Walking Together

Over the last two weeks, we've been exploring what it means to become the kind of people Jesus is forming us to be.

In Psalm 139 we were reminded that we are fully known by God and deeply loved still. Before we ever talk about mission, service, obedience, or discipleship, we begin there. We begin with a God who sees us completely and does not turn away.

Then this past Sunday in Micah 6 we asked a natural follow-up question: If we really are known and loved by God, what kind of life grows out of that relationship?

Micah's answer was surprisingly simple: Do justice. Love mercy. Walk humbly with your God... Not perform, impress, or pretend. Walk humbly with your God.

The more I have reflected on that invitation this week, the more I realize how difficult it can be. Most of us have spent our lives learning to prove ourselves. We prove ourselves at work. We prove ourselves in school. We prove ourselves in relationships.

We prove ourselves through accomplishment, productivity, success, knowledge, influence, and achievement. Even faith can quietly become another place where we feel pressure to perform.

The gospel keeps inviting us somewhere different. The gospel begins with grace. Before we do anything for God, we are loved by God. Before we accomplish anything for God, we are welcomed by God. Before we prove ourselves, we are invited to receive grace.

That doesn't mean growth doesn't matter. It does. Scripture calls us to maturity, faithfulness, obedience, and transformation. But those things grow best when they emerge from relationship rather than performance.

Honestly, that is one of the reasons I have been thinking so much about sabbatical lately. As I prepare for this season of rest and renewal, I keep finding myself returning to a simple truth: Jesus is remarkably comfortable being Jesus.

He does not seem anxious about proving Himself. He is never frantic. He is never driven by insecurity. He is fully surrendered to the Father's presence and purpose.

And perhaps one of the greatest challenges of discipleship is learning to trust Him enough to live that way ourselves.

Part of what a sabbatical represents for me is an opportunity to practice that trust. To remember that my identity is not ultimately found in what I produce, accomplish, or achieve. It is found in belonging to Christ.

But the more I think about it, the more I realize that lesson is not just for pastors. It is for all of us. Many of us are carrying burdens we were never meant to carry. Many of us are trying to control outcomes we cannot control.

Many of us are exhausted from trying to hold everything together. Jesus continues to offer the same invitation: Come to Me. Abide in Me. Remain in Me. Walk with Me. Trust Me.

This coming Sunday, we're going to take the next step in this conversation. Eventually we have to ask another question:

Where does this kind of life actually happen?

If following Jesus is not merely private spirituality, then where are we formed? Who helps us grow? Who reminds us of grace when we forget? The answer Scripture gives is surprisingly simple.

We need one another. We need the church. Not a perfect church. Not an impressive church. Just a community of imperfect people learning to follow a perfect Savior together.

As we prepare for Sunday, maybe spend a few moments reflecting on these questions: Where am I tempted to find my identity in performance rather than grace? What burden am I carrying that Jesus may be inviting me to release? And who are the people God has placed in my life to help me keep walking with Him?

Stay Churchy My Friends,

Adam