Becoming Christ-Centred, Part 1

Today at my church, our pastor encouraged and challenged us all to take the jump from being growing Christians to being Christ-centered Christians. In other words, he challenged us to quit asking God what he can do for us and to become willing to let go of everything and cling only to Christ.

Sounds scary, doesn't it?

I remember how I used to read that God's will is good and pleasing and perfect, but the whole time, there was a niggling doubt in my mind. What if it was only pleasing to him, and not to me? What if I said yes to him, and he asked me to do something that scared me?

Gradually, I quit saying yes to him. It was subtle at first, but before long, all the joy that I had experienced as a new Christian had disappeared, and I was faking it. I felt empty and out-of-sorts, but I kept going through the motions of being a "good Christian." Meanwhile, I was bogged down with guilt over my inadequacy.

So what happened to me? How come I can say all of these things in the past tense now? Well, when I think about it, there are a couple things that stand out to me.

The first change happened when a friend told me this: That, in essence, once we get to a plateau in our faith, most of us try to regain our initial spark, our first emotional high we experienced as new believers. We try to go back. But the thing to do is not to re-capture that fleeting honeymoon feeling, but to go forward into a new and deeper commitment, one based not on emotions but on obedience.

The next big change started happening when I admitted to God that I didn't trust him. Not one little bit. I was so sure he'd be mad, or hurt, that I could barely even admit it to myself, let alone him, for the longest time. But he isn't like a person who takes offense; he already knew I didn't trust him, long before I found out.

Then, once it was out in the open, I felt so relieved. I had told God I didn't trust him, and he hadn't struck me down with lightning. I didn't even feel a bit of condemnation from him. Instead, I felt his approval, his gladness that I was finally being honest. That's when I learned the meaning of the verse, "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven," from Matthew 5. I finally knew, without a doubt, that I had nothing spiritual to offer God. All my striving to become the mature Christian and do all the right things had gotten me nowhere. I couldn't produce my own fruit.

So, I asked for his help. I basically said, "Okay, I really don't trust you, but I want to. At least, I want to want to. I'm still a little scared, so you're going to have to change me. Help!"

My life didn't change right away, but my heart was different. I wasn't resisting any more. I didn't know it, but I was on my way to Christ-centeredness.