Everything in my great grandfather’s house is old and antique. Even a simple red sharpie I picked up feels like it has been around longer than I have. It still proudly bears the name “Sanford’s Sharpie” instead of just “Sharpie.”

The walls of the house are adorned with original artistic interpretations, mostly depicting landscapes and acrylic paintings. Some pastel portraits of female actors are dotted around the walls. These artworks have been there for as long as I can remember.

The bathroom has remained unchanged since the house was built in the 1950s, with its dusty pink tub, toilet and sink. Time has passed, but nothing has changed.

This is no coincidence; my great grandfather “Grumpa” was a creature of habit. He would start his mornings with coffee and the newspaper, wash his clothes and sheets every Saturday, and grumble about God on Sunday mornings while others went to church.

I, too, have my own routines. Each school day, I wake up around 6:30 a.m., go downstairs, and find my mother waiting with a toasted English muffin slathered in butter and a glass of milk. After that, I lumber back upstairs to get ready for the day.

After church on Sundays, my routine includes a trip to the Lincoln General Store, where I always get the same three items: a ham and cheese sandwich with mayonnaise, a Barq’s root beer or ginger ale, and a bag of chips.

Consistency is a precious thing that many of us take for granted. We are fortunate to wake up in the same place, on the same side of the bed each morning. That familiarity is consistency.

That hot cup of coffee, even though I rarely drink it myself, represents consistency for the majority of people. They know how to make it just right for them.

Now, imagine being a disciple of Christ. Being called away from your entire life to follow this new Messiah, one who is unconventional, controversial and dines with sinners. What blasphemy!

Imagine giving up your morning routines like coffee and the newspaper, whatever family and sense of career you’ve had, all for this person who claims himself to be the next Messiah. You wouldn’t know where you’re going, how you’ll end up or what the next day holds.

The disciples had to let go of everything and simply respond to a vague, cold command: “Follow me.”

I believe a life in God requires us to relinquish the consistency we are accustomed to. We need to embrace change and be open to new experiences.

We must be willing to be disciples of Christ, giving up our luxuries and following a Messiah who challenges our comfort. We, too, are called to respond to the very same vague, cold command that the disciples did: “Follow me.”

Jesus doesn’t want us to be comfortable because comfort makes us complacent. It prevents us from asking important questions and challenging the status quo.

When we are comfortable, we are less likely to uproot oppressive systems that don’t directly affect us. Challenging the status quo requires effort, and it can be an uncomfortable effort.

Jesus, as the Messiah, chose to step out of his comfort zone. He shared meals with tax collectors and sinners – Matthew, himself, was a tax collector! – associated with Samaritans despite social expectations (John 4) and did countless other things that most other “traditional” messiahs wouldn’t dare to do.

This, of course, led to his crucifixion. He challenged the status quo and that is where it got him.

He didn’t settle for the luxuries of his title or seek to be crowned king after performing a few miracles. So, why don’t we all learn from Jesus and step out of our comfort zones? 

Let’s get uncomfortable, challenge the status quo, and lead lives that emulate his sacrificial journey, leading to our own crucifixion, metaphorically speaking.

In the words of John Lewis, let’s “get in good trouble. Necessary trouble.”

Editor’s note: This article is part of an