridge to life, that bridge has to have shape and structure. It can't be whatever our whim would have it be; it must be functional. So, the universe and life being as they are, under certain "regulations" and following a certain order, such that our personal tastes can't alter the facts of what works and what doesn't fly, the avenue to eternity, to completeness and true being, must fall within some measure of focused principles that serve to direct our souls to the wellspring of life. Nothing in Nature can be approached with success simply by whatever method an individual mind can dream up; there are some pretty hardcore laws set in place for interacting with the earth and manipulating our environs. So why should this most basic system of functionality and relationism not hold throughout all levels of reality? Each component of Creation has qualifications and "limits", in the sense of being definable to some degree; and whenever you have characteristics and quantifiers, you need rules—directions—for getting there and "getting in touch" with what that particular aspect of reality is.

I've gone through all that rambling philosophy to say this: real faith, real religion, cannot be relative or subjective. It cannot be dependent on human wishes and ideals. It must come from the mouth of God himself, and Christianity has the strongest credibility in the claim to represent the words issuing from the Creator. We do not "own" the truths, or edicts, or principles, or whatever you want to call them, nor do we claim exclusive rights to them. They are given by God's grace for all people. Christians are simply those who have assented to them and chosen to live by them. We did not make them up (at least not the foundational tenets...some of the more intricate doctrines are pretty questionable). We do not fashion them into our likeness: they fashion us into the likeness of God. This is the will of the Father for all humanity, to be like him. So he became like us—and that's where Jesus comes in, to show us how to be, and to take us with him into the presence of the Father. But the perfection of God is by nature incompatible with the corruption in which we are bred, so the darkness within us must go; it's not an immediate alteration, it's a gradual process of learning and loving. But it is a commitment, and it is most dire and most urgent, and it is this vital realization of what it means to serve God that makes up the ministry and legacy of the man Jesus.