students of jesus

The thing about my life is I’m not very well connected. You know what people say, “It’s not what you know, it’s who your know.” What I need are powerful friends. People in high places who can make things happen. Movers. Shakers. Rainmakers. Someone strategically placed who—with just a word—change things.

I know what you’re thinking: this blog is called Students of Jesus, so this tart opening paragraph is setting us up for Jesus, the guy in the highest place. The First Mover and Final Shaker. One word from him is enough to call twelve legions of angels, which tops out north of 60,000 supernatural beings. The very mention of his name resounds in deaf ears and causes blind eyes to see. Jesus is the ultimate friend in high places. But no. Not today. That would be a no-brainer blog, even though that’s all true about Jesus.

I’m held up by the paradox of his final instructions to us, that famous passage we’ve come to call the Great Commission. We all know the part about making disciples, and I’ve written previously about the hidden verses that set up the commission. But this time, I’m struck by the contrast between his power and the way he wants to help us.

“All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me,” he tells us. Then he gives us the vision. “You guys go and make disciples.” And perhaps most strikingly, he finishes with this assurance: “surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”

There are two challenging notions calling us to come wrestle. First, the most connected guy in all creation gives the most important work to . . . us! Second, he guarantees neither victory nor inside muscle, but only his presence. (I know what you’re thinking again, because my inner Charismatic side is screaming, “but there’s power in his presence!” but put on the wrestling spandex just long enough to grapple with these issues.)

Why us? Couldn’t he do it himself? He’s already saved the world; gathering in disciples would be a snap for him. I think Jesus realizes there’s something left undone in us until we ourselves make disciples. Until we ourselves struggle with teaching others how to obey everything he commanded. Anyone can point to the rulebook and say, “Do this stuff,” but it requires a deep, personal, inner change to be able to say, "Come with me and I’ll show you how it’s done."

And if “all authority” belongs to Jesus, why doesn’t he simply say the word? Here’s what I think: Jesus demonstrated that leadership is about presence, not authority. We’re drawn to a view of power that resembles the cheesy Superman movie of the ‘70’s where super spaceman General Zod commands the people of earth, “Bow! Kneel!” Meanwhile the true power of the universe whispers, “Go ahead, give it a try, I’ll be with you.” We would like to wield General Zod’s name and get instant results! Instead, Jesus wants to live through clay vessels, cracked and fragile, which leak the most powerful substance in the universe: God’s loving presence.

Which do you think is easier? And why (I’m asking) would our Father choose to do it this way?