Enough to live

So often we Christians misread and misrepresent the Jesus we say we believe in. Take for example the words written in Matthew 28:20 Go out to all the world, teaching them all I have taught you.  For centuries, we Christians took these words as a command to force our religious beliefs on others, even to the point of threatening death if they did not believe and be baptized. That is the way we Christians get things all balled up and actually harm the message rather than spread it. We take the words literally and miss the meaning behind them.

That is because we read the words, but fail to meditate on them. We look for easy answers in the message, instead of pondering them to find the deeper meaning beneath the story. Worse, we use quotes from the gospel as a way of rebuking or instructing others. We do this badly, because often the message we want others to get is not the message of that verse! We have, in effect, cheapened and corrupted our christian faith.

When I pick up the gospels, I need to look for the pearl of great price meant for me.  I need to avoid treating it as a book of history, doctrine, or even guidelines. As I read, I should remember it is a description of a life, a life divine and redemptive of one who invites me to follow him. Only then will I understand that life and feel no need to preach. It will be enough to live it.

A Familiar Gospel in a Different Light

The Prodigal Son. Sometimes when I hear familiar passages from the Gospels, I think we've got it all wrong. We think, yea, that's pretty straightforward. Squander your livelihood, and you'll end up crawling back begging for forgiveness.

Yet, today listening to the Gospel being read, it suddenly occurred to me just how similar we all are to the prodigal. Not in the way we usually think: sinner who squanders=need for crawling. But in God giving us an inheritance and setting us free to follow the desires of our hearts. Who of us gets it right the first time? If the prodigal had not gone away and seen life from a different perspective, he would never have come to really know his father. Knowing that father took simply an acknowledgement that he'd made a mistake. According to the story, the Father didn't love him less for that.

I sometimes think our tidied up religion keeps us from seeing the reality of life. We cannot live within a structure that keeps us from all harm. That isn't living; that is slavery. To venture forth means to deal with life as it really is, without pretense or false virtue. We will be robbed, we will be a victim at some point, and also we will betray our own best selves. But that is not the end of story (like time now to crawl back and beg). That is just part of the journey.

I know only too many who, for fear of making a mistake, continue in a false life, where expectations can be met, and no surprise will throw them off guard. Yet, they are the most unhappy people I know.

The prodigal took a chance. And in the end, he grew. What are we willing to chance for spiritual growth?

Death and Pain

Some years ago a book titled "Why bad things happen to good people" hit the market by storm. Recently, I looked up the book to see who wrote it and what it was about. And I was impressed to know the author wrote about his own pain and finding peace with his son's death at age 14. What struck me most in the preface was his statement that while watching his son deteriorate before his eyes (he'd known his son would die young since he was 3) many people gave him answers, but none of the answers addressed his own questions about God and the pain we are forced to endure.

We all know as followers of Jesus that pain and sorrow will come our way. It comes not because we are followers, but because we live in a human world. The  biggest mistake we make in pain is passing it off with phrases that sound holy, but do not help the heart. "Carry your cross" or "God will not give you more than you can bear" or "his grace is sufficient for you" do not answer the question Mary herself put to Jesus when she found him in the temple, My son, why have you done this to us?

Pain and sorrow sear the soul. It can devastate a person, but it also offers the opportunity for a stronger faith and hope. The answers best for us are the ones we find ourselves as we walk through the darkness and pain. Somehow, in the mists and agony, we can find answers to the questions that plague the heart. We must just be patient.

I once read in a conference by Frederick Faber's that said those souls most like God tend to suffer the most in this life. Such thoughts do not help much at the time of pain. But being there for a friend, letting them know wordlessly that we care, reaching out to comfort a heart; these things help such thoughts bear fruit.