How hard is it to follow Jesus, really?

Much, much harder than I thought.

When I was a kid, I thought that following Jesus was about not doing things that are bad. Somehow, I learned that the baddest of the bad things were cussing, drinking, smoking, and any trace of sexual pleasure.

It’s no wonder I thought that my teen years would be the time when following Jesus would be the hardest. James Dobson told me so.

I did indeed give in to temptation in my teen years. I said a few dirty words (when nobody was listening). I tried a beer or two (and didn’t like it). I smoked a few cigarettes (until I threw up one night and never smoked again). And I fooled around with my girlfriend (but got dumped before “premarital sex” could happen).

All those teen temptations went away when I went away to a Christian college. There, none of my friends cussed, drank, smoked, or even tried to get to first base with their girlfriends.

I thought: “The worst is behind me. As long as I’ve got friends like this for the rest of my life, following Jesus is going to be easy.”

Adulthood, however, is teaching me otherwise. Studying the life and teachings of Jesus sets standards that no James Dobson book ever set.

Following Jesus is about what I do; not about what I don’t do.

And what does Jesus himself say about that?

If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it (Jesus Christ in the Gospel of Matthew 16:24-25).

This saying of Jesus is not about how a person should avoid sin; it is about how a Christian sacrifices herself or himself–as Jesus did–for the good of others. I deny my own needs and wants to tend to your needs and wants. I choose to give to you by choosing to give up what may be mine by right. This is literally what it means to follow Jesus.

Oh, that is hard! Harder than anything in the world.

I was thinking about that last night as my dad and mom sent me text messages from the hospital.

Dad has cancer for the second time in his life. He started a new course of chemotherapy last week. A couple of days after his first treatment, Mom and he both got upper respiratory infections that made them miserable and sick.

When Mom took Dad to the hospital for a routine checkup yesterday, they found that he was dehydrated. His white blood cell count was plunging (when it should have been going up).

So my parents spent the entire day waiting for the hospital to find a bed for Dad (and a comfortable place for Mom to sit next to him).

When I woke up this morning, a text from Dad indicated that the hospital finally put him in a room at about 1 a.m. in the morning. Mom and he were dirty and exhausted from more than 12 hours of being sick, not knowing what was going on, and waiting around in holding rooms.

At one point during their ordeal, I texted Mom: “Is anyone there with you?”

“No,” she said.

I thought of my dad. How many times do I remember him getting up and going out in the middle of the night to sit with someone in the hospital emergency room? How many times do I remember him spending an afternoon in waiting rooms with anxious families?

He had other things to do, but Dad always denied himself and took up someone else’s cross as his own.

That is following Jesus.

And I…don’t do that. Not much. Not often.

I grew up among Christians who warned me that the culture around us would corrupt our morals (i.e. tempt us to do things we should not do).

But as an old Christian now, I see that the culture corrupts us in a way that is more difficult to detect and extract. That is: The culture convinces me as a Christian that the person who deserves the best and most of me is…me.

I don’t want to go visit anyone in the hospital. I get squeamish there. I have more important things to do than sit around in a waiting room.

But if I am serious about following Jesus, the Way is clear.

It runs through the places where humans are suffering and in need of compassion, kindness, mercy, and tenderness. Jesus went looking for those people and places.

That is the Way that Dad chose. If I am to follow Jesus as he did, it is the Way I must choose, too.

What about you?

Grace and peace.