Here’s a radical thought: It’s not possible to make Jesus Lord.

Oh, people have tried. The 5,000 people he fed in the desert wanted to make him Lord, or King, but he wouldn’t have it: “Jesus, knowing that they intended to come and make him King by force, withdrew again to a mountain by himself” (John 6:15).

Huh? I thought Jesus wanted to be King. To be Lord.


He doesn’t want to, he already is. He is Lord. He is the King of Kings. We don’t “make” Jesus anything. He is God, we can only acknowledge it or not. Surrender or not. Bow or not. We don’t make Jesus Lord, we make ourselves his servants and slaves.

The hungry crowd, you see, had just been fed lunch. So Jesus knew if he let them make him King, they’d make him the kind of King they wanted, not the King he really is. They didn’t want a master, they wanted a Burger King. A cafeteria lady.

We’re not much different. To “make” Jesus Lord is to try and fit him into a box of our making. To knock off his rough edges. To have him rule the stuff we’re comfortable with and leave the rest to us.

I am Lord, Jesus says. Deal with it. On my terms.

Paul says it best: “God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the father” (Philippians 2:9-11).

We don’t exalt him. He’s already exalted. Our job? We bow. We confess. One more thing, though—notice the tense of the verse. It’s present, not future. This isn’t, “One day everyone WILL bow.” This is, “Everyone SHOULD bow.”

That’s me. That’s you. And that’s right now.

Are you in?

Jesus, you are Lord and King. I bow to you. I place myself at your feet. I worship you. I am yours.