Lukewarm sounds disgusting. Soup that’s not quite eatable, tepid bath water or attitudes that are barely tolerable. No wonder Jesus said that when I’m lukewarm He wants to spit me out of his mouth.
Yet. . . I’m drawn to this state of being. At my stage of life I’m always yanking off or putting on my sweater. I’m too hot. No, I’m too cold. I struggle between these extremes always seeking the place of comfort.
When I’m lukewarm I’m comfortable. I like it here. Not too much challenge, or action, life is like an anchored boat bobbing safely near the dock. I gravitate toward a safe harbor. But this is the exact place that Jesus warned me about. He hates it. And that worries me. It causes a ripple of concern to pass through my heart and upsets my status quo. He wants me to hate being lukewarm as much as He does.
Now, I’m not advocating activity for it’s own sake or doing good works to be noticed by others. I don’t want to be franticly pursuing recognition or trying to prove to myself that my life holds value.
But isn’t there also a danger in being lulled to sleep when I should be awake? Shouldn’t being too comfortable make me a bit uncomfortable? Might it be a warning sign that I’ve grown complacent about what matters in life, like other people and God? Isn’t it being tempted to do just enough—which really isn’t enough?
It’s a struggle because my personality is fairly easy-going and terms like running the race and fighting the good fight don’t hold much appeal, at least not in my flesh, in the unregenerate part of myself. She likes the easy way, the lazy life, when there are not too many demands and even less expectations.
But Jesus said He’d rather I be hot. He’d rather I be cold. He’d rather I be uncomfortable? Why? Maybe because when I am hot, it means that I’m aware that something isn’t good. I’m yanking off my sweater, taking steps to cool down, making an effort. I feel the atmosphere around me and don’t like it so I respond, react—and change in response. And when I’m cold, I don’t like it. I don’t simply accept it as an inevitable situation I have to live with and accept, no, the feeling of discomfort actually urges me to do something. I work to change and actively try to get warm.
“Lord, Jesus, only You know the condition of my heart. I’m afraid that I might be too comfortable. I don’t want to be lukewarm. Thank you that you rebuke and discipline those you love. Thank you for loving me. Please show me how to be earnest and repent so that I will live to please you all of my days. Amen.”
Posted on November 02, 2013 in