walking till my feet ache

I went to Border's bookstore today after I had finished a couple of
hours of in-school observation for my art education classes, and I was
a little depressed by what I saw. It wasn't anything out of the
ordinary, nothing hugely controversial, but it got to me nonetheless.
There was this particular periodical on the magazine rack that caught
my eye; "The Real Jesus" was printed boldly on the front, with a
traditional oil painting of... I was going to say of our Savior, but
it's not like anyone actually sat down and drew his portrait, is it?
But yes, this pictorial representation of what we think Jesus looked
like, or whatever. Anyway, I found myself wondering, "The real Jesus?
Don't we already know this? Can't we be content with the Jesus we have.
I'd say He's pretty much alright as it stands." I became annoyed as I
read. And what annoyed me I think is that the words on the page, the
pictures, the titles, just seemed like the words of a giant, wheezing,
windbag. Like a whoopee cushion. A whoopee cushion in print, screaming
at me from a bookshelf.

I decided to move over to the Christian section. In these moments of mine, these times of cynicism, skepticism,and overall hardness of heart, I do not want to look at the
"Christian Inspiration" type books. I find the idea vacuous and superficial, and perhaps this is true even outside my weak emotional state, but perhaps the thoughts just come more easily that way. I'm not saying these are necessarily bad for everyone; maybe somebody can get joy out of books with titles like, "Be A Better You in 7 Steps" or "Life is a Merry-go-round with Jesus!" or some such nonsense. To be frankly honest, I think my life would be far easier and happier without Christ.

Does this mean I dislike Jesus? Sometimes I do. Why? Because He goes against everything my flesh wants. Do you dislike your parents? They give you masses of love and affection, if they're any good, but that never stopped anyone from sneaking out of the house to throw rocks at a fence or whatever kids do. God prods me to do things that I just don't want to do. God chastises and corrects, so yes, there are times when I don't appreciate that. But then I suck it up and get over it. But I don't hate Jesus.

I don't hate, but love Him for a few reasons. But first, I want to clarify what I mean when I say "I'd be happier without Christ." I view happiness as a state of
blissful ignorance, a mental position of freedom from care and concern.
Generally, I don't get this from Jesus. What I get from Jesus is an
acute awareness of my idiocy, an understanding of the absolutely ridiculous
amount of evil and deceit in this world, and my inability to do
anything at all to stop it. But I also have something else entirely,
which is Jesus Himself; I have the meaning of Life, and Life itself.
Does this make me happy? No, it makes me joyful. It sustains me, and at times does far more than that. At the least it is a slow drip-drop of gasoline into my fuel cell, and at the most, it is a practical hydrant of wet, gassy Love that cannot help but get all over everyone.

I doubt that sounds appealing, but that's what I understand a walk with Christ to be: uncomfortable, hard, depressing, joyful.

CS Lewis once said:

"I didn't go to religion to make me happy. I always knew a bottle of Port would do that. If you want a religion to make you feel really comfortable, I certainly don't recommend Christianity."

Amen.

climbing the ladder

I was just thinking today about a former co-worker at a job I held last summer waiting at an "upscale" Chinese restaurant (think Ted's Montana Grill, but trendy and from Canton... and without the buffalo). We called him Roy, mostly because that is his name. He was a Christian, in the Pentacostal vein, so there was a lot of Benny Hinn and general TBN watching on his part. During my stint at Jade's Bistro, I was feeling dissatisfied with my Christianity, that is, as my status as a "little Christ," so I looked at this guy's life and wondered what he was doing differently, because to me he seemed to really believe what he was talking about, and to be excited about it. The most obvious difference was that he payed attention to guys like Benny Hinn and... whoever.

So I did too.

Big mistake. I know people have gone on and on about these folks, so I won't do that here, but what I will say is, get your spiritual food from a trustworthy source, like the Bible for instance, or get morsels from a friend whose life you are familiar with. Trying to understand TV's favorite miracle-healer left me thinking I must be an unfaithful person if I can't free people of physical ailment or be freed from it myself, because I thought, "These guys are so ON FIRE. They are so DEDICATED. They must know exactly what they're doing. Besides, Benny Hinn says if you bring an accusation against him, God will smite you, so yeah, he must be the real deal."
The mindset I only partially developed, thank God, was deleterious in that it focused on how other people related to God, not to mention that what was being planted in my mind was spattered with bad theology, and generally felt dishonest. So for a time, and I think I still struggle with this, I gave my faith to some guy on basic cable. I gave my faith to Pat Robertson and Christian books, and to religious literature and pseudo-religious websites.

I understand that behind all those books and TV personalities are real people, hopefully trying to follow Christ in truth and integrity, so I'm not going to rail on them right now. What I will harp on is my foolish trust in what they say, in their own theology and experience. Maybe there's nothing wrong with what what they believe, but I think there is something deeply wrong when I tried (and try) to make what they have my own. I have my own breath for a reason, for a purpose, and to forfeit that to some mortal life is not only impractical, but it is also sacrilege. It was a selfish striving to be better for the sake of being better.

But I cannot be any more now than what I can be.

Think of this concept in education. There is an developemental theory called the "zone of proximal developement," which says that at any given stage of developement, there is physically and mentally only a limit to what a person can understand. For instance, if you give a four-year-old a piece of paper and a crayon, and show him a Rembrandt, or heck, even if you show him a drawing a six-year-old did, he is simply not going to be able to copy that drawing, no matter how hard he tries. His brain and his muscles are just not capable; it's not in him. In order to teach that child, or any child, the teacher must reinforce what he already knows, and then reach just a le-e-tle bit higher. The child can grab on to the next rung of the ladder, then the next, and then the next, but that's all he can do. Maybe it will be more of a stretch sometimes, and maybe sometimes it will seem like the rungs come down to meet him. It is all part of learning.

And this is the way it is with spirituality and spiritual growth. God builds those in Christ in the way that He knows is best, and if that means I can't understand certain spiritual truths or have all the faith I want, well there's a good reason for that. It's out of my "zone of proximal developement." What that reason is specifically though, I can't pretend to know, but I do know God provides me with grace through Christ, and that ought to be enough for right now. I guess my point is to keep climbing the ladder, but don't be afraid if those hands and arms seem enduringly wrapped around your current crossbar.



There was another point I wanted to make, and it was really my original point. I remember standing at the Jade's Bistro half-bar, and watching TBN or something on the flatscreen with Roy, and Benny Hinn was on. Roy said:

"You know, Benny Hinn, he's really got the anointing, he's got that anointing. When he was a young man, God he really grabbed a hold of his heart, so he just hungered he hungered for the word of God. He just had to get it. He worked at a ice-cream place and he would just read his Bible there, his face in the book, just handing people their ice-cream, without even looking at them. Boy, he paid the price all right, he read that Bible eight hours a day. He has the anointing, yes, but he payed the price."

And early this morning as I recalled what he said, I thought:

"That has got to be one of the most rediculous things I've ever heard. He paid the price? What price? He got to read a book he thoroughly enjoyed? That is no price to pay! Guys from the beginning, the Apostles, like Peter, Paul, and Stephen. And Jesus! Those guys payed the price. They died for faith, they died for men's souls. They didn't just read a lot. So the next time I or anyone else thinks they or their loved one is paying some sort of price for what they believe, they ought to think of the countless Christians who lost their lives for the love of God and for man. When I have been scourged and died, when I have been humiliated and mentally abused, then I still have no right to complain. And there are people who were joyful when this stuff came upon them, because of the hope they had in Jesus. The world was unworthy of people with such faith.

And you know, I think that's where the last rung of the ladder is."


abrotherisborn.