As I move to conclude this series and was in a moment of silence this morning, a short snippet of well-known dialogue popped into my mind. I’ve quoted it before and think of it from time to time. The author is one of a handful of people at the top of my list, with whom I’d like to share a meal and a friendly chat in the next life. His works have deeply influenced me as they have many millions of others. Although long dead, his remarkable wisdom (especially his ability to translate the most complex ideas into the simplest of phrases) is nearly beyond compare. I’m talking about C.S. Lewis, the most well-known of his works being the classic Mere Christianity and the Narnia series of children’s stories. In the first book of that series, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, the second eldest of the four children, Susan, is having a conversation with a beaver about a lion. The beaver tells Susan that she will soon meet the legendary Aslan, who Susan assumed was a man. No, said the beaver, he’s a lion, to which Susan said, “Is he quite safe?” To which the beaver replied, “Safe? Who said anything about safe? Of course he isn’t safe. But he’s good.”

The Narnia books are, together, an extensive allegory about the nature of all of reality. While, on the surface they are wrapped as a delightful set of children’s fiction, there is more than enough to keep adults entranced and deeply thoughtful. The giant lion, Alsan, is the Christ figure, the Jesus who walked the earth for the reasons I’ve been writing about.

So, yes. Jesus is anything but safe. In fact, he’s quite dangerous. He is the Great Disrupter, the one who tells us to die in order to live. And, no one can believe that dying is really an easy thing to do. Safe? No. But, he’s good.

And, therein lies the rub. Therein lies the key to the transformation process. Therein lies the pathway forward for each of us.

Transformation is about shedding the old and wearing the new. When the old is deeply ingrained behaviors, habits, attitudes and beliefs, shedding them can be incredibly difficult. There is a narrative out there that, by accepting Christianity (Jesus), we are then required to forego all sorts of things that make life fun and interesting. That we have to give up a ton of stuff in order to demonstrate piety, adherence to all sorts of rules and edicts. In fact, that’s really not true. Regrettably, many churches teach this and it’s a major reason why people reject the faith. No, the main thing we’re asked to give up is a belief that the things we have always idolized (as all of us do) are hollow or worse as compared to life with God. The fact is that Jesus’ life and ministry was largely a story of feasting and celebration, of the fullness that this life has to offer. It was about parties and laughing and hugging and sharing. It was about love and grace and woe to those who put rules and laws above those two things consistently. They were missing the mark and he begged them to open their eyes to a new way.

What is God’s plan for me? For each of us? Well, once we surrender and recognize that with Jesus at our side, with God at the center, we find that all sorts of resources become available. I could go on and on about this but I’ll just take a stab at a few.

We begin to discover that our identity, the way we think about ourselves, is changing. We begin to see ourselves and others as God sees us and that’s nearly miraculous to behold.

We find that some things we thought were compelling no longer hold as much sway. Some may discover that making new friends and developing new relationships is easier and that there are increased opportunities to do so. We find that going deep in these relationships, sometimes in ways that would have seemed fairly impossible before, opens up entirely new ways of understanding oneself and others.

We are drawn to pray and study, learning to listen for God’s gentle prompting and to respond when we feel his call. And, call he does. This is one of the sticky points and it points to part of the reason for the beaver’s reply. Being open to the call of an all-powerful (and, remember, an all-loving and gracious) God is not safe. Sometimes the call is to do something pretty routine and it comes, as is described, as a “still small voice,” frequently out of nowhere to do something specific, perhaps like approach a stranger kindly. The call can be something stronger, frequently persisting over time, maybe months or years. It doesn’t waver. It doesn’t disappear. It doesn’t necessarily push but it also doesn’t completely disappear if we truly remain open to God’s leading. I have felt all of these. The experience of my friend, Gary, is a case in point. He looks the part of a nuclear physicist. A pocket protector kind of guy (although he has a Grizzly Adams outdoor quality to him as well). Maybe 15+ years ago, he started getting the nudge and it didn’t go away. The nudge became more persistent and it was clear: “Time to go into prison ministry.” As Gary tells it, he was almost looking around the room, thinking God must be talking to someone else. This would be completely foreign and at least a little frightening to him. Finally, the pilgrim that he is, he surrendered and the rest is history. It has changed his life forever and his impact on the lives of hundreds upon hundreds of the most cast off members of our society has been nothing less than remarkable. Safe? No. Easy? No. Hard? Yes. Good? Absolutely.

Another person I’d like at that heavenly lunch table is Dallas Willard. Author of the best book I’ve ever read and I’ve read more than a few. To consolidate all of his teaching down to a few sentences, I’d have to say that his message goes something like this:

Jesus ushered in a thing we can call the Kingdom of God, which is a reorientation of all of reality. The key to this reorientation is, first, to recognize it (which is a head thing) and, second, to understand it is just as much about the heart. (This is me talking … if you had to condense the entire New Testament down to these two things, you’d clearly be on the right track.) Willard goes on to teach that our job is to align our head, heart and will. He is almost describing the work of a chiropractor. We are all out of whack and these need to operate in perfect concert with one another and with the will of God. This is not easy. It requires discipline, just as it does to diet, go to the gym, study for exams or any other task requiring significant effort and a change of habits.

On rare occasions, there is a spontaneous realignment, usually about some single facet of our lives. It is a mystery why this occurs but it clearly does. No struggle. Just presto, change-o. I have come across several people who were deep alcoholics who, when on their knees, literally, pled for Jesus to take it away, and he did. Instantly. My brother-in-law Jack is one of these and he’s been sober for decades. Gone without a fight. I know of other Jesus-followers who are not so fortunate, continuing to struggle with addictive behaviors, debilitative disease and other painful aspects of life. Aside from my inexplicable healing over two years ago, my one experience with such a spontaneous change is with my language. What is interesting about this is that I didn’t ask for it. I used to have quite a colorful vocabulary, largely acquired as a dock-worker in college. It fell into a rhythm, although I had enough sense to know my audience for the most part. Still, I was loose with the profanity, liberally sprinkling them into my speaking as useful adjectives or just plain expletives to emphasize a point. Shortly after I surrendered, I realized that I was offended when I heard such language and that I was no longer speaking that way. In fact, it seemed entirely foreign. I was following no specific teaching and did not feel especially encumbered. I now know why and that it is a piece of the transformation that is going on in my life.

There is a saying in some Christian circles that we need to “lay down our cross (or crosses) each day.” What this means is that each day is a struggle as we lay our heads and hearts open to where God can lead us. Each day, we are challenged with shedding the old and taking on the new. The cross symbolizes the place we give up our individual wills in order to accept the reality of God’s central place in our existence. The pilgrim’s path is hard. It requires surrender and discipline. All transformation does. Oh, but the benefits that arrive, mostly unbidden, are beyond compare. Often, it is two steps forward, one step back or vice versa. Often, we seem to be interminably climbing, as if up a cliff face with few or no handholds, perhaps even dangling, held by some infinitesimal yet all powerful thread. In those moments, when we are at our most vulnerable, we may discover a love so complete that we know heaven is real.

The life of a Jesus-follower is anything but easy. But it is truly good.

What is God’s Plan? We have enough information to make out the broad outlines and to fill in some of the big pieces. It’s a remarkable plan that will seem fantasy to many, ridiculous to some and puzzling to nearly everyone. Each of us are completely free to disregard some or all of it. It does start with a choice. Understandably, there are consequences either way. And, if God does exist and has a grand plan anything close to the one I’ve been describing, he has a plan for each one of us, again giving us a choice. We can choose to follow him or not. If we choose in the affirmative and we mean it, we are bound on a journey that is nothing like we could have imagined. We are given glimpses of heaven on earth and it is magnificent.

I don’t know what tomorrow will bring and that’s ok. I just hope, should I awake, it is with a heart and mind open to God, it is with a prayer that he may give me the eyes to see others as he does, the heart to feel towards others as he does, and the hands and feet to participate with him in the restoration of all things.

Amen.