I Choose Today to Go Where Jesus Would Go: The Remnant Series

We often talk about living like Jesus—but are we willing to go where He went?
Jesus didn’t confine Himself to temple walls or religious circles. He walked through Samaritan towns. He entered the homes of tax collectors. He let a broken woman anoint His feet while others scoffed. He touched the leper. He defended the adulterous woman. He dined with the very people religious leaders warned against.

Not once did He compromise truth.

But not once did He withhold compassion either.

That’s the tension I’m wrestling with. Because in many church circles today, I see a hesitancy—not to speak truth—but to step into messy places where truth is most needed. There’s a fear that associating with sinners equals agreeing with sin. And so, instead of going out, we pull in. We stay safe. We protect our reputation. We polish our theology and post our sermons—but we forget the simple, radical call Jesus gave: Go.

“Go into all the world and preach the gospel to all creation.” — Mark 16:15

But how do we “go” if we refuse to be present in the places where brokenness lives?

Jesus didn’t call us to avoid the world—He called us to love it. To be in it, not of it. To show a better way—not by distancing ourselves from sinners, but by drawing near with the same mercy He showed us.

This matters deeply to me because I remember what it felt like to be misunderstood by a church community. I remember the sting of judgment, the silence of rejection, the way it pushed me further into hiding rather than closer to healing. What I needed in that season wasn’t a sermon—it was someone willing to sit beside me in the mess and remind me I was still seen, still wanted, still loved by God.

That’s the kind of Jesus I met.
And that’s the kind of follower I want to be.

“It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners.” — Mark 2:17

If we want to live like Jesus, we can’t stay in sanitized spaces. We have to go where the hurting are. We have to risk being misunderstood. We have to choose compassion over comfort and obedience over optics.
Because the gospel was never meant to be a stage performance. It was meant to be lived out—with people, among people, for people.
So today—I choose to go where Jesus would go.

As I’ve been reading Revelation 2:12–17, the letter to the church in Pergamum, something struck me deeply. Jesus comes to them with a warning—but also with a sword. The two-edged sword of His Word.

And He isn’t talking about separating faith from influence. He’s talking about separating His people from the influence of the world within the church. He wants His Word—not politics, not culture, not compromise—to be what governs us.

We’re called to go into the world—but never apart from Him.

Jesus brought hope to the sick, healing to the hurting, and truth to the lost. But He never did it apart from His Father. He remained tethered to God, led by the Holy Spirit, grounded in truth.

That’s where the danger lies—when we go without staying tethered. That’s when the world leaks in. Into our message. Into our motives. Into our churches.

It’s not enough to go boldly—we must go anchored.

But how did Jesus do it?

How did He walk among the broken without being swept up in the brokenness? How did He show compassion without ever compromising the truth?

It wasn’t by playing it safe or staying silent. It was by staying anchored. Anchored to His Father. Anchored in the Spirit. Anchored in love.

Jesus didn’t shy away from naming sin—but He never used truth as a weapon. He used it as a pathway to healing.

Just look at the woman caught in adultery. The religious leaders dragged her into the street to shame her. But Jesus turned their accusation inward—exposing the sin in their hearts. 

“Let the one without sin cast the first stone,” He said. 

One by one, they walked away.

And then He turned to her. He didn’t excuse her sin. He didn’t crush her under it either. He looked her in the eyes and said, “Neither do I condemn you. Go, and sin no more.”

He called her out of shame and into transformation. That’s the difference. That’s Jesus.
He went to the ones the church avoided. He loved the ones the world labeled. He walked into dark places—not to blend in, but to bring light.

And He could do that because He stayed in constant communion with the Father and moved in the power of the Holy Spirit.

And that same Spirit lives in us.

So today—I choose to go where Jesus would go.
Not because it’s easy. Not because it won’t be misunderstood. But because people are hurting in the very places we’ve been avoiding. And if Jesus isn’t afraid to meet them there, why should I be?

Maybe the first step isn’t running to the darkest corner of the world. Maybe it’s simply asking, “Holy Spirit, where are You already moving—and how can I join You?” Maybe it’s reaching out to the neighbor others avoid. Or listening without judgment. Or walking into the mess, not with a pointed finger, but with open hands and a willing heart.

Jesus didn’t wait for people to clean up before offering them hope. He entered their story—and then He offered them a better one.

Prayer:

Jesus,
Give me Your eyes to see.
Give me Your courage to go.
Give me Your love that doesn’t flinch in the face of brokenness, and Your truth that cuts through every lie.
Keep me anchored in You—so I don’t shrink back in fear or get swept up in compromise.
Help me follow You into the hard places, into the ordinary moments, into the stories that still need healing.
And may I go not to fix, but to love.
Not to preach, but to walk alongside.
Just like You did for me.
In Your precious name, Amen.