When a person firsts enlists in an army they don’t know anything about being a soldier. One of the purposes of “boot camp” is to break down the individuality a person comes with and make them a part of a team. Then they have the right to be called a private.
A private doesn’t get to make many decisions, because they still don’t know much. They can carry a weapon, know which end is dangerous, but in terms of strategy they rely on others.
As soldiers advance up the ranks, they’re given more responsibility. They still take orders, but instead of “you and your team clear that building,” they’re told, “have someone clear that building.” Eventually, if they stick with it long enough, a soldier might get good enough to qualify for officer training.
The officers are taught leadership, tactics, strategy, and a whole host of things the enlisted soldiers don’t have to think about.
Christianity is like that.
A new convert is like a private. “Go to the mall and make disciples,” they’re told. “Sir, yes, sir!” The private heads to the mall.
Eventually the new convert learns enough. “Hey, guys, let’s go to the mall and make disciples,” Corporal Convert says.
Eventually, if they stick with it enough, Master Sergeant Christian is teaching new recruits what it means to be a follower of Christ.
My point: Jesus is the field marshal, and you are not. There were generals like Billy Graham, Billy Sunday, and others. Greg Laurie is a contemporary example of a leader who is conducting crusades, exhorting people to “go to the mall and make disciples,” to reuse my example above.
He’s not a private, but like any good general he’s capable of doing everything he’s asking those privates to do. The field marshal can do those things, too, and has.
“Follow me,” Field Marshal Jesus said. He was just starting His ministry at that point, but one by one He told folks, “Follow me.”
Then He took His people and went on a crusade, healing the sick, teaching, and adding trainees. His boot camps brought in thousands, though most dropped out.
Training is hard work. A lot of folks want to join up for the “three hots and a cot” because they come from a bad neighborhood and can’t get enough to eat. But when Jesus told them what it would be like in His “army,” they fell away.
Twelve, though, stuck with Him. “You have the words of eternal life.” Those were the folks who saw deeper into what Jesus was saying, understood that He was more than just a meal ticket, and wanted to get training as officers.
For three years they followed Him everywhere. When He was crucified and resurrected, they qualified as generals in His army.
A private has no right to question a field marshal. Your Christian training manual, the Bible, was written to teach you everything you need to know to be a Christian. You don’t get to pick and choose the parts you like. You don’t get to ignore the parts you don’t like. It’s your training manual, written by generals, inspired by the field marshal.
“But I don’t want to believe that part,” whines Trainee Wannabe.
“Shut up,” says Colonel Christian. “If you don’t like parts you have two options. Either change your mind or get out of this army.”
If you stick with it, the retirement plan is out of this world.
If you don’t, that retirement plan is the worst possible outcome.
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