Lessons at a bachelorette party

God doesn't call us to go where we're comfortable, but to walk where He walked.

The night was charged with a raucous, frenetic energy. We were there to congratulate my cousin on her upcoming nuptials, and we did so heartily. Many glasses were raised in her honor; most of us danced through the night. But I found myself unable to relax and fully join in.

Did I dislike these women? Of course not. My mom was there, and so was my aunt. One was my cousin, and one a cousin-to-be. Each of the women I knew personally was a terrific mom whom I thought highly of as a human being. Some were Christ followers, but most weren't.

Was it the loud, sex-charged music that made me uncomfortable? The war whoops of the passengers that emanated every time we raised our glasses? Was it the questionably shaped party straws? The copious amounts of alcohol? Or was it that our inhibitions lowered as our blood alcohol content rose? It was these things and more.

It that as the night progressed further, I was afraid that I would join in. I was afraid that as the alcohol became plentiful and behavior raunchier that I would become just the same. I was afraid of losing myself. I was afraid of my old, unregenerate self re-emerging. I didn't want to see what old me would do to a town on a Saturday night - or what damage she would do in my life. And I didn't want to face the consequences on Sunday. I wanted people to listen to me when I talk about Christ, and I know people didn't listen to my old self, even when she tried.

I think that it's easier in my own life to set up restrictions for myself than it is to follow the promptings of the Spirit; I am terrible at following my conscience, but I'm good at following self-made instructions. I feel protected that way.

But when we as Christians set up restrictions for ourselves, we doom ourselves to failure. And we create a rule-bound system that ultimately turns people off and ticks off Jesus. After all, Jesus had more of an issue with the Pharisees than with the lost of the world. He hung out with people who needed Him, even if the religious right of His day deemed His methods unacceptable. This was the Jesus who celebrated the return of His own, who partied with prostitutes and dined with tax collectors. The scum of the earth.

In my life, I need to do more of the same. Jesus didn't tell me make self-righteous judgements (Matthew 7:1-3), set up a rule-bound system or encourage it in the lives of others (Galatians 3:1-6); he told me to love God, and to love people (Mark 12:29-30; Romans 13:8-9).

My cousin-to-be will have her own bachelorette party soon, and I must decide what to do. But the question must not be "How am I most comfortable?" but "How can I show love to my cousin-to-be?"

Sometimes the way to follow Jesus is not what we'd expect, or where we'd expect Him to take us. God doesn't always call us to follow Him at church picnics or worship seminars; God is calling us to follow Him where He walked. God doesn't always call us to comfortable places, or places that our highly legalized church society finds acceptable. But we must remember that we serve a God who broke the mold - who partied with prositutes, ate dinner with the IRS, who touched the diseased and "unclean" and worked when the legalized society of 1st century Palestine demanded He rest.

We're called to do the same: to be able to walk into a bar if that's what love demands of us on a Saturday - and not worry about what others will think of us on a Sunday. To embrace those our church often chooses to reject. To go to the bachelorette party of someone who doesn't know God, to show her love, and really celebrate.

The key to living like Jesus lived is to have Jesus live in me, and to submit to what Christ is doing in my life.