Comfort breeds cowardice

 This week's verses are Luke 18:18-23:

Now a certain leader asked him, “Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus said to him, “Why do you call me good? No one is good except God alone. You know the commandments: ‘Do not commit adultery, do not murder, do not steal, do not give false testimony, honor your father and mother.’” The man replied, “I have wholeheartedly obeyed all these laws since my youth.” When Jesus heard this, he said to him, “One thing you still lack. Sell all that you have and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.” But when the man heard this he became very sad, for he was extremely wealthy. 

In the last month, I've seen several snapshots of cowardice in the world around me, and will be exploring some scriptures that address it in its different forms.

Being a coward isn't the same thing as being afraid. It's fine to be afraid sometimes, and even useful to have fear keep us from uselessly dangerous situations. To me, you're not a coward if you listen to your fear and avoid senseless risks. I would not call someone who refuses to go bungee jumping or skydiving a coward. Maybe they just didn't consider the adrenaline rush to be worth the risk of death or injury.

For me, a coward is someone who knows what they need to do, but doesn't do it because of fear. A coward is someone who is called to duty, but refuses the call because they cannot overcome their discomfort. A coward is a slave to his feelings, a king who lets himself be ruled over by his advisors, who allows himself to be cheated out of good things. A coward is intimidated by his own heart into betraying his loved ones, his country, and sometimes even God himself.

In Revelation 21:8, cowards are listed right alongside of murderers and the sexually immoral, in terms of the people who deserve God's condemnation. It's a serious charge, but what does cowardice look like in our lives?

In these verses, there's a well respected guy in the community who wants to be a better believer. This is already the guy everybody wants to be. He's rich, powerful, protected, pampered, and morally excellent. He asks the same question we all ask in our religious fervor: "God, what do I need to do to be more excellent?" He wants to be led to something better.

But look at the commandments he has obeyed in terms of his situation: Is it really difficult for a man with limitless marriage possibilities in that society to not commit adultery? Is it really difficult for a powerful man with bodyguards to not murder someone himself? Is it difficult for a rich man whose needs are always covered to not steal? Is it difficult for a guy who has enough spare cash to pay out a lawsuit to not give false testimony? And given that he probably inherited some or all of his wealth, is it really difficult for the guy to honor his father and mother?

He lived a moral life, but he did so in such a protected environment that it probably wasn't much of a challenge. Our lives are probably similar. How often are we really in a situation where we are tempted to murder someone, for instance? Can we really brag about not falling into a sin that never tempts us?

The one thing he and Jesus don't discuss right away though is idolatry. The young ruler's wealth is his identity, his protector and shield, his comfort blanket, and his source of joy. To let that slip away would have been terrifying. He would rather be abandoned by God himself than abandon his wealth, and the realization of that fact makes him sad.

I can remember a situation years ago, where a friend abandoned years of preparation for the mission field because her fiancé gave her an ultimatum that it would be him or the mission but not both. And I remember another situation where a guy was called to a specific career in another part of the country, but went through a rough patch and decided to move home to help his best friend work on his business instead. Neither of their lives went well afterwards, and I always wondered why they shied away from their calling.

I've also seen situations where people have cancelled short term mission trips due to unsafe conditions in the host country, or people who have refused to defend their own people because they didn't want to risk injury or death or put their career on pause. I've heard all sorts of excuses and justifications for backing out of commitments or refusing the call to adventure and service. And in our comfortable society it only seems to be getting worse.

I live in a very wealthy post-industrial western nation, and I can see the weakening effect it has on me when I spend too much time there. Comfort makes us risk-averse. It deflates our initiative in helping others. It lulls us asleep and tries to convince us that everything that matters can be found within its paradise walls. It saps our resilience over time in the same way that time spent on a couch may erode our core muscles.

Comfort whispers "Safety first," while holding the pillow over our face. Eventually our faith is comatose, despite still looking healthy from the outside. That's the situation our rich young ruler finds himself in. After years of sitting in comfort in front of the TV, the moment you try to snap into action, you're going to throw your back out. All this time, the young man thought he was fit, but during all those years he had been turning into a coward.

The same thing is happening to us now. Very rarely do we let our ministry programs put us in situations that are dirty, dangerous, or demeaning. Instead we live out a kind of theme park Christianity where we all put on hats and pretend to be pirates, but are never in any real danger. We brag about being swashbucklers, but nothing we value is ever at risk.

But that's not the faith experience Jesus calls us to. We don't expect it to be, and neither did the rich young ruler. That's why he was taken aback when he was called and why he was unprepared to follow. We don't expect our savior to invite us to come and die. Given the choice between taking up our cross and just throwing some money in the hat, nobody but the most rare Christlike person chooses the cross. We offer Cain's sacrifice of vegetables grown in comfortable conditions instead of Abel's sacrifice of blood, service, and hardship.

So here's a thought experiment: Imagine God was telling you to abandon everything to go work with drug addicts in a bad neighborhood. Imagine he wanted you to sell your house and your cars, liquidate the 401k and take the penalties, abandon the four years you invested in your bachelors, the two you spent in grad school, and the decade it took you to pay it all off and establish yourself in your career. Imagine he was asking you to leave the nice neighborhood you live in, the safe schools for your kids, your social support network, all of it. Just to risk your life trying to save a bunch of people who statistically can't be helped. Would you be any less sad than the rich young ruler?

If you, like most of us, couldn't imagine saying yes, what was holding you back? Which of the things caused the most discomfort? For which of them did the thought of giving them up provoke raw terror? Pray about those things that could put you in danger of not being obedient to face danger and hardship. Pray about the cowardice in your heart that could conspire to keep you from taking up your cross and walking the path God has for you.