THE JESUS I KNOW

The Jesus I know does not control me, he leads, guides, protects and feeds me,

but he will always acknowledge my freedom to choose.

The Jesus I grew up with was a tough, demanding Jesus. He insisted on me wearing my best clothes when visiting his house, the place where he lived. He didn't allow me to buy sweets on a Sunday. I could go for a walk with my grand parents but I couldn't ride my bike, nor could I kick a football. My hair had to be short and my sisters' hair had to be long, and when they went to visit the Jesus of our childhood, they had to wear a hat, otherwise they would be unwelcome.

Life with this Jesus was a long series of rules and regulations; no cinema, only Christian music to be listened to, no modern clothes, girls must not wear make-up nor have long nails. There was a constant fear that I might upset him. I well remember stories of fathers forcibly snipping daughters' fingernails deemed to be Jezebel-like. Is it any wonder that I, and most of my peers, dumped him as soon as we had the freedom to do so? After all, who would want to spend a lifetime, not to mention eternity, with such an all-seeing, all-knowing, capricious killjoy?

That was the Jesus I knew.

But in later life I bumped into the real Jesus, and I fell in love with him. The big thinker! He was happy to spend time with me because he loved me . that was my first surprise. He didn't judge me or punish me for my wrongdoings, not because he compromised or watered down his impossibly high standards, but because he had given me the gift of his righteousness.

I love the story of the two Chinese brothers. One was a renegade, the other a quiet, studious Christian lad. The wild boy got into a fight and murdered his opponent. He rushed home, discarded his bloodied clothes and made his escape. His brother arrived home from a prayer meeting and discovered the clothes.

When a loud knocking at the door signalled the arrival of the police, he added two and two. He donned his brother's clothes knowing they would incriminate him, and was led peacefully to the police station. In due course he was executed and when the murderer found out about his brother's fate he returned, tearfully, to the magistrate, demanding to be put out of his agony by being allowed to follow his loving brother. But the debt had been paid. That's what the Jesus I now know did for me.

The hymn writer, Toplady knew the Jesus I know too. He wrote,

'Payment He will not twice demand,

First at my bleeding surety's hand,

And then again at mine.'

The Jesus I know is in the business of redemption, that is he paid my debts and thus allows his Father to welcome me into the family.

The Jesus I know does not point the finger and accuse, that's Satan's job.

The Jesus I know weeps with me, laughs with me, enjoys my company, revels in fellowship with me.

The Jesus I know goes before me, levelling my path and turns to me saying, 'This is the way,' but he will not force me to walk in it.

The Jesus I know does not control me, he leads, guides, protects and feeds me, but he will always acknowledge my freedom to choose. And when I get it wrong, the Jesus I know will never say, 'I told you so', rather, he stoops to wipe away the tears, bathe my self-inflicted wounds with oil and wine, and sets me on my way again.

The Jesus I know loves the military man or woman who releases the bomb from the B52, but you'll find him on the ground too, cradling in his arms the whimpering child and the bleeding Muslim. He is not willing that any should perish, he wants all to know him and to share in his love.

The Jesus I know has no favourites. He said, 'As the Father loves me, so I love you.'

The Jesus I know is sometimes disappointed with his church, hurt when they drive people away, but yet he loves the church, his bride, dressed in spotless white. John the apostle demonstrated this when he penned the letter to the church in Laodicea. They had locked his Jesus out of their church, but patiently he stood there, knocking at the door, offering friendship and pleading fellowship.

The Jesus I know had equal status with God and yet for you and for me, he lived a selfless, obedient life and died a selfless, obedient death.

The Jesus I know does not love cautiously, he loves extravagantly, and he can empower us to do the same.