Worship, Music, and Spirituality: Ohh…the Things We Do for Jesus!
As a team-building exercise in my CPE (Clinical Pastoral Education) unit, we went rock climbing. I hated it and broke every one of my well-manicured nails. As a representative of the church, I went to various events and spaces that were not meant for me, a single Black woman, and I hated it. At every church potluck, I tried everyone’s Jell-O moulds, and I really hated them (particularly the one with cottage cheese floating in it). And yet, I did all of those things, with a smile, for Jesus, I told myself.
Somewhere down this long road of faith, I ingested the dangerous myth that following Jesus should be hard and that every formidable disciple has to endure several years of scut work (and build resilience for questionable food). I believed that if I was not suffering, agonizing, taking risks, and making sacrifices, if it didn’t hurt, I was not doing it right. Somewhere, I picked up the mantra “The heavier the cross, the greater the faith.” I never questioned my motivations beyond this principle.
I never asked myself questions like Does choosing to suffer through these external things that I despise make me more faithful or less faithful? What is my actual motivation? And is it helpful? Is it advancing Christ’s cause? Of course, we can all think of examples when we (or our ancestors) ardently thought that we were following the way of justice, the way of love, the Way of Jesus, only to learn that we were misguided and, in fact, feeding the very thing we claimed to fight against. A lack of questioning is dangerous.
It wasn’t until people described to me the things I’d done because I felt called to do so, such as leaving a cushy job (that I was lucky to land at 24) to go and work for the church or marching in Washington the first time Trump was elected, as leaps of faith, that I started to question this guiding principle.
For me, those decisions were simply part of following Jesus, and following someone I love and whom I believe wants what is best for me is easy even when it is uncomfortable or hard. It’s like following my grandma. When I was young, I followed her everywhere, and every summer, she had me doing all sorts of scut work. I remember one summer she had me use mothballs to clean out a barrel she had purchased at a discounted price, a barrel that had been used to ship garlic powder. I hate mothballs, and I detested crawling into a barrel that stank of garlic, but I loved it, and I would do it again, because I love my grandma. I want what is best for her always, and I know that she wants what is best for me.
In my faithful actions, a lack of discernment is dangerous, but not as dangerous as a lack of love. The deeper my relationship with Jesus grows, the more willing I am to do hard things, question my motivations, and take responsibility for my actions. If I want what is best for the people involved, it makes more sense for me to be in honest conversation with them than to just embrace the scut work that may or may not be needed. If I love Jesus and want the best for those he loves, then I can pivot as needed and do some things I may not enjoy (because it is not about me and my distaste for cheese curds floating in gelatin).
Following Jesus is not hard; following his way in a society that is so contrary to love is hard. Like those first disciples, I choose to follow in the way of love, even if it means I stink of garlic!
In solidarity,
Alydia
Alydia Smith, Program Coordinator, Worship, Music, and Spirituality
