John 6:61 The bouncer at the kingdom door

But Jesus, conscious that His disciples grumbled at this, said to them, “Does this cause you to stumble?

John 6:61 NASB

There are significant obstacles to believing the gospel. Today, there are so many conflicting belief systems in the church. Many see people professing faith with a political activism from that treats people without dignity or respect. Believers through history have fought and killed and crusaded in his name, so one without faith may ask, how are they different from anyone else? Even at the time of Christ there was an expectation for a different type of Messiah — one that would conquer and rule like David. Even if one did choose to follow and believe, they would pay a high price for it and be considered outsiders to the Jews, their families, even their culture. Returning to the story, it is quite possible that the biggest obstacle to faith is Jesus himself.

For those who believe, they will not be stumbled:

Therefore thus says the Lord GOD, “Behold, I am laying in Zion a stone, a tested stone, a costly cornerstone for the foundation, firmly placed. He who believes in it will not be disturbed [shaken, agitated].

Isaiah 28:16 NASB

For those who don’t believe, Jesus will stumble and offend.

What shall we say then? That Gentiles, who did not pursue righteousness, attained righteousness, even the righteousness which is by faith; but Israel, pursuing a law of righteousness, did not arrive at that law. Why? Because they did not pursue it by faith, but as though it were by works. They stumbled over the stumbling stone, just as it is written, ” BEHOLD, I LAY IN ZION A STONE OF STUMBLING AND A ROCK OF OFFENSE, AND HE WHO BELIEVES IN HIM WILL NOT BE DISAPPOINTED.”

Romans 9:30-33 NASB

Jesus knows that the one thing that qualifies me for kingdom life is faith, belief in him — that he is the Messiah, the Son of the Living God, the one sent to redeem me from my sin and set things right again. Not works. Not position. Not history. Not lineage. Nothing else.

The kingdom of God at it’s core is about identity, privilege, position, being accepted and loved. And the lofty place from which man fell (and by extension was intended for every person alive) is hardly recognizable today — or in Galilee where Christ walked. If I were to sit and have someone explain to me the glory and magnificence that my Father intended me to live within and become, I would begin to understand the fierceness of my adversary at wanting to snatch it from me. When people saw Christ, they saw a man. And as you drew nearer to him, you saw a man authentically living out an identity that staggered the imagination — if it was true. Ah, the catch. “If.”  It was either true, or not. He was either the Son of God or he was delusional — and surprise, I’m the judge. The difficulty with accepting comes in many flavors. For me, if what Christ claims is true, it will result in an obvious impact on me, my identity and the realization of my true potential — because it means that I also must accept what he says about me. Ouch! My foot just hit a rock.

Yet, Jesus broke every mold and expectation that the Jews had for their deliverer. And he knew it. When John the Baptist was in prison, suffering under the darkness of doubt, he sent messengers to Jesus asking if he really was the One (something he previously declared publicly himself). Jesus’ reply was gentle but firm:

And blessed is he who does not take offense at Me.

Matthew 11:6 NASB

The journey which separated reality from fiction wasn’t intentional, it’s just that over time people walk so far away from the Father’s heart and let the imagination and mind fill in blanks with ideas that did not originate from heaven or reality.

I can imagine a dialogue with his disciples where he pleads:

“I know I don’t fit the part! I’m not the man that is head and shoulders above everyone else. I’m not riding into Jerusalem on a white stallion with light pulsating around me or a halo on my head. I’m little. Meek. Lowly. Yet, I know who I am and who is in me and with me. And you too can see it. You see the love, the miracles, the evidence of God and his anointing on me. You know in your hearts that I am the one. And I tell you what I hear and know. He is love, and his intent for you is nothing but good. I am telling you in no uncertain terms that by believing on me you will live forever. I am the resurrection and will raise you up. I am your bread, your food, your drink, in fact everything else you have need of. But one other thing is true, it will be very difficult for you to believe this, particularly in the coming days when I am captured and killed. But let me assure you… believe in me, and you won’t be disappointed.”

So fast forward to today. The names have been changed, the circumstances altered, but the situation is the same — can I believe in him? Is he really my bread? My life? My resurrection? Does he really give me what I ask for? Heal my sickness? Whatever I have established as a test of authenticity, my personal benchmark for proving the reality of the Christian faith, I must consider it violated. Why? Because he still requires belief. As assuring as my experiences with God are and as rock solid as my case for Christianity is, I must still choose belief over everything else.

This is personal.

During my lifetime there will be a point (or many points) when everything sacred in my heart will seem violated, just like the disciples experienced many years ago in John 6, and again later when the Messiah was crucified. But just like Jesus told John’s disciples in Matthew 11:6, “the blind see, the deaf hear” and his own disciples concluded in John 6:68 “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life,” I must base my faith on the context, on what I see and know. But at the very same time, not be stumbled by what I see and know… Him.

While I am alive, I will continue to hold my faith in a very precarious balance. Am I willing to continue believing? Like any good friend that I consider close, there are levels of closeness and intimacy that I will begin to explore. What happens when my hero appears to be more vulnerable than I envisioned? Or what happens when he asks me to be more vulnerable than I am capable of? It is in these moment that he will continue to ask me the same question that he asked his original disciples: “Does this cause you to stumble?”

Count on it.