I remember having a conversation once about having a “revelation of Christ” with my friend John. His point was that Jesus reveals himself to us in our real life experience; that is, we can know and follow him in reality. In that case, changing emotions, ideas, doctrines and theories are no substitute for such an encounter.

Brennan Manning writes in Ruthless Trust, “It is simply not possible to receive the revelation of God in the transcendent/immanent Christ without experience” because only Jesus reveals who God is.” (p. 87-88).  This is a reality we must experience, and even then it’s a mystery. Later he adds, “If someone were to ask you, ‘What is the one thing in life that is certain?’ you would have to answer, ‘The love of Christ’” (p. 92).
I can’t control this experience. I may long for the “revelation of Christ” but I can’t control it or follow a formula.

As Meister Eckhart puts it:

The soul must long for God in order to be set aflame by God’s love; but if the soul cannot yet feel this longing, then it must long for the longing. To long for the longing is also from God.

When confronted with the loss of control and the mystery along this journey, we have the record of God entering history and living among us (the Bible) and the deepest longings and passions put in our souls by the one who made us.

Upon encountering God we have nothing to offer except our whole lives. Worship is trust in motion; it’s lived out; it’s giving up my agendas to walk with Jesus. The fruit of worship is loving others, healing the sick, feeding the poor…not out of guilt or obligation but because this is what God is doing in history and why not join him? This kind of worship hasn’t usually led to comfort, power, wealth, fame and security but more often to practical work, disrepute, obscurity, dependence and risk.

But so many people fall into the trap of religion at the point of meeting Jesus, and they trade a life of worship and walking with Jesus (of humility, love, risk, heights of joy along with suffering) for something more acceptable and palatable: religion.

Religion tells you you’re “in,” and then lets you settle for a mediocre life. Religion offers a managed Christian life with love, service and sacrifice in reasonable doses, along with assurances of security and control.  Religion offers “Jesus extract” to satisfy our desires for purpose, significance, hope, and forgiveness. But like a drug religion doesn’t quite satisfy us and keeps us coming back for more.

Religion subtly hints and teaches that we’re really not significant, that life is scary, and that grace don’t fully erase our guilt. That’s because religion is self-sustaining; it must foster a need for itself. Real grace and pure freedom in Christ are suspect, as if we can’t handle them. Religion once it starts to feed on itself fears that if we experience pure grace and freedom in Christ directly then we won’t need it anymore. As religion grows bigger, Jesus grows smaller and less necessary. Religion is man made and sustained.

I’ve spent a lot of time and effort trying to control my life and appease God. That’s the essence of my religious experiences. Please understand, I’ve had genuine encounters with the living God all along (at various times and places in and outside of what I’m calling religion). I think there are many people walking with Jesus inside religious institutions who haven’t been trapped in the religious game. But for myself knowing Jesus (and finding others who knew Jesus) pulled me beyond my religious roots to something better.

I’ve always been haunted by love — by the longing for it (and often the longing for the longing). There were times when I bumped up against a love so strong that it stopped me in my tracks. Despite all my shortcomings of faith, trust, discipline and integrity, I held onto the thread of that longing, which was the lifeline that God must have thrown to me. In these past few years, I’ve become more aware of all the religious baggage that I carried. I want to lay aside everything that weighs me down and hinders me in order to pursue one thing: to know Jesus — the love of God in Christ — and to live in his grace and reality trusting and following him.

I’m not there yet. I still find myself holding onto threads of control and  trying to make myself more significant (as if I can add any significance to Jesus, who was God incarnate, giving his life for me). I refuse to give up this journey, even at the dark moments, because I’ve glimpsed where it’s going.