The convenient Jesus welcomes you as you are, and leaves you there.
He accepts your brokenness but never makes you whole.
He lets you sip from the cup of diluted truth,
making it easier to swallow,
calling it nourishment
though it leaves you empty.
He justifies your silence when someone needed your voice.
He’s proud of your ‘peacekeeping,’
even when it costs someone their protection
and applauds your stifled convictions in the name of unity
when really, it is self-preservation.
He knows your past,
so doesn’t expect much growth.
He says your old wounds excuse your selfishness
and justify your actions.
He calls it ‘self-care,’
never letting you know it is self-indulgence,
as you decorate your entitlement
in the name of empowerment and healing.
He affirms your every boundary,
even the ones that keep you
from honoring those who gave you life.
He’s labeled your comfort as ‘calling’
and your neglect at home as ‘ministry.’
He cheers when you chase your ambitions,
even at the cost of your obedience.
He calls your pageantry ‘confidence’ and ‘evangelism’
when you serve it with a side of motivational Bible verses,
because vanity always wears a halo
when you add Scripture.
He fills your ears with constant noise
from empty songs and hollow teaching,
soothing to the senses,
yet void of substance
and free from the cost of change.
He calls your admiration of compromising voices
a sign of tolerance,
leaving you captivated by polished exteriors and popularity,
numbed to integrity,
and content with your own shallow discernment.
He’s like everyone else,
loving your highlights
and admiring your veneer,
but never questioning what lies beneath.
He looks like you,
thinks like you,
wants what you want.
He fits in your image,
your schedule,
your plans.
But he never carried your shame.
He never wept with you in the garden of surrender.
He never walked beside you through the valley.
He never bore your cross or broke your chains.
He never called you to die, and then raised you to abundant life.
He never pierced your pride to heal your soul.
He never loved you back to the truth that sets you free.
He is everything, except holy.
He is anything, except the real Jesus.
You made him up.
