Have We Made Following Jesus Too Comfortable?

I have a question I’ve been a little hesitant to ask.

Have we made following Jesus too comfortable?

I don’t mean, have we made church too comfortable? Comfortable seats and good coffee aren’t the problem.

I mean, have we quietly reshaped discipleship into something Jesus Himself might barely recognize?

Because when I listen to the way we often talk about following Jesus today, I hear a lot about purpose. Peace. Identity. Joy. Freedom. The abundant life.

And all of that is true.

Jesus gives us a life we could never manufacture on our own.

But when I read the Gospels, I notice something else.

Jesus talked a lot about dying.

Deny yourself.
Take up your cross.
Lose your life to find it.
Leave everything and follow Me.
Love your enemies.
Forgive the people who hurt you.
Count the cost.

Jesus never hid the cost of following Him.

And sometimes I wonder if we do.

We’re comfortable telling people what Jesus can add to their lives. We’re less comfortable talking about what following Him might require them to lay down.

But Jesus never seemed worried that the truth would scare people away.

When the rich young ruler came to Him, Jesus didn’t lower the bar because He wanted another follower. He lovingly put His finger on the very thing the man could not imagine surrendering.

And the man walked away.

Jesus let him.

That part has always struck me.

When large crowds gathered around Jesus, He didn’t soften the message to keep attendance up. He told them to count the cost.

When Peter resisted the path of suffering, Jesus corrected him.

When would-be disciples offered reasons to delay following Him, Jesus didn’t negotiate the terms.

Again and again, Jesus refused to separate grace from discipleship.

His grace was free.

Following Him would cost everything.

Maybe we struggle with that because we assume that making Christianity easier will make it more appealing.

Jesus didn’t seem to think so.

He welcomed sinners. He ate with tax collectors. He touched lepers. He forgave the guilty. He showed compassion to the broken and mercy to people everyone else had written off.

But He never pretended that following Him would leave their lives unchanged.

Because Jesus wasn’t looking for admirers.

He was making disciples.

And disciples follow.

I wonder if this is part of the reason some Christians eventually become disappointed with Jesus.

Maybe we came to Him expecting Him to make the life we had already planned work better.

Help me succeed.

Give me peace.

Fix this relationship.

Show me my purpose.

Bless what I’m building.

And then somewhere along the way, we discover that Jesus isn’t interested in simply fitting into the life we’ve planned.

He wants to reshape the whole thing.

Our priorities.

Our relationships.

Our money.

Our sexuality.

Our ambitions.

Our time.

Our future.

Our definition of success.

Everything.

The invitation of Jesus has always been wonderfully simple:

“Follow Me.”

But simple has never meant easy.

Following Jesus will cost us our pride. It may cost us approval. It will challenge our ambitions, expose our idols, interrupt our plans, and ask us to trust Him when obedience makes very little sense.

And yet, here is the paradox at the heart of Christianity:

Whatever we lose in surrender to Jesus pales in comparison to what we gain in Him.

Jesus said, “Whoever loses his life for my sake will find it” (Matthew 10:39).

That’s not a threat.

It’s a promise.

The surrendered life isn’t a lesser life.

It’s the life we were made for.

Which is why I’m increasingly convinced that the most important question facing the church right now isn’t whether more people are becoming interested in Jesus.

I’m grateful when they are.

But interest isn’t discipleship.

The deeper question is whether we are inviting people into the same kind of life Jesus invited His first disciples into.

Not simply, Come to Jesus and He will make your life better.

But:

Come to Jesus and give Him your life.

All of it.

Because Jesus isn’t asking for a comfortable Christianity.

He’s asking for our whole lives.

And He is worth every bit of them.

What is one thing you’re holding onto that Jesus may be asking you to surrender?

P.S. If this article encouraged and challenged you, I think you'll enjoy my new book, All Your Life (releasing Aug 4). It's a practical, biblical guide to following Jesus through life's biggest questions—from purpose and calling to relationships, money, church, and everyday faith. I'd love for you to check it out.

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