Jesus isn't lettin' you off the hook. The Scriptures don't let

The words of Bono—“Jesus isn't lettin' you off the hook. The Scriptures don't let you off the hook so easily... When people say, you know, 'Good teacher', 'Prophet', 'Really nice guy' ... this is not how Jesus thought of Himself”—strike with the force of a challenge hurled across the centuries. They remind us that Jesus cannot be reduced to a comfortable figure, a safe icon of kindness or moral instruction. To encounter Him is to be confronted with a claim that demands decision: either He is who He said He was—the Son of God, the Christ—or else He is something far less. There is no refuge in half-acknowledgment. To call Him merely “a good man” is to miss the very fire of His words and the daring of His mission.

The origin of this truth lies in the testimony of Scripture itself. For when Christ spoke, He did not present Himself as a mere teacher among teachers. He claimed authority to forgive sins, to judge nations, to grant eternal life. He declared, “I am the way, the truth, and the life.” Such statements do not allow Him to be safely confined to the company of prophets or philosophers. As C.S. Lewis once observed, a man who says such things is either a liar, a lunatic, or the Lord Himself. Bono’s words echo this timeless insight: Jesus presses the world to decide.

History reveals how this confrontation has shaped lives. Consider Saul of Tarsus, later known as the Apostle Paul. At first, he despised the followers of Jesus, seeing Him as a false prophet and a dangerous heretic. But on the road to Damascus, Paul was struck down by a vision of the risen Christ, and in that moment, he could not dismiss Jesus as merely “a good teacher.” He had to reckon with the truth of His divinity, and the decision changed the course of his life—and through his letters, the course of history itself. Here we see Bono’s words embodied: Jesus does not let us remain on the fence. He demands a response.

The emotional force of this quote lies in its refusal to allow comfort. We want safe heroes, figures we can admire without surrendering to them. To call Jesus a “really nice guy” is to make Him harmless, to strip His cross of its scandal and His resurrection of its power. But the Scriptures cry against such reduction. The Christ who overturned tables in the temple, who rebuked the proud, who demanded that men leave everything to follow Him, cannot be reduced to a symbol of politeness. His claim was—and remains—absolute.

There is also something heroic in this teaching, for it calls us to courage. To confess Jesus as Lord is not a light matter, and never was. The early Christians were thrown to lions and burned as torches in Rome, not because they claimed He was “a good man,” but because they proclaimed Him as King above Caesar. Their bravery was born of conviction that Christ was not merely a prophet but the Son of the Living God. Bono’s words remind us that this same choice lies before every generation: either to dismiss Him politely, or to follow Him boldly.

The lesson for us is clear: we must examine not what the world says about Jesus, but what He said about Himself. We must choose whether to take Him at His word, or to reject Him. There is no safe middle ground, no half-loyalty, no gentle admiration without surrender. For if He is who He claimed, then everything changes—our lives, our values, our destinies. To pretend otherwise is to hide from the truth.

What, then, shall we do? Let us not dismiss Christ with shallow compliments, but wrestle with His true identity. Let us read the Scriptures with open eyes, allowing His words to challenge us. Let us be willing to follow Him even when it is costly, for true discipleship demands more than respect—it demands devotion. And let us live in such a way that we, like Paul, like the martyrs, like countless unnamed saints, bear witness to the Christ who is not “just a teacher,” but the Lord of all.

Thus, Bono’s words echo the voice of Scripture itself: Jesus will not let you off the hook. He is not merely a prophet, not merely a good man, but the Christ, the Son of God. And in that claim lies both the scandal and the glory of the gospel: that every soul must decide, and in deciding, either turn away or rise into the eternal light of His call.