My friend Byron Borger, who has been an occasional guest on these pages, has a blog called Hearts and Minds Booknotes devoted to reviewing books that he sells in his shop.
In the course of discussing a set of books by a couple of authors affiliated with an organization called the Rutba Group, Byron remarks that he was "a bit surprised that nobody commented on these extraordinary books which make such expansive claims that we should all live like Jesus."
The last clause in Byron's remark got me to wondering exactly what it means to live like Jesus.
I jotted down some thoughts off the top of my head and sent them along to him. On this Palm Sunday it might be appropriate to share them with you, with only some minor emendations, along with his reply:
I thought about your comment, By, or at least the last six words of it, and I've asked myself about it a couple of questions to which, as is often the case, I have no good answers.
To what extent would the authors you write about say we should pattern our lives after that of Jesus? Don't misunderstand. I agree that Christ is our model, but I just don't know how far we are to take the idea of modelling our life upon that of Jesus.
If we are to take it as far as possible, of course, then we should all remain single and devote our lives fully to itinerantly preaching God's word. I suppose the Rutba group would agree that that radical sense of Christ-likeness is not incumbent upon us all, but I wonder why not.
I think the question is important because once we agree that marriage, family, and vocation are all valid callings then we find that everything changes. A single man with no job or family has relatively little stake in society. He can afford to be a John the Baptist, a prophet. All of his decisions affect mostly just him. But a husband, father, and employee has other responsibilities. He has, to take one example, an obligation to be a protector of his wife and children. As a wage-earner, provider, and citizen he also has a political obligation to society that the prophet, who sees himself, really, as none of these, can transcend.
Our status as husband, father, employee, and citizen affects our views on war and the use of force, material possessions like homes, cars, etc., and political ideology and governance. The prophet can rise above these and not soil himself in the nitty-gritty of life as it is lived by those who don't pattern their lives after that of Jesus to the extent the prophet does, but not having to live in the midst of life's nitty-gritty is not a "luxury" many of us have or feel called to.
It's one thing to live like Jesus by remaining single and living in a commune, rising above the cares of those whose commitments are less radical, but as soon as we begin to deviate from the pattern of Jesus' life in even the smallest particular we find that the consequences ramify.
So, I guess what I'm wondering is where, exactly, would the Rutba writers draw the line in terms of following Christ's example as a model for our own lives, and why would they draw it there and not somewhere else? What does it mean, in other words, to live like Jesus in 2006?
I don't expect you to respond to these questions because I'm sure you don't feel that you can speak for those guys. Even so, the line in your blog that I quoted above caused some thoughts to crystallize which had been bouncing around in the back of my mind for some time, and I wanted to share them with you.
Dick
Byron's reply is here:
Thanks Dick, good conversation. I don't want to minimize the cost of discipleship or the radical call to live fully for Christ (or to minimize his direct teachings.) But your questions are good ones. I don't think "what would Jesus do" is exactly the right question (I was chided last week for this reason by a friend who is convinced it is the wrong question, and I wasn't hard enough on an article that went in that direction and which I applauded.)
Anyway, I don't know if you were able to read through my full review of Irresistible but I did spend the last half of it mildly rebuking them for not being committed to ordinary careers and middle class cares and for being basically against institutions. I like their revolutionary spirit (and am a little suspicious of you saying that once you're married those kinds of concerns may not be as pressing....why are we willing to tolerate young men leaving their wives and children to fight in a war, but might find it excessive if they, say, pick up a hitchhiker or give away the family budget??) But, I still find the personalistic tradition, being like Francis, being like Jesus, not quite the way to go. So I hear you and appreciate your concern. Thanks.
One thing, though, that comes to mind: Jesus himself may not be the model--obviously, we need not wear his outfit, eat the same food, and be unmarried, since those things were contextualized to his calling and culture. But his teachings--ah, that is another matter. He spoke as one with authority, representing the perfect will of God. If he said to give to whomever asks, live simply, love all, not take oaths, eat with the sinners and invite the poor to your parties, well...that isn't a peculiar mimicking of his contextualized habits--like riding a donkey--but get to the heart of his message, his definition of the Kingdom, His holy commands, his ethical lifestyle. It seems fairly easy, doesn't it, to sort out the former from the later, to take seriously his ethical commands and ethos, and ignore his dietary and fashion tastes...
The question of having no wealth, being itinerate, even, are a bit in the middle ground; he didn't forbid those things, exactly, at least not having a home, but they do seem to nearly come with the territory of his teachings of being free from worldly care...
Byron
