Matt Calderon – A BloG

Transformative discipleship has to look like the transfiguration of self into Christ. In this second reading, I find this call to action, that following Jesus requires this transformation. As a programmer at work when I develop a piece of software or create an app I have to ask a lot of questions. There is no such thing as osmosis of thought. I have to critically find the requirements to develop from beginning to end an input that comes to an output. There is a calculated cost.

’28For which of you, intending to build a tower, does not sit down first and count the cost, whether he has enough to finish it— 29lest, after he has laid the foundation, and is not able to finish, all who see it begin to mock him, 30saying, ‘This man began to build and was not able to finish’? 31Or what king, going to make war against another king, does not sit down first and consider whether he is able with ten thousand to meet him who comes against him with twenty thousand? 32Or else, while the other is still a great way off, he sends a delegation and asks conditions of peace. 33So likewise, whoever of you does not forsake all that he has cannot be My disciple.’ (Luke 14:28-33, NKJV)

There is a price to pay to follow Jesus. He tells his disciples to pickup their cross and follow Him.

’24Then Jesus said to His disciples, “If anyone desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me. 25For whoever desires to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for My sake will find it. ‘ (Matthew 16:24-25, NKJV)

That means to me that in exchange for my ‘self’ enjoyment, I get to follow in Jesus’ footsteps. I get to walk this path of Christ. That means more than a feeling. There is an action that is required. It requires a prioritization of resources to promote growth. John Mark Comer says it clearly below.

Most of us have more than enough time to work with, even in busy seasons of life. We just have to reallocate our time to “seek first the kingdom of God,”7 not the kingdom of entertainment. And on the rare occasion (and it is very rare) that somebody genuinely does not have time for the practices we’ll get into in part 3 of this book, I gently suggest that they are simply too busy, then, to follow Jesus. (J. Comer, A Ruthless Elimination of Hurry, 2019)

The question then becomes what will I do? What do I desire to do? Do i actually fear death? Do I say I am a follower of Christ without actually practicing? These are not complex questions. These are actually really simple questions. I sat at a lunch today with a friend only to stop halfway through and have a healthy conversation about our relationship with one another. The truth of the matter is that somewhere we missed the mark with one another and fell out of communion with one another. I didn’t shy away. I apologized for my approach and misunderstanding and said I desired to continue. In the end we both made up and felt relief that we were vulnerable and honest with one another.

Isn’t that what God is really asking of us? He’s looking for relationship! I think Comer puts it best:

Is our relationship with Jesus any different? We get out what we put in. This isn’t some legalistic guilt trip. This is an invitation. To the life we actually ache for. A life that can be found only by moving through the world shoulder to shoulder with Jesus. (J. Comer, A Ruthless Elimination of Hurry, 2019)

Practically, what I want to embrace on a weekly basis, is to sit at a coffee shop, and meet with Jesus, just like I met with my friend. I want to be able to sit just as I did and share what my week looked like along with all my ups along with my downs. I want to take part in this communion of faith, and somewhere in between just like my friend asked me where I was at, I too also want to talk to God in the same way. I think this is going to require some deconstruction of walls that I have up. To become like a child again, or like a fresh new lover, who approaches the table wholeheartedly, like Mary who was able to sit at the feet of Jesus, who chose the finer things. When I think about this I refer back to this book called Sacred Attachment by Cusick. In the first few pages he describes this convent that had nuns who were restricted and confined to a solitary life. He traveled there as a kid with his family, and one day he found himself behind the bars on the inside of the convent. Rather than being met with an ambush of punishment, he was met with an ambush of love:

It would take me many years to realize that my fear and anxiety about being on the wrong side and scrutinized by the religious authorities was a template for my understanding of God. If I crossed the line, God was like that displeased religious figure. If I broke the rules, God would surely break me. But all of that fear washed away when I became aware of the joy and sense of welcome that surrounded me there. If we ambushed each other, it was an ambush of love. Sister Anne held me and ran her fingers through my hair and kissed my cheeks. This wasn’t some grandmotherly cheek pinching in that patronizing kind of way. She simply took delight in who I was.(M. Cusick, Sacred Attachment: Escaping Spiritual Exhaustion and Trusting in Divine Love, 2025)

What I now realize through this discourse is that I long like Comer says for this ambush of love. This lifestyle that desires rest over this performative life of haste. What death of self becomes, is not just a doorway to life, but a doorway to unconditional love. A love that has no bounds and is limitless. A pure love that can only be given by a close proximity to God.