If we should ask ordinary, average worldly people what it means to become a Christian, their answers would vary somewhat as to form, but the substance would be the same and would be about as follows: 

   “Well, this is what happens. A man becomes restless and unhappy and can no longer be glad and enjoy life, due either to sickness, sorrow, poverty, or old age. This inner unrest compels him to seek peace with God. And the God to whose will he must conform his life is a severe and exacting Lord. The least He requires is this: 

   “You must quit practically everything from which you derive any pleasure, such as dancing, drinking, card-playing, the theater, and the society of congenial and interesting people, if these people are worldly. And then you must begin to do things which you do not care to do at all. You must go to church and hear sermons which have a beginning but scarcely an ending. You must read the Bible, which is, or course, a good book, but exceedingly tiresome, because you have already heard everything that it contains. You must pray to God every day, yea, several times a day, if the Lord is to be satisfied. You must begin to associate with these believers or ‘Bible readers,’ who, as a rule, are good people but helplessly stupid, narrow, and tiresome. For they must, of course, always sing and read and pray when they get together. And you can never get a sensible word out of them about ordinary things.” 

   That is, I believe, about the answer you would get.

   I am prepared to hear some one raise the objection that I have exaggerated the matter somewhat.

   But this is no exaggeration. Every worldly minded person is a proof of what I have said. They will not repent, even though most of them are convinced that they must change from the life they are now living.

   Why will they not repent? 

   Simply because they look upon Christianity as an evil, a necessary evil to be sure, but, at all events, an evil, which should be avoided as long as possible. Therefore they postpone their conversion as long as they possibly dare.

   They would rather “enjoy life,” as they say, while they live. Then when they become ill or reach old age, have an accounting with God, receive the Sacrament of the Altar, die a nice death, have a beautiful funeral sermon preached by the pastor, and enter directly into eternal bliss.

   Most people look upon such a life as the ideal, the best way of making the most of life’s opportunities. Their lives prove it.

   To them Christianity is an onerous burden, a yoke beneath which they must bend in order to satisfy the Lord. Here we are at the very core of the misunderstanding. . . Nowadays there are not so many worldly people who say this as openly as they said it in days past. But that they still think it, is shown by their fear of becoming Christians. They look upon earnest, vital Christianity as a heavy yoke, as an unnatural life, in which one must stifle life’s natural desire for happiness, and live a life in which neither head nor heart can enjoy the things they are supposed to enjoy.  

Why I Am A Christian - Ole Hallesby