Have you ever noticed how much value we place on choice? Nothing is out of bounds as long as we respect an individual’s choice. We live in a culture of consensual morality. Nothing is immoral sexually, as long as it is freely chosen. A doctor can murder as long as the patient, be it a pregnant woman or a terminally ill adult, chooses death. Even traffic laws can be tied back to choice. You cannot speed or drive intoxicated because you may injure someone who had no choice in the matter.

Photo credit: Bohman via Creative Commons

We believe we possess the right to choose virtually anything we want, and if we hear even a hint of our rights being infringed upon, we respond with incredible vigor. Pro-choice advocates are afraid of regulations on the sanitation and safety of an abortion clinic because they believe it will lead to the restriction of a woman’s right to choose. And gun advocates are against universal background checks because they believe it is the first step in the government taking away all our guns. We are so afraid of losing our right to choose we give up common sense.

Freedom is an incredible gift bought at a great price. I am grateful that I live a country with the right to free speech and assembly. I am thankful for the freedom to choose what I watch and read, but how does our view of freedom fit in the kingdom of God? Is our culture’s view of freedom (All things are permissible as long as they do not impose on another’s right to choose.) compatible with the kingdom of God?

Throughout the Gospels, Jesus confronts people whose hold on one thing or another keeps them from fully following him. There are the three men in Luke 9, the Rich Young Ruler in Mark 10, and even Nicodemus came to Jesus in the middle of the night (probably because he was concerned about what the other Pharisees would think). I often wonder what sort of things we might be clinging to a bit too tightly? Today I am wondering if choice is a common distraction from following Jesus in the American church.

Choice, when you really get down to it, is a way of keeping ourselves on the throne of our lives. It keeps us in control, and is directly opposed to the starting point of following Jesus, surrender. Political freedom is great, but we cannot confuse it with the freedom offered in Christ. And we need to be vigilant against our high value of political freedom infiltrating our lives as disciples, a life built on the foundation of loving surrender to the will of the Father.

There are a couple of men I have known in my life who have made me think, “I hope I can be like him someday.” And then there is Dallas Willard. On one hand, I want desperately to be like him. On the other hand, he was so amazing I can hardly believe it is possible for an ordinary human being to be so humble, kind and loving while also consistently being the most intelligent man in the room. But that is the amazing beauty of the earthly life of Dallas Willard. He was a living example of the real possibility of a with-God life.

I remember attending a conference with Dallas and another well known author. During a Q&A session they were asked if it is possible this side of heaven to be so close to Jesus that you are constantly aware of his presence. The other speaker said she doubted it. She thought we would always struggle with this to some extent in our fallen state in a fallen world. Then she looked at Dallas and asked if he thought it possible. “I do,” he replied, “because I am constantly aware of his presence.” Amazingly there was not even a speck of pride in his voice. If I had heard anyone else utter those words I would have dismissed it as delusion, but with Dallas, I believed it.

The Bible says Enoch walked with God. He didn’t die but was taken directly into heaven. I have often wondered what that transition was like for him. Did he know he passed from one side of death to the other, or was he so close to God that it took him some time to notice? When Dallas was diagnosed with cancer he said, “I think that, when I die, it might be some time until I know it.” I have little doubt Dallas was as close to God as Enoch was when he passed through the veil. And perhaps Dallas is still unaware the earthly portion of his life has ended.

There are two things Dallas taught that changed my life. I doubt I could count all I have learned from him, but these two things absolutely changed the way I understand God, Jesus and the Gospel. The first is present reality of the kingdom of God. Jesus didn’t come so we can go to heaven when we die. He came so we can experience eternal life now. We do not have two lives. We have one eternal life that will continue after death. The second is that I should not try to live my life like Jesus. I should seek to live my life as Jesus would if he were me. The point is we are all unique individuals with unique personalities, experiences, gifts and values. We shouldn’t seek to be Jesus, we should become the unique people God created us to be.

Dallas, we love you. You will be greatly missed.

What follows is a post originally published a few years ago. Its message has become very appropriate again in my life.

I recently began work on a new project. It is a new area for me, so the learning curve is steep. In the first few weeks, I was constantly uncomfortable. I couldn’t rely on previous experience and knowledge to lead my team, and I only understood about a third of what was being said in meetings. (I began to think I needed to learn a new language.)

After a few weeks and risking embarrassment countless times by asking questions like, “What is the ACC” or “What is the right way to report our merics?” I began to feel more comfortable. Based on a slightly less elevated heart rate and a somewhat shallower pit in my stomach, I could tell I was settling into my role. But that settling left a bad taste in my mouth. I was disturbed by the idea of getting comfortable. I have come to the realization that I don’t want to be comfortable.

Discomfort is a fertilizer for spiritual growth. When I am uncomfortable, I am open.  I am willing to ask questions.  I am willing to let others give advice, and I respect their opinions.

When I am uncomfortable I am aware of my shortcomings. In a word, discomfort makes me humble. I am willing to ask questions and lean into the understanding of others. I admit I don’t have all the answers. I don’t even know some of the questions. I need the help of those around me.

When I am uncomfortable and humble I focus on myself a lot less. I don’t think about my status, and because I am not trying to impress others, I am free to ask questions. I am also (perhaps most surprising to those who know me well) more willing to be quiet and simply listen.  When I am uncomfortable and humble I don’t feel the need to prove myself to others. I speak and act based on what is needed from me, not based on what acclaim I can win in others.

When I am uncomfortable and humble I am more open to the opinions of others. If I disagree with someone, I can’t judge the idea, because there is a very good chance there is something I don’t understand, and perhaps if I understood more, I would not disagree.  I can’t assume I know better than others. I am forced to lean into them to grow in knowledge and understanding. I assume I have something to learn from others.

Am I still writing about the new project? I wish I was better at approaching the rest of my life like this project.  If I was more willing to embrace the discomfort of life I would experience greater, deeper and more authentic growth. Lord, help me change the way I deal with discomfort.