Imagine this as the acid test for Christian discipleship: "I am in earnest about forsaking 'the world' and following Christ. But I am puzzled about worldly things. What is it I must forsake?" a young man asks. "Colored clothes, for one thing. Get rid of everything in your wardrobe that is not white. Stop sleeping on a soft pillow. Sell your musical instruments and don't eat any more white bread. You cannot, if you are sincere about obeying Christ, take warm baths or shave your beard. To shave is to lie against Him who created us, to attempt to improve on His Work."

Quaint, isn't it this example of extra-biblical scruples? And perhaps amusing. The list has constantly shifted over the 1,800 years since this one was actually recorded. And let's say it's beyond quaint. It's absurd and yet it is the answer given in the most celebrated Christian schools of the second century! Is it possible that the rules that have been adopted by many twenty-first-century Christians may sound as absurd to followers of Christ a 100 years years from now?

Jesus asked the man he healed not to say how he had been healed. Why? Because of our scruples. We have a penchant for taking the greatest moments and bringing them down, twisting them and robbing them of their joy. Our...scruples! No white bread. No soft pillows. No more music.