We underestimate how difficult it must have been for the disciples to follow Jesus.

We know it was hard; after all, they left their traditional lives — their jobs, their families, their communities — to follow this man they barely knew and hoped was a Messiah.  However, consider honestly the impact of those decisions:

• how would you respond if you no longer had a traditional stream of income after years of following, and needs kept presenting themselves?
• how would you feel if your family did not understand your decision, and questioned your life choices often?
• how would you feel if more and more you looked, and felt, like an outsider to the rest of the world?

The disciples left their traditional lives because they believed following Jesus was the best move, even before they understood him.  Yet over time their decision had real ramifications.  They were questioned, insulted, and threatened regularly.  The man they followed began to say confusing and even dangerous things; they simultaneously knew more about Jesus than most, and yet understood very little.  They watched others who had walked with them turn away (John 6:66) and no doubt began to question their own perception of not just Jesus, but reality itself. Towards the end, their weaknesses were exploited; Judas’ financial fear and frustration was used for betrayal, and the enemy threatened Peter’s self-preservation to the point of denial.  All these disciples died to self — their ways of life, their dreams, their safety — in ways most wouldn’t, and in the end the road seemed to them either too hard, or a dead-end.

Whether they felt hopeless like Judas, frightened like Peter, or at a loss like the men heading to Emmaus, the disciples discovered how unimaginably hard it can be to follow Jesus into the next season.

Jesus knew:

“Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it.  But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.”
Matthew 7:13-14

Jesus saw the world as it was, an ever-repeating realm where people sought self-preservation and self-advancement, always believing the “way” they perceive is the best, usually because everyone else seems headed that way (though those they follow are following unreliable guides; “If the blind lead the blind, both will fall into a pit.” (Matthew 15:14b)  He saw this endless pursuit of security, comfort, control, wealth, power, etc. in a reality that promised none of that, and watched as people failed to find what they pursued, or were never satisfied when they did.  He knew that they were all going through a wide gate that would never lead to full life, so he offered another way.

Many wouldn’t listen, because they knew how life worked, and this Jesus guy was speaking foolishness; they hardened their hearts as they claimed, “your path doesn’t make sense.”

Some would listen, and for a time would willingly ignore the gate that seemed better for this mystery small gate.  Yet the longer the journey and harder the road, the more fatigued and frustrated they became with the search, and eventually — whether in an explosion or quite fading — they turned and went back to the “normal” gate.

“But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.”  Only a few find it.  These words often strike me: who am I to think I could be among the few?  What is so different about me that I would see something so many don’t?  How can I be sure I’m really on the right path?

If you are a Christ-follower, you naturally want to assume you will find the narrow gate; it is spiritually heathy to own how difficult a search this will be.  This can seem daunting, but it is actually good news, because it means your search is not dependent on you; you do not have to be strong enough, or smart enough, or skilled enough, or spiritual enough.

You simply have to choose to stay in the search.

I write this after a long, honest conversation with God during a drive.  Much has not gone as I’d hoped this year, and there may be potential hard change in the year ahead.  I was blunt with God that I have tried in so many ways to reject the wide-gate for the narrow, and end up feeling much like the disciples at the start of this writing, facing unfair hardship and confusing negative outcomes.

Yet I was also blunt with my landing point: I’m still committed to Him, regardless of my strength, desire, or understanding.  “I’ll walk into the fire, God.”

I write this on the final day of one of my harder years, and though He did not respond with an angelic choir or miraculous sign, I’ve been on the journey long enough to know that those are bonuses, not necessities.  I can choose to follow Him — yes — but can also grow in sensing Him even when He seems absent.  I know He is with me, though today I feel alone; I know He goes ahead of me, even though the road that leads to life is so very hard to find right now.

That little sense is not so little, because it miraculously keeps me going when my humanity would have been done a hundred times prior.

And that is God with us.  He is present as the tiniest whisper that somehow moves the mountains of our hopelessness.

Many of you have shared similar struggles this year; if you are wrestling to know what following Jesus into the next year looks like, know that I see and hear you.

The title of this post is for you.  It was almost “Can I follow Jesus into the new year?”, but the Spirit stopped me, and I didn’t understand why.  Now I do.

No, I can’t.  I’ve reached my limit more times than I know; but He can through me, and that’s the whole point.  The journey was never meant to be a solo journey.

You can’t either, so stop trying to hold this together on your own.  God is with you, so let Him be.

It isn’t a question of “can I”, but “will I” follow Jesus; I will… will you?

 

“Today, if you hear his voice,
do not harden your hearts.”

Psalm 95:7, Hebrews 4:7