poor planning

I saw The Nativity Story yesterday with the kids. Not the best bit of film making ever, but a good movie, much better than the nativities of my youth—more earthy, dusty. It made the story of the Advent very large and real. It's probably just my lack of imagination, but when I saw Zechariah and Elizabeth and Joseph and Mary and the others in my mind's eye, it was one dimensional. Seeing them in their natural setting—their rocky towns, their fields of wheat, their dusty highways, their sneering townsfolk, their Roman overlords—for me took it off of the flannel graph and onto the cosmic stage of Reality.

But the oddest thing was rolling around in my head as I sat there watching this beautiful story unfold—two words: poor planning.

I mean, couldn't God have planned it a little better? First of all, God waits until after Mary is "betrothed" to Joseph to tell her (ask her?) to become pregnant as a virgin. (I understand in their culture "betrothed" meant you were married except for conjugal rights.) Next, Mary goes to visit Elizabeth, who knows immediately that she's pregnant, and goes back home when she's showing. That goes over real great with Joseph, who has no clue until this point, so the same angel shows up again to comfort (apologize to?) Joseph with the news that his "wife" really has been faithful to him, still is a virgin, and this pregnancy indeed is from God like she says. Oh. Well, thanks for the heads up. I mean, would it have killed you to tell me this ahead of time? But wait. Now there's this census and everyone has to travel back to the city of their ancestor with their family (!) to be counted, which at this juncture will put Mary at about 9 months. Even if God doesn't know the future, doesn't he know what's going on in the world today? Surely this census had been brewing for some time. It takes more than a phone call to pull one of these things off when you've got a whole world to count without computers. And it's great to have visitors when you have a new baby, but shepherds? These guys are the basest, dirtiest, stinkiest, most unwelcome types for a baby shower. (And here's where the movie departs from the bible version where the wise men weren't there until later—it was just shepherds.) It almost seems like an afterthought, like "I've got this incredible joy in the birth of my only son that I've been anticipating since the foundation of the cosmos, but I forgot to invite anyone to come and see his birth. Wait, it's not too late. Let's round up some shepherds in a field nearby. They're always looking for some excitement." And then they make it to Bethlehem according to plan, except by now the town's full, and from the best I can tell, either they got there at night just in time for a lightning fast delivery, or else Joseph had some real sorry relatives, because they end up setting the baby in the manger (stable?) "because there was no room for them in the inn." And now all their travails are turning to joy at the birth of their child, but before they can get settled in real good in Bethlehem, the angel show up in another dream to warn them of an imminent danger, advising them to flee to Egypt. Egypt?! Yeah. All the babies two and under in the whole region will die because of Jesus, and the angel wants to make sure they don't die for nothing. It really seems like this angel's job in life is disaster recovery. Joseph ends up having two more dreams before they finally get back home.

I mean, when you step back and think about it, couldn't a little planning have gone a long way?

The best thing about the movie for me was Joseph. I love his character and love the way it was acted. Such a good man. His most memorable line for me was on their hard journey to Bethlehem. He feels so inadequate and tells Mary, "I don't think I'll be able to teach him anything." And then I saw him rationing his bread, sharing some with his donkey so it would have the strength to go the distance with the ones he loved. Or even before that when he came to Mary, who everyone would stone for her adultery, and took up for her. And I wondered if Jesus didn't learn something from his earthly father after all.

You know, maybe I'm being unfair with God about the planning thing. Maybe lack of planning is the plan. Maybe God likes to wade into things like that, and maybe he looks for people who are willing to do the same, to go without a plan, perhaps without even knowing where they are going. Maybe God doesn't understand his job to be smoothing out the speed bumps and filling in the potholes in my life through proper planning. Maybe Jesus was serious when he said, "Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof." And when I read that, I wonder if Jesus didn't learn something from his heavenly Father after all.

all the other choices

Did you ever know anyone who seemed to have no trouble making choices?

The thing I'm thinking about now is that we all make choices every day, if they could be called that. And these choices exist on several levels in our minds.

First level. I'm hungry. I will eat. Second level. MacDonald’s sounds good. I will go to MacDonald's. Third level. I could eat something here at home, but I like getting out of the house. Fourth level. I like living the American life of convenience. I will get something convenient. Fifth level. If I’m hungry I obviously should eat because those two things go together. Deepest level. I have needs and they are to be swiftly met by others.

Or it could follow another track.

First level. I’m hungry. I will eat. Second level. Taco Bell sounds good. I will go to Taco Bell. Third level. I could make something here at home, but I don’t have time to prepare something before I get to soccer practice, the bank, my hair appointment, and Radio Shack before it closes. I will get something quick. Fourth level. I could slow down and try to enjoy life, but quick things are better because I can get so much more done. Fifth level. My life consists of the things that I do. I will choose doing lots of things. Deepest level. My life is empty. Who or what will fill me up?

Or again…

First level. I’m hungry. I will eat. Second level. Wendy’s sounds good. I will go to Wendy’s. Third level. I know it’s not the healthiest, but it tastes good. I will eat tasty food. Fourth level. When I eat healthy, I feel smart but when I eat tasty food I feel pampered. I will be pampered. Fifth level. I deserve to be pampered because of my country of birth (or my race or my gender or my household income…) And so on…

I guess I picked fast food because I imagine we all eat a lot of it (I know I do), and because we all probably choose it with little consideration. Nobody ever thinks these things through to the deepest levels. Maybe once a year does someone ask themselves, you know, why do I eat so much fast food? Or why is it so important to me to…? Or why do I always…? The deeper reasons are seated in our subconscious, or rather somewhere deep in our souls.

I wonder if Jesus lived that way.

Jesus and his class had an on-the-go lifestyle, and they did do fast food. They were known to pick grains as they passed through fields. But I have to wonder, did Jesus’ decision tree look like one of ours?

Hm.

If you think about it, the deeper choice is a fountain feeding the shallower ones. The deeper choice sweeps the shallower choices along. The deeper choice is weightier. It matters more.

What if we lived from the deep instead of from the surface? What if we lived from our one heart instead of from our many faces? What if we didn’t wait for these external stimuli (hunger, gas prices, boss, commercials, peer pressure, whatever) to blow us around? What if we lived in the constant recognition that every choice was more or less a symptom, and not a cause? What if we rejected the idea that the value of our life is just the sum of our choices? What if we accepted the idea that every choice we make is only a brainchild of the big choice we’ve already made: what we are alive to and what we are dead to? Would that make a difference? Would it be a simpler way to live? a better way?

Jesus said no man can serve two masters. Either he will love the one and hate the other or hate the one and love the other. He will be dead to one and alive to the other. Paul wrote a good bit about this idea of walking in life and death, of simultaneously living and dying in Romans 6-8.

I think Paul and Jesus picked up on something. I think they woke up every day knowing that they were both dead and alive. They woke up every day knowing, then, which things and people were dead and which were alive to them. They woke up every day knowing, then, that whatever choices they made that day were already made because they were just incidental. In other words, the choices that they were faced with on that day were just little versions of the choice they had already made. They were really just opportunities for them to confirm the choice they had already made. Now, I personally think the choices were clearer for Jesus than for Paul. Hence the need for a certain type of prayer.

I have asked people before how I could pray for them. Sometimes they say they need “wisdom” or direction” from God. And they sometimes have this idea that they need to make the “right” choice. Now I’ve heard all kinds of discussion on whether it’s a sin to make the wrong choice or if God doesn’t really care because it is all where your heart is, etc. But those discussions weary me.

Maybe if our prayer started with the question of what I’m alive to and what I’m dead to, then the fog of the choices today would come clear, lose a lot of their heaviness, and let the light in.

One of the results of living this way is freedom. If I know who I am to God, what role He has given me, what I’m alive to, and what I’m dead to, and I am content in that, then the so-called choices that come along every day are a light burden. I think I might even get to the place Jesus was—so free, so focused, so content, so confident, so careless, so care-full, so determined, so joyful.

But I don’t think I can get there at all by studying the Bible, identifying all the choices that might present themselves to me, and being prepared with a right answer for each of them. I do think I can get there by having a profound sense of who I am, what I am about, and what I’m alive to, and what I’m dead to.

But who do you know that is sure of their choices? I think Jesus was. And I think Jesus was because he made his priority knowing his life and his death instead of learning how to make good choices.

Jesus made himself what he is by deathing himself into the will of the eternal Father—thus plunging into the fountain of his own life, the everlasting Fatherhood, and taking the Godhead of the Son. – George MacDonald

All the other choices are just steps along the way.

every choice

Every day we make choices
Not life or death choices
Life and death choices

Every step we take
Is a step into a death
Is a step out of a life

Every step we take
Is a step into a life
Is a step out of a death

Every choice is
What death?
What life?

Jesus Before Christianity

If I were going to start a movement this would be the name of it. I long for all senses of the phrase, Jesus before Christianity. Here are Albert Nolan's opening words from the book of the same title,

Many millions throughout the ages have venerated the name of Jesus, but few have understood him and fewer still have tried to put into practice what he wanted to see done. His words have been twisted and turned to mean everything, anything and nothing. His name has been used and abused to justify crimes, to frighten children and to inspire men and women to heroic foolishness. Jesus has been more frequently honored and worshipped for what he did not mean than for what he did mean. The supreme irony is that some of the things he opposed most strongly in the world of his time were resurrected, preached and spread more widely throughout the world—in his name.

Jesus cannot be fully identified with the great religious phenomenon of the Western world known as Christianity. He was much more than the founder of one of the world’s great religions. He stands above Christianity as the judge of all it has done in his name. Nor can historical Christianity claim him as its exclusive possession. Jesus belongs to all humanity.

Isn't it amazing to think that there was a Jesus before Christianity? That there really was a man who walked the earth, who had friends, who ate and drank, who played, who worked, who taught certain things and lived a certain life? That before the robes and chants and creeds and councils and conventions and denominations and cadences and services and styles and pleas that there was a real, flesh and blood man who talked a certain way, walked a certain way, ate a certain way, slept a certain way, touched a certain way, healed a certain way...who lived a certain way?

Isn't it amazing to think that the image we see on TV and in prayer rooms and in worship services and in seminars and in concerts and in church committee meetings and on Sunday mornings is not in truth Jesus but rather Christianity? That Jesus is before this and will be the judge of how much if any of this was the Word made Flesh ?

Isn't it amazing to think that we are now in a Post-Christian world? That Christianity has run its course?

But the most amazing thing to me is that I don't think God is worried about any of this—not about the travesties done in the name of Christ on the one hand, nor about the conclusion of Christianity on the other.

But if you find yourself frustrated with us for ignoring your demands, for not following your rules, for not accepting your premises, for not joining in on your goals and your methods and your plans—take heart: we have chosen Jesus before Christianity. And it's going to work out.

life is good

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh............

It's a good day.

I hold in my hands my very own copy of John Eldredge's brand new book, The Way of the Wild Heart, hot off the press, delivered to my front door step. I can't wait to read it. But for now I can't get over the smell of the ink, the crispness of the pages, the shine of the title, the beauty of the cover, and the idea of once again opening wide my mind, opening wide my heart. First things first. Books, like words, like people you love, are to be savoured, not devoured.

for the hurt

This one goes out to all the people who have hurt me.

Thank you. You will never know what you have done for me. Because of you I am not happier, not wealthier, not stronger, not more respectable, not better looking. Because of you I am holier. By holier I do not mean that I am more sinless, although that is a clear result, nor do I mean that I am better than you or that God loves me more. What I mean is that I am more set apart, more set aside. I belong less to you, your world, your organizations, your parties, your cliques. Thank you for hurting me, thank you for judging me, thank you for the whispering about me, thank you for sending me away. Thank you above all for the rejection that all the wounds carried. Because if you are a man of enough sorrows, if you become acquainted with enough grief, and if enough people hide their faces from you, then you get to a place where the only one left looking at you is God. And that’s a holy place.

Some people down through history have gone out seeking martyrdom in foreign lands with pagan kings. That those closest to me have hurt me the most has graciously spared me that journey.

From my heart, thank you.

across the bridge of hope

Human beings suffer,
They torture one another,
They get hurt and get hard.
No poem or play or song
Can fully right a wrong
Inflicted or endured.

History says, Don't hope
On this side of the grave.
But then, once in a lifetime
The longed for tidal wave
Of justice can rise up,
And hope and history rhyme.
~Seamus Heaney

My in-laws came to visit last weekend bearing this album. They said they listened to it over and over all the way to Colorado and back. And they wanted me to hear it. Hmm.

The album is a tribute to the people who died in the terrorist bombing in Omagh in 1998. All the proceeds are going to the families of the victims. You can read about it here on Amazon. It's great if you like Celtic, including Enya singing Silent Night in Gaelic.

I put the CD in and heard Aslan reciting Heaney's poem, which was kind of cool. But still, I had no idea why they wanted me to hear it or what they liked about it. But that all began to change when I got to this song...

Broken Things
by Juliet Turner

You can have my heart
But it isn't new
It's been used and broken
And only comes in blue
It's been down a long road
And it got dirty on the way
If I give it to you will you make it clean
Wash the pain away

You can have my heart
If you don't mind broken things
You can have my heart
If you don't mind these tears
But I heard that you make all things new
So I give these pieces all to you
If you want it you can have my heart

So beyond repair
Nothing I could do
Tried to fix it myself
But it was only worse when I got through
Then you walked into my darkness
And you speak words so sweet
And you hold me like a child
Till my frozen tears fall at your feet

You can have my heart
If you don't mind broken things
You can have my heart
If you don't mind these tears
But I heard that you make all things new
So I give these pieces all to you
If you want it you can have my heart