Jesus?

A few months ago I started feeling convicted that I wasn’t find joy in my relationship with Jesus. I prayed about why that was, and I realized that I didn’t feel like I knew Him. To remedy that, I decided to read a gospel. I chose Matthew.

Honestly, my expectation in starting this study was to see Jesus as so wonderful and captivating that I wouldn’t be able to help but fall completely in love with Him. My anticipation was to see him as the compassionate healer and the risen king. And that’s all true, but I’m also seeing Him in a completely different way.

Currently, I am in the Sermon on the Mount. I don’t know about you, but when I hear “Sermon on the Mount,” I think about The Beatitudes, and I get warm fuzzies. The Beatitudes, though, are only 10 verses out of the 110 in the sermon. After that, the tone changes. It’s no longer “Blessed are you.” It changes to “Woe.” He reminds the people of what true righteousness really is. Jesus tells us just how fall short we’ve fallen of perfection. He calls me out on lowering the standard. “You think you’re not sinner because you haven’t killed anyone? Perfection means you always love people and seek their best. You think you’re not a sinner because you never cheated on anyone? Sinlessness means making a covenant with your eyes never to look on a person besides your spouse. You think you’re not a sinner because you’ve never broken an oath? True righteousness means you’ve never spoken anything but God’s honest truth.”

I’ve felt like I just keeping slammed with “You’re not good enough. You can’t do it.” This Jesus is a strict pedant with high expectations that I can never meet. What do you do with that? If you’re me, you argue for a while. I’ve never found that I could win any argument with the Almighty, though, so then you repent of that and try harder to be what God says you have to be to be righteous. Then you fail. And then you get pissed off and argue some more. Eventually you get sick of the merry-go-round. Then you jump off and admit defeat. I can’t do it. I’m not perfect.

The weird thing is, it doesn’t feel too bad. I fight against admitting I’m not perfect because I expect that the admission will come with despair and depression. If I’m depressed and despairing, though, I haven’t really surrendered. The depression and despair are there because deep down, I still feel like I have to measure up. Truly admitting how wicked I am cancels that out. I, Emily Hunt, am a wicked sinner. I am hateful, deceitful, and cruel. How can that possibly be a joyful admission?

To be honest, I’m not at the joy yet. I’m still angry because I want to be self-righteous. But I can see the joy. The joy is Jesus. I’m not perfect, but He was and is. My righteousness is bankrupt, but He says he’ll cover my debt. The only way I can stand before God is by claiming my big brother.

Jesus met every single one of his impossibly high standards. He loved selflessly, recklessly, without hope of return. His love comes from His own goodness, not the goodness of those He loves.

Jesus’ perfection is so complete I find it off-putting. His righteousness exposes my own as false. And I hate him for that. He shows me that I am horrid and will not allow the possibility of pretending otherwise. I do not want to come to his light because I know that truly seen, I must be recognized as bad. I didn’t ask for it. I don’t want it. But here He is. Jesus came into my life, disrupted my sense of self, and I can never go back. Pretending I’m good is no longer an option for me.

All this “You suck” business has turned out to be the thing that makes Jesus captivating. I must fall in love with Him because He is the only way. Outside of Him is Nothing.