The Dangerous Call

What does it mean to live a dangerous life for God? Not dangerous in the sense of recklessness or violence, but dangerous to the kingdom of darkness. Dangerous in the way that challenges comfort, questions cultural norms, and refuses to let fear dictate our obedience.
We live in a world obsessed with safety. We've built entire industries around managing risk—insurance policies, retirement plans, safety equipment, legal protections. We calculate risks, measure thresholds, and create contingency plans for every possible scenario. From the moment we step out of bed until we return at night, we navigate a world where almost everything could be considered dangerous by definition: stairs, knives, cars, even riding a bike. Yet somewhere in our pursuit of safety, we've forgotten that God never called us to a risk-free life.

The Matrix of Danger and Faith
Danger exists on a spectrum with risk. How we feel about danger depends largely on our risk tolerance—that invisible line we draw between what feels acceptable and what feels terrifying. A helmet might make one person comfortable enough to ride a bike, while another won't ride at all for fear of falling.
But here's the radical truth: when we introduce faith into this equation, everything changes.
Faith doesn't eliminate risk. It transforms it. Faith places obedience on one side of the scale and sacrifice on the other, and reveals that what we gain through obedience always outweighs what we might lose through sacrifice.
This is where the Christian life becomes truly dangerous—not to ourselves, but to the forces that would keep us frozen in fear.

The Parable of Risk and Reward
Jesus told a story about three servants entrusted with their master's wealth. Two of them took what they'd been given and risked it, investing it, putting it to work. When the master returned, both had doubled what they'd received. His response? "Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful with few things, and I will put you in charge of many things." But the third servant? Gripped by fear, he buried his talent in the ground. He was so afraid of losing what he'd been given that he refused to risk anything at all. He thought he was playing it safe.
Instead, he lost everything.
The Message translation captures the master's response with stunning clarity: "Risk your life and you get more than you ever dreamed of. Play it safe and end up holding the bag."
The most dangerous thing we can do is nothing at all. When we allow fear to paralyze us, when we bury what God has given us because we're afraid of losing it, we actually guarantee our loss. We miss the multiplication that comes through faithful obedience.

Abraham's Impossible Choice
Perhaps no story in Scripture better illustrates this principle than Abraham's journey to Mount Moriah. God asked him to do the unthinkable: sacrifice Isaac, the son of promise, the child he'd waited decades to receive. The text is spare but powerful: "Early the next morning, Abraham got up and loaded his donkey."
No record of wrestling with God. No argument or negotiation. Just immediate obedience.
As Abraham and Isaac walked together, the boy asked the obvious question: "The fire and wood are here, but where is the lamb for the burnt offering?" Abraham's response reveals the heart of faith-filled obedience: "God himself will provide the lamb for the burnt offering, my son."
Abraham understood something profound: the obedience God was calling him to was greater than anything God was asking him to sacrifice. He trusted that what he would gain through obedience would far exceed what he might lose through sacrifice.
Abraham didn't know how the story would end. He couldn't skip ahead to the ram caught in the thicket. He simply knew that God had called him to something, and that obedience to that call was more valuable than clinging to what he held most dear.

The Comfort of Discomfort
God has a habit of working in the interruptions, the unexpected detours, the moments that don't fit our plans. He chooses the shepherds—the lowliest, dirtiest people in society—to receive the announcement of His Son's birth. He uses shipwrecks to get Paul to places he never intended to go. He works in the mess.
This should challenge us. Are we comfortable in the uncomfortable? Do we embrace the interruptions, or do we resist anything that doesn't fit our carefully constructed plans?
Risk tolerance changes with maturity and practice. What once seemed terrifying becomes manageable through preparation and repetition. The key is that we must be willing to step out in the first place.

The Call to Dangerous Living
A dangerous church is not dangerous in violence but in its threat to darkness. It's a church that:

• Prays expecting miracles
• Loves without boundaries
• Preaches truth without compromise
• Demonstrates radical generosity
• Refuses to be silenced by culture, convenience, or comfort

But the church isn't just a building or an organization. The church is people. Individual believers who must each answer the call to dangerous living.
This requires honest examination. What is God asking you to start doing? What is He asking you to stop doing? Where is He calling you to step out of your comfort zone and into faith?

Living in the "But God"
Fear says, "This is too risky." Faith says, "But God."
Fear says, "I might lose everything." Faith says, "But God provides."
Fear says, "I'm not qualified." Faith says, "But God equips."
The overlay of obedience and faith changes the entire equation of risk and sacrifice. When we govern risk through the lens of faith rather than fear, we position ourselves to experience the fullness of what God has for us.
We are not called to live a life of fear. We are called to live a life of faith. And faith, by its very nature, is dangerous to the status quo, to our comfort zones, and to the kingdom of darkness.

The question isn't whether following God involves risk. The question is whether we trust Him enough to step out anyway, believing that what we gain through obedience will always exceed what we sacrifice in the process.
That's the dangerous life. That's the life of faith. And that's the life we're called to live.