You Can Call Yourself a Chevrolet. . .

One of my favorite movies when I was a young teenager was a Jason Robards film entitled “A Thousand Clowns.” Robards played an unemployed  nonconformist children’s television writer named Murray. Murray lived in an upstairs flat in New York City with his 12 year old nephew named Nick. Nick had been left with Murray at age six by his unwed mother who went downstairs for a pack of cigarettes one day and didn’t come back for six years. Murray knew nothing about raising children, but thought that completely unstructured freedom for a six year old was a basic requirement, so Nick was free to make all of his own life decisions—what to do, what to wear, what to eat. Murray even gave Nick six years to decide on a permanent name. Among the dozen or so names he used was the name “Chevrolet,” a comical misnomer for young boy. But he liked it, and called himself a Chevrolet until he was twelve. It was good that the boy had a name he liked. He apparently felt like he shared a certain affinity with a Chevrolet. The moral of this story is, he could claim to be a Chevrolet all he wanted, he would never be a car.

Are the Teachings of Jesus Optional for Christians?

I am increasingly offended—not politically offended, but Christianly offended—by the suggestion that a person can claim allegiance to Jesus Christ while treating the teachings of Jesus as optional whenever they become inconvenient.

To be a Christian does not require a person to merely state that they are one; neither does it mean a person simply believes certain things about Jesus. The Christian faith requires its adherents at some level to follow Jesus. I am not saying we find salvation through our own merits—we are saved by Grace, not by works. But I am saying that to be a Christian requires that a person must “walk as Jesus walked.” (1 John 2:6)

But Jesus did not call people into His Kingdom simply to admire Him, sing about Him, defend Him, or attach His name to their causes. He said, “Follow me.” And at the conclusion of Matthew’s Gospel, the Great Commission does not end with making converts. Jesus commands His followers to make disciples and teach them to obey everything He commanded (Matthew 28:18–20).

Everything. That makes an enormous difference.

Jesus said the greatest commandments are to love God completely and to love our neighbor as ourselves (Matthew 22:37–40). He commanded us to love even our enemies and pray for those who persecute us (Matthew 5:43–48). He identified His mission with good news for the poor, freedom for captives and liberation for the oppressed (Luke 4:18–19). For Jesus it was not just lip service . He pursued His mission every hour of every day. And, He passes that same mission on to every one of His followers.

This means those are not suggestions for unusually committed Christians. They are the universal teachings of our Lord.

And Jesus was remarkably specific about the people His followers must not overlook.

The hungry matter. The thirsty matter. The stranger-immigrant matters. The poorly clothed matter. The sick matter. The prisoner matters (Matthew 25:31–46). Children matter so much that Jesus rebuked His own disciples for trying to keep them away from Him (Mark 10:13–16). The despised outsider becomes the hero of His parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25–37). Widows receive His attention (Mark 12:41–44; Luke 7:11–17). Those whom respectable society preferred to avoid repeatedly found themselves welcomed at His table.

This concern did not originate with the New Testament. Israel’s Scriptures repeatedly command justice for the widow, orphan, poor person and foreigner (Deuteronomy 10:17–19; 24:17–22; Isaiah 1:16–17; Micah 6:8; Zechariah 7:9–10). Jesus stands squarely in that prophetic tradition.

And yet we are sometimes presented with a strangely revised pseudo-Christianity in which these teachings may be set aside when political, economic, racial, national or personal interests demand it.

No.

Jesus does not become less Lord when His commandments become inconvenient.

  • The Christian cannot say, “Love your neighbor”—except when that neighbor belongs to the “other” race.
  • We cannot say, “Love your enemies”—except when hatred is politically useful.
  • We cannot say, “Welcome the stranger”—except when compassion carries a cost.
  • We cannot say, “Blessed are the peacemakers”—while casually glorifying violence.
  • We cannot condemn sexual immorality while excusing greed, arrogance, hatred, jealousy, division and selfish ambition, which Paul places among the works of the flesh (Galatians 5:19–21).
  • Neither can we condone ungodly behavior or idolatrous beliefs because “it is popular” or because “the other guys do it.”
  • We cannot demand honesty from our opponents while tolerating dishonesty from our allies or even ourselves.
  • And we cannot preach righteousness while treating corruption as acceptable whenever corruption appears to advance something we want.

None of this requires one particular political program. Christians can disagree in good faith about taxation, immigration law, criminal justice, national defense, health care, welfare programs and countless questions of public policy. Scripture gives us moral principles; it does not hand us a modern party platform.

  • But disagreement over how to pursue justice does not erase the command to pursue justice.
  • Disagreement over how to care for the poor does not repeal our obligation to care for the poor.
  • Disagreement about immigration policy does not give Christians permission to despise foreigners.
  • And disagreement about national security does not cancel Jesus’ command to love our enemies.

The church should therefore be extraordinarily suspicious whenever Christianity becomes merely the religious department of a political movement—any political movement.

Jesus said, “Seek the Kingdom of God above all else” (Matthew 6:33). Caesar does not receive that position. Neither does nation, race, party, ideology, economic system, political leader or cultural tribe.

The Kingdom comes first.

That means Christianity must sometimes make conservatives uncomfortable. It must sometimes make progressives uncomfortable. It must confront nationalism, materialism, racism, militarism, exploitation and political idolatry wherever they appear. It must also confront self-righteousness, sexual immorality, dishonesty, vengeance, hatred and contempt wherever they appear.

The church does not possess the authority to rewrite the Sermon on the Mount to make Jesus more compatible with the spirit of the age. Neither can it rightfully claim that some or all of Jesus’ commands can be dismissed because they were delivered to Jews living under the tenets of the Old Covenant. Jesus is eternal and unchanging- the same yesterday, today and forever.  

Indeed, Jesus explicitly rejected the world’s model of power. He observed that the world’s rulers dominate people and officials flaunt their authority, then told His disciples: “But among you it will be different.” Christian greatness, He said, looks like servanthood because the Son of Man Himself came to serve rather than to be served (Mark 10:42–45).

That sentence ought to haunt every Christian fascination with power:

“But among you it will be different.”

We should also be careful about creating a god who conveniently approves everything our tribe already wants. Such a god requires no repentance because he never contradicts us. He blesses our ambitions, excuses our methods, hates our enemies, overlooks our sins and baptizes our pursuit of power.

But that god bears a suspicious resemblance to ourselves.

  • Jesus does not.
  • Jesus confronts us.

He tells the wealthy ruler to surrender his possessions. He tells the adulterous to abandon sin. He tells the religious hypocrite to repent. He tells the powerful to become servants. He tells the self-righteous to examine themselves. He tells the wounded to forgive. He tells the persecuted to pray for their persecutors. He tells His followers not merely to tolerate enemies but to love them.

And finally He takes up a cross. That is the pattern of Christian discipleship.

People are free to reject that pattern. Christianity has no business coercing faith; coerced discipleship is a contradiction in terms. People may choose another philosophy, another ethic, another allegiance or no religion whatsoever.

But to claim the name Christian means to claim something very specific.

“. . .the one who says he abides in Him ought himself to walk in the same manner as He walked[1]” (1 John 2:6 NASB).

John states the principle with devastating simplicity: “. . .the one who says he abides in Him ought himself to walk in the same manner as He walked[1]” (1 John 2:6 NASB).
Therefore, the issue is not whether Christians must all vote alike or reach identical conclusions about public policy. They need not.

The issue is much deeper:

Who gets to define Christianity—Jesus Christ or us?

If Jesus is Lord, then His commands concerning love, truth, mercy, justice, humility, peacemaking, generosity, faithfulness, the stranger, the poor, the powerless and even the enemy cannot be dismissed when they collide with our politics.

  • Our politics must answer to Christ.
  • Our economics must answer to Christ.
  • Our nationalism must answer to Christ.
  • Our treatment of enemies must answer to Christ.
  • Our use of power must answer to Christ.
  • Everything must answer to Christ.

Because Christianity without the way of Christ is not merely Christianity with a different political emphasis. It has ceased to take seriously the meaning of the Name it claims to bear.

You can claim to be a Christian all you want, it doesn’t necessarily make you a Citizen of God’s Kingdom. Just like claiming the name of Chevrolet doesn’t make you a car.

John Timothy Ahlen

September 26, 2026.