Jesus turns our required slavery into friendship

“You are my friends if you do what I command you.”

Jesus “commands” us as our Lord. We give up our independence by submitting to him as Lord. We cross over from doing our own thing, from living according to our own will when we accept Jesus as Lord. His command as Lord, already projected to us before we accept him, is to love one another as he has loved us. This projected offer is where Jesus puts the whole distasteful slavery thing into context.

“I no longer call you slaves, because a slave does not know what his master is doing.”

This kind of Lord does not live by our rules as a commander in chief. As a slave we are constantly in the dark about what the Grand Poobah, the El Capitan, is doing. We are also not privy to God’s purpose when we come to him as a slave. Many times we have all said, what the heck is God doing with my life? I give him my fealty, my heart, and all this crap and nonsense happens to me? Well, apparently, our unknowing state as a slave and servant just means that we’ve not made the shift from slave to friend.

Slaves to God, no more


http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/051418.cfm
Acts 1:15-17, 20-26
John 15:9-17


Obscured, a bit — especially to fiercely independent and strong-willed American readers — hides the phrase from Jesus in John’s gospel that he “no longer” calls his disciples slaves. Some translations say, “servants.” Either way — whether Jesus meant that we are a slave, someone bought and paid for and now among his minions, or that we are a servant who does the Lord’s bidding with our wills bent to his expectations — the connotation of being lorded over by another is distasteful. 

Well, it’s downright disgusting. Who among us would sit still for that What person of the 21st Century even has servants, much less slaves? Is anybody worthy of that privilege. Really? Does such a concept — a lord with power over our lives — fit with our vision of God? Lordy, Lordy, God almighty. Is that what God does?

I’m afraid so. Not really afraid, actually. Not afraid to tell you, that is. Jesus is the actual Lord of all. El Capitan and Grand Poobah don’t say it clearly enough. Jesus is Lord.

Oh dear. What do I do with this? Rather than punt, I’m going to run with it. 

Slavery to God is everything both terrible and terrific at the same time. There is a Lord, and that Lord loves us. He commands us as our Lord, and his command is to love. “This is my commandment: love one another as I love you.” While the commandment is pretty cool, we still have that whole Lord thing going on.

Jesus as our lord is not just the elephant in the room kind of discussion, it is the dag-nabbed throne room reality of who (or should I say “whom”) we’re dealing with here. We’re talking about God. G. O. D. freaking God. This isn’t a duly elected governor, or a self-made billionaire, or the son of the King. No, I take that back. Jesus is the son of a king. He’s actually the king, too. This is not a good analogy. I mean to say that he’s nothing like we think of as a governor, a billionaire, or a king. He’s the top dude who made all the dudes and dudettes (or to be more PC, dedellas), including his own dudeness. Only God can be the guy who commands us; and, whether we like it or not, God is Lord.

While he says we should love, we must first deal with the painful notion that Jesus refers to us as his slaves and servants. He may "no longer" call some his slaves, but therein blares the fact that slavery is where we start. We must accept this reality before we can move on to properly understanding the rest of what he says. 

Most clearly, Jesus and God are the same. Only God has the right to properly be our Lord. Jesus says he's that guy. This slavery and servant talk is not singularly here in John. Many times in scripture the followers of Christ are called slaves/servants of God. Most specifically in 1 Corinthians 7:22, Romans 6:22, and Ephesians 6:6:

Corinthians: For he who was called in the Lord while a slave, is the Lord's freedman; likewise he who was called while free, is Christ's slave.

Romans: But now that you have been set free from sin and have become slaves to God, the fruit you reap leads to holiness, and the outcome is eternal life.

Ephesians: And do this not only to please them while they are watching, but as servants of Christ, doing the will of God from your heart.

In all three of these verses, slavery/servant to God projects his unique lordship, which I believe is something only worthy of God. In Corinthians, God as Lord is explained as a juxtaposition. God frees us from slavery to others, and we give up our freedom to be willing slaves to God’s will. In Romans, upon exchanging our slavery to sin for slavery to God’s will, we become holy and live a life eternal. The trade-off begins to make more sense. And, thirdly in Ephesians, we don’t make this exchange of our will for God just for our own edification, but because our hearts have become one with God. 

Accepting God as our Lord, while sounding like losing our independence is actually the only rational thing to do. We are freed from sin. We will live with God forever. Our hearts will be joined to God.

God’s lordship fits the proper description of the lord who both knows what he’s doing, and deserves to be doing it. This is a mind-blowing premise to grab hold of. First, creation has a creator, a Lord of land and space, time and order, and all inhabitants of the universe. Second, that creator is readily available for conversation and engagement. Thirdly, we are given an option that is completely up to us. We align with God’s will and be a fully immortal human (the original design of the creator), or we live on our own terms and die with unclear consequences.

The second option is allowed to us. It, however, does have a clearly outlined consequence for those who accept Jesus' lordship. Jesus points out the result of denying him. We refuse God’s Lordship and spend eternity in a dismal void. Void is a good word. It is a place devoid of God, where we officially and permanently avoid God at all human cost. Actually, the ultimate human cost, abandonment by our own will.

So, back to Jesus no longer calling us slaves. I think that we can rationally conclude God rightly is the only acceptable and duly assigned Lord who can call us his servants. All others who do so are limited by everything that matters — time, resources, authorship, and divinity. Jesus has positioned himself as that very Lord. Accepting that Jesus fits the bill cannot be done without considerable pondering and only with convicting evidence. Witness and real life evidence, both active and personal, must be in play.

What does Jesus do with his commanding role as Lord? He shifts us from servant, from slave, to friend. This enticing offer in his lordship bests anything we'll run into from any other power or spirit.

“You are my friends if you do what I command you.”

Jesus “commands” us as our Lord. We give up our independence by submitting to him as Lord. We cross over from doing our own thing, from living according to our own will when we accept Jesus as Lord. His command as Lord, already projected to us before we accept him, is to love one another as he has loved us. This projected offer is where Jesus puts the whole distasteful slavery thing into context.

“I no longer call you slaves, because a slave does not know what his master is doing.”

This kind of Lord does not live by our rules as a commander in chief. As a slave we are constantly in the dark about what the Grand Poobah, the El Capitan, is doing. We are also not privy to God’s purpose when we come to him as a slave. Many times we have all said, what the heck is God doing with my life? I give him my fealty, my heart, and all this crap and nonsense happens to me? Well, apparently, our unknowing state as a slave and servant just means that we’ve not made the shift from slave to friend. According to Jesus, that shift depends upon our love for others.

That’s how I read it. We may have heard that Jesus calls us friend, but have we made the transition in making him our Lord that we actually know what he's doing? Again, Jesus tells us that by loving one another as he loves us we have accepted him as our Lord, and then our relationship to him changes. We become his friends.

The part holding us back from that friendship is probably Jesus’ definition of friendship. “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” He’s not just describing what he has done for us. He’s describing what we are supposed to do for each other. Our independent streak, our focus upon saving our lives from the perils of this world, and our insistence to both get and hold onto the things of our desires necessarily overwhelms the notion of loving others. We have to set aside ourselves for others. 

If we accept that commandment, we move into a whole new space. “I have called you friends, because I have told you everything I have heard from my Father.” We become friends of God in the act of paying attention to what Jesus tells us. As our friendship with God grows, we bit by bit know what God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit are up to. God reveals to us what he is doing.

And unlike how we pick any of our friends, Jesus explains how this whole dynamic works in becoming his slave/servant. While we carefully vet our friends, Jesus says that by doing what he commands draws us to him so that he can call us his friend. 

“It was not you who chose me, but I who chose you.” 

In his choosing, he follows his own commandment. He loves us. That love turned into friendship means that we now have an appointment. 

“Go and bear fruit that will remain, so that whatever you ask the Father in my name he may give you.” 

How much closer to a friend can anyone be than to be loved by God, appointed to go and bear lasting, permanent fruit, and then be able to make requests to God in that friendship that will be honored? What Lord adds our requests made in his name to our assignment as servant? None. Those who say they do are lying. Only God can do this.

This is the kind of slavery I can accept, willingly. This is the kind of servant I would like to be. His friends are the people I want to call my friends. This is the kind of friend I have been built to be. Only God can be that kind of Lord. We have a friend in Jesus.

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