What Do You Want?

“What do you want?”

It can be a loaded question. Depending on the day and the questioner, we can answer it in a number of ways.

On an average day, my answer would be something like, “a fireplace, lasik surgery, and a trip to the Galápagos Islands.” Minimal needs, really.

What about you?

“What do you want?“ happens to be the first question Jesus asks. What would you say if Jesus asked you that question?

 The following day John was again standing with two of his disciples. As Jesus walked by, John looked at him and declared, “Look! There is the Lamb of God!” When John’s two disciples heard this, they followed Jesus. Jesus looked around and saw them following. “What do you want?” he asked them.

They replied, “Rabbi” (which means “Teacher”), “where are you staying?” “Come and see,” he said. It was about four o’clock in the afternoon when they went with him to the place where he was staying, and they remained with him the rest of the day. (John 1.36-39)

 

What do you want? It’s such a wide open question for these guys. Literally, he asks, “What are you seeking?” He has good reason to ask. People sought out Jesus for a lot of reasons. Some reasons were better than others. If these two were going to present themselves as disciples (which was essentially what their actions said to Jesus), he wants to know from the outset what motivates them.

Imagine if he asked all of us that before we could follow him.

• The rich young man’s reasons were all about how he could manipulate the system to be accepted. Jesus tried to get him to reconsider.
• Simon wanted Israel’s kingdom to come by force. Jesus confronts that interest as limited at best.
• Nicodemus comes in fear and fascination. Jesus prods him to consider carefully exactly why he’s there.
• Zaccheus needed salvation—and he got it.
• Many longed for healing—and they got it, too.
• Others craved signs and wonders, miracles and circuses. He told them to go look for someone else. He didn’t come to be their sideshow.

All the time his question lingers in the air for all of them—what do you want?

What do we want?

If we’re honest, sometimes our motivations for following Jesus are more about us than about him.

What would you say if he turned around to you and asked—What do you want? What are you looking for?

Andrew and, we guess John, answered with another question. (They caught on quickly.)

“Where are you staying?”

The question was their way of saying, “Where you are, we want to be there also.”

Good answer, gentlemen.

Jesus gives us all the verbs we need when confronted with his question—what do you want?

We want to come, see, and follow.

Come

 

“Come” is an invitation to His life. Join me. Walk beside me. Journey with me through this thing called the kingdom of God. Let’s be companions and ultimately friends and brothers and sisters on this trip. Come.

See

When I was eight, the school told my parents I needed glasses. I didn’t think so. I could see just fine. Until the doctor put that first pair of blue cat eye glasses on my face. Then, I could SEE. There were so many beautiful things that had been so hazy for so long I didn’t even realize it.

Come and SEE, for the first time. Look around you and find out what it’s like to have a ringside seat to God’s victory over sin and remaking of the world. It’s way better than the miracle sideshows you want to be content with. CS Lewis said,

“It would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.” (The Weight of Glory)

Jesus’ invitation is to see what he’s up to—and come along with.

Follow

I love that just before this in John 1 we hear that Jesus is the word of God in human form. We can study God’s word in his book. And we should. But not to exclusion of studying the Word of God. To follow Jesus is to study God’s word in the flesh.

What are you looking for? Sometimes, honestly, we’re more often looking for rules to follow and laws to memorize than the living Word. We want the newest version of how to live and be good, Phariseeism 2.0, rather than to face the persistent questions of a visible God.

Jesus says, “I’m not your guy for that. I am The Word. Study me.”

Dig in deep. Get your hands dirty. Live with me and live like me. Gospel with me. You’ll see that it’s a verb the more you do it. Jesus didn’t spread good news, he was good news. Following him means we are, too.

Nichole Nordeman sings (in a song that could be my autobiography):

“And you cannot imagine all the places you’ll see Jesus–You’ll find Him everywhere you thought He wasn’t supposed to go. So go!” (Dear Me)

Go. Be the follower ofd the wild, untamed, unreligious, homeless, challenging, demanding, healing, reconciling capital W word of God.

WHAT DO YOU want? If he asked that, what would you say?

It’s the most important answer you might ever make.

Dirty Laundry: Questioning the Have-To’s of Our Lives

One of our cats prefers to hang out in the clean laundry basket. Whatever. I’m so used to cat hair on my clothes I don’t stress too much over the fact that he gets it there before I’ve even had a chance to put them away. 

But the other day he hunkered down in there while I was actually doing the laundry. So it happened that I began to toss clean folded laundry on top of him. Hey, if you’re going to lounge around where I’m working, expect to get buried in stuff. 

He did not move. No matter how many clean clothes I piled on top of him, on he slept. He may have opened a slightly perturbed eye now and then, but he had no plan to get out of that basket anytime soon.

Sitting in Dirty Laundry?

At first, I wondered what to make of this. I mean, wouldn’t a normal human being (read that cat) want to maybe move away if he was being suffocated in stuff? Then I thought about it a bit more. And I wondered how often that was true in my own life. How many times have I sat there while life, or other people, piled things on top of me? I just took them and slept on. When it would make sense to wake up and say, “Hey! Didn’t you notice me in here?” and then get the heck our from underneath all that junk, sometimes I don’t behave any smarter than the cat.

Comfortable Excuses Reasons

There may be lot of crap being piled on top of me, but I am comfortable. Moving is work. Moving means finding a new place to be. It means giving up the known and comfortable basket and making the effort to walk away toward other options.

Raise of hands—how many of you do that consistently? I thought so.

I know so, because I hear it all the time.

• I’d like more time together at home but I have to take my kid to four practices this week. . .
• I would hang out but there’s this project at work someone else was supposed to do and now. . .
• My family expects me to host this big dinner and I can’t take the stress . . .
• I’m going to feel so guilty if I don’t do this the way my in-laws want it done. . .
• There are two meetings and an outreach event and a kids’ camp at church this week, and I really should be there . . .
• It’s my three-year-old’s birthday and I have to make zoo cupcake trains. (Is that even a thing?!)

Did you notice some of the common words in those all-too-real scenarios? Expect. But. Supposed to. Guilt. Should. Have to.

Ask the Questions

There is all kinds of stuff being piled on us all the time, and we accept it because it comes with those magically guilt-inducing words: “have to.” When was the last time you looked at one of those expectations and asked, “Do I really?”

• Do I really have to put my kid in all those sports, or can I step off that wild ride?
• Do I really have to complete someone else’s work, or am I just controlling that it has to get done?
• Do I really have to host a dinner for family, or can we call it a potluck?
• Do I really have to craft a birthday party that rivals Martha Stewart and Disney combined, or will a family get together with a cake and candles do fine?

What are we afraid is going to happen if we question the have-to’s in our life? .

Hard truth–We put too much blame on what others are throwing on us and take too little responsibility for not moving out from underneath it all. Their laundry is stifling, but at least we know we’re comfortably in control of making others happy. We know we’re needed. We know it will get done right. 

Let’s be honest, more often than not, if we’re sitting under a load of stuff, we have chosen to sit there. We could get out. But we’re afraid to leave the warm security, even if it’s slowly suffocating us.

• What’s the worst thing that can happen if I say no?
• What terrible tragedy will take place if I decide to let something go I think I have to control?
• What world will spin out if I choose to let others be responsible for themselves?

• Will I still be a worthwhile, loved person if I get out from under the pile?

As Jen Hatmaker writes in For the Love,

“We no longer assess our lives with any accuracy. We have lost the ability to declare a job well-done. We measure our performance against an invented standard and come up wanting, and it is destroying our joy. No matter how hard we work or excel in an area or two, it never feels like enough. Our primary defaults are exhaustion and guilt. Meanwhile, we have beautiful lives begging to be really lived, really enjoyed, really applauded—and it is simpler than we dare hope.”

Jump Out

How simple? Get out of the laundry basket. Decide now that the world will not implode if you don’t please everyone or control the outcome of everything. Start asking yourself the questions: Do I really? What’s the worst that could happen? Will I still matter?

It’s doubt on that last one that kills us. So let’s settle it now. You are a human being made in the image of God. (At least I think you’re human. If you’re not, and you’re reading this blog, pleeeease send me a video.)

That image has never been rescinded. It’s never been recalled. It’s never been contingent on how much you’ve done to earn it. It was a done deal at creation. If someone else wants to doubt that about you, that’s their big ol’ mess of laundry, not yours. Pitch it off.

That’s why we have beautiful lives begging to be really lived. It was wired into us from the beginning. Lived in the sense of knowing all the way through us that it is freer outside of the basket where the air is clear. (Especially if it’s dirty laundry being thrown on us. Eeew.) It only seems scarier just before you jump out.