CHRIST’S RADICAL CALL VS. OUR COMFORTABLE RULES

We cannot evade this simple truth: without personal holiness and genuine piety that flows from the heart—not mere external religiosity—the gospel loses its cutting edge. Jesus did not call people to religious activity; He called them to radical obedience. Prayer matters. Gathering with other believers matters. But Jesus consistently placed greater weight on how we live than on how often we attend religious assemblies.

Many Christians love to quote Jesus’ words, “If you love Me, keep My commandments” (John 14:15). The problem is not the quotation—it is the selective obedience that follows. Instead of keeping the commands Jesus actually gave, we often replace them with safer, socially acceptable rules of our own making. “You must attend church every Sunday.” That may be wise and beneficial, but it is not a command Jesus or His apostles ever issued. What Jesus did command is far more demanding—and far less comfortable.

Jesus commanded His followers to love their enemies (Matthew 5:44). Not tolerate them. Love them. He commanded radical forgiveness—seventy times seven (Matthew 18:22). He demanded generosity that costs us something (Luke 12:33). He insisted that we refuse retaliation, absorb injustice, and overcome evil with good (Matthew 5:38-41). He taught that reconciliation with others matters more to God than religious offerings (Matthew 5:23-24). He declared that how we treat the poor, the stranger, the prisoner, and the marginalized is how we treat Him (Matthew 25:31-46).

Jesus also confronted prejudice directly. He crossed ethnic, racial, and social boundaries without hesitation. He spoke with Samaritans, touched lepers, defended women, welcomed children, and praised the faith of outsiders whom religious leaders despised. He told stories where the hero was a Samaritan and the villain was a religious man (Luke 10:30-37). He modeled a kingdom where mercy mattered more than pedigree and compassion mattered more than conformity.

Yet in every generation, religious communities find it easier to emphasize man-made rules than Christ-made commands. It is easier to measure church attendance than enemy-love. Easier to police behavior than confront injustice. Easier to defend doctrine than to bear a cross. Man-made rules feel safe; Jesus’ commands are dangerous. They threaten our comfort, our prejudices, and our sense of moral superiority.

This is why Jesus reserved His strongest rebukes not for sinners, but for the religious—those who tithed carefully, prayed publicly, and followed traditions meticulously while neglecting “the weightier matters of the law: justice, mercy, and faithfulness” (Matthew 23:23). He did not condemn them for caring about rules; He condemned them for caring about the wrong ones.

The Gospel was never meant to produce well-behaved churchgoers who ignore suffering, excuse prejudice, or justify injustice. It was meant to form disciples who look like Jesus—who love boldly, forgive recklessly, cross boundaries freely, and obey even when obedience costs them something.

Anything less may look like religion, but it does not carry the authority—or the power—of Christ.

BDD