Platt - The radical question: what is Jesus worth to you?

I magine a scene that took place in Asia not long ago:

A room in an ordinary house, dimly lit, all the blinds on the windows closed. Twenty leaders from churches in the region sit quietly in a circle on the floor, their Bibles open. They speak in hushed tones or not at all. Some still glisten with sweat; others clothes and shoes are noticeably dusty. They have been walking or riding bicycles since early morning when they left distant villages to get here.

Whenever a knock is heard or a suspicious sound drifts in, everyone freezes while a burly, tough-looking man gets up to check things out.

These men and women have gathered in secret, arriving intentionally at different times throughout the day so as not to draw attention. In this country it is illegal for Christians to come together like this. If caught, the people here could lose their land, their jobs, their families, even their lives

I was in that dimly lit room that day, a visitor from America. I huddled next to an interpreter, who helped me understand their stories as they began to share.

The tough-looking manour head of securitywas the first to speak up. But as he spoke, his intimidating appearance quickly gave way to reveal a tender heart.

Some of the people in my church have been pulled away by a cult, he said. Tears welled up in his eyes. We are hurting. I need Gods grace to lead my church through these attacks.

The cult that had been preying on his church is known for kidnapping Christians, taking them to isolated locations, and torturing them, my interpreter explained. Many brothers and sisters in the area would never tell the good news again. At least not with words. Their tongues had been cut out.

The tough-looking man
was the first to speak up.

A woman on the other side of the room spoke next. Some of the members in my church were recently confronted by government officials, she said. They threatened their families, saying that if they did not stop gathering to study the Bible, they were going to lose everything they had. She asked for prayer, then said, I need to know how to lead my church to follow Christ even when it costs them everything.

I looked around the room. Now everyone was in tears. They looked at one another, then several said at once, We need to pray.

Immediately they went to their knees, and with their faces on the floor, they began to cry out with muted intensity to God. Their praying was not marked by lofty language but by heartfelt praise and pleading.

O God, thank you for loving us!

O God, we need you!

Jesus, we trust in you!

Jesus, you are worthy!

One after another they prayed while others wept.

After about an hour the room grew silent, and the men and women rose from the floor. All around the room, on the floor where each had prayed, I saw puddles of tears.

The brothers and sisters in that Asian country have shown by their sacrifices just how much Jesus is worth to them. He is worth everything to them.

And they are not alone.

They are joined by brothers and sisters in Sudan who believe Jesus is worthy of their trust, even amid pain and persecution of genocidal proportions.

They are joined by brothers and sisters in India who believe Jesus is worthy of their devotion, even when they face threats from Muslim extremists in the north and Hindu extremists in the south.

They are joined by brothers and sisters all over the Middle East who believe Jesus is worthy of their love, even when their family members threaten to kill them for professing belief in him.

They are joined by brothers and sisters around the world who believe Jesus is worthy of all their hopes, all their dreams, all their desires, all their possessions, all their plans, and all their lives.

But are they joined by you and me?

Three weeks after traveling to underground house churches in Asia, I began my first Sunday as the pastor of a church in America. The scene was much different. No dimly lit rooms here; we were occupying an auditorium with theater-style lighting. Instead of traveling for miles by foot or bicycle to gather for worship, we had all arrived in millions of dollars worth of vehicles. Dressed in our fine clothes, we sat in cushioned chairs.

To be honest, there was not much at stake. Many had come because this was their normal routine. Some had come simply to check out the new pastor. I dont think any had come at the risk of their lives.

In America, the scene was
much different. We had
all arrived in millions of
dollars worth of vehicles.

That afternoon crowds filled the parking lot of our sprawling multimillion-dollar church campus for a celebration. Moms, dads, and their kids jumped around together on inflatable games brought in for the occasion. Church members discussed a plan for using the adjacent open land to build state-of-the-art recreation fields and facilities to support more events like this. Everyone, it seemed, looked forward to a successful future.

Please dont misunderstand this scene Im describing. It was filled with wonderful, Bible-believing Christians who genuinely wanted to welcome me and enjoy one another. People like you and mepeople who desire community, who want to be involved in church, and who believe God is important in their lives. But as a new pastor comparing the images around me that day with the pictures, still fresh in my mind, of brothers and sisters on the other side of the world, I could not help but think that somewhere along the way we in America have lost touch with what is essential, radicaleven dangerousabout our faith and replaced it with what is comfortable.

In the days that followed, I began looking further at my own life, at the church God has entrusted to me to pastor, and at the church culture around me. As I did, I was overwhelmed by the differences between our version of Christianity and the version of Christianity that prevails among our brothers and sisters around the world.

Instead of weeping together on our faces before God, we calmly sit on plush chairs in beautiful buildings.

Instead of going against the grain in our culture, we settle into our culture with lifestyles that are virtually indistinguishable from the world around us.

Instead of a simple, costly, humble, authentic, passionate, risky pursuit of Christ, we prioritize clean, elaborate, entertaining, slick, innovative church programs and performances that cater to our personal tastes.

And in light of these differences, I am convinced we need to answer a fundamentally important question. What is Jesus worth to us?

Do we believe that Jesus is worthy of sacrifice in our lives? Our immediate thought would probably be, Yes. Sure. Of course.

But listen to how we describe what it means to follow him.

Ask Jesus to come into your heart.

Invite Jesus to come into your life.

Pray this prayer, sign this card, or walk down this aisle, and accept Jesus as your personal Savior.

You will not find one of these casual, contemporary catch phrases in Scripture. Instead, in Jesus mouth you will find words that are foreign to us today. You will find phrases that show us he is worthy of far more than a polite invitation. He is worthy of supreme devotion. Let me give you a few examples.