The Price of Calling Oneself a Follower John 6:56-69

I remember my first few months of college. I had become active in a Christian fellowship group, and we had neat buttons and slogans and such. It was the tail-end of the so-called "Jesus Movement" of the early 1970's. I recall going with a buddy of mine to the "Jesus Barn" to a prayer meeting. There were bales of hay, and people playing guitars and everyone was singing. It was just about perfect, especially when, during prayer requests, I raised my hand quite innocently, and then, during prayer, a pretty girl behind me laid her hand on my shoulder. There lots of pretty girls in the movement, though they seemed not to notice me at all.I remember returning to school the next fall and our little Christian fellowship group was at odds with itself. Some of the more spiritually "mature" members of the group were dictating what proper belief should be, and it fell to the group to figure out how these new dictum's applied to each member. For my part, I was not comfortable with some of things being required, especially when it came to an insistence that those who were truly saved should evidence the gift of speaking in tongues. It never came easily to me, and I never felt that it was something essential for my personal faith's journey. The breaking point for me came when two friends were intent on casting a demon out of a cassette tape, while I was trying to study for an Old Testament exam. They raised the window, anointed everything that didn't move with oil, and went into a fit of glossolalia that would have made the folks at the Tower of Babel marvel. After all of that, the cassette still would not work. Then one of them stuck a pencil eraser into one of the cogs, and it freed up the tape. A miracle! Never mind that I had suggested doing just that before the evening's activities began. My experience was not unlike many young people during that time of transition in our lives, and in the life of America. The pain and protest of the 60's had given way to the ennui of the 70's. Christian faith, at least in my circle, became a very private, and very self-centered affair. All I knew for certain was that what others told me must be the standard for my faith did not feel right to me. The next year I befriended our new college chaplain who insisted that Christian faith could not be separated from hard choices and social justice. This was very new for many of us, and he did not attract everyone in the Christian fellowship, but many of us saw something deep and rich that we had not found before his arrival. For us, he combined the energy of a lively spirituality with a tried and tested pragmatic faith. He influences me still, and my appreciation of God's justice springs from the things that he taught me. But I still do not perceive that the majority of Americans who identify loudly with the Christian faith embrace the difficult parts of the faith that Jesus talked about. Some of those things are not popular because they demand sacrifice and thinking in new ways about who God's people are. In John's gospel, a hoard of disciples abandoned Jesus until just twelve remained, and one of those would eventually leave to betray him. The Jesus Movement was a wonderful time in my life, even though it was a spiritually shallow one. At its best, it made me feel that my faith was alive and I was excited to be with others who shared the faith. At its worst, it made the faith all about me, and how superior I could be to others who did not agree with me. Now, Jesus felt that he was right, also had many who did not agree with him. So, what, you ask, is the difference? Well, Jesus pointed beyond himself to another and a totally different way of thinking about God and the world. It seems that, in some quarters of American Christianity, at least, those who witness to Christ cannot help but point to themselves and their accomplishments, and they are very happy with some of the injustices in the world that do not cause them to move out of their comfort zones. All that's missing is the hay bales.