Walking the Garden Path

Following Christ can be very exciting. Following Christ can be a little scary. There simply is no way that I can, in good conscience, tell you that it will always be easy to be a faithful disciple of Jesus.

Ask Peter about his experiences. Ask him if he was scared the night Jesus was arrested. Ask him if he worried what the religious leaders thought about his violation of Jewish traditions and laws. Ask him if it hurt when he was stoned, beaten, and ultimately crucified. Ask him if it was worth it.

I believe our choices are simpler today, and our risks are not as great, in this country. However, the teachings of Christ still require that we give ourselves away in the fashion He did at every moment leading up to and including Calvary. How we manage this life's resources and assets entrusted to us, how we relate to others, what we do with our time, etc., all are areas of discipleship that demonstrate the Lordship of Christ.

Religion often over simplifies the Christian life to a series of rules, dogmas, and rituals, all of which are designed to focus our attention on Christ. But it's easy to make the religious exercize the focus, losing the focus on Christ altogether. It's really important to remember that our actions are supposed to grow out of the relationship with God. And similarly, our actions should draw us closer to Him. But it all starts with the relationship. And the relationship is like any other--communication is key.

The easiest part about following Christ is the time we spend just being with Him, talking to Him, listening, just being. And if we stay there, we might think it will always be easy to know what to do, and to do it. But remember, the disciples were with Jesus the night He was arrested. Even though they were walking right alongside Him, they were scared, confused, and at least one of them struck out violently with a sword. The sweetest thing is that--even in that stressful moment--Jesus just fixed it, miraculously healing Malcus' ear. I don't really like being scared and confused, but I'd love to have been there.

As we walk together with Christ and the family of disciples here, there will be moments of fear and confusion. It's inevitable, because we have an enemy who will confront us. We will likely screw up, individually and collectively, and Jesus will have to fix it. I don't really like being scared and confused, but I really have to be there. And I want to be there with you.

Learning Jesus

Following Jesus means alot of things, but the baseline has to start with learning about Him.

We all learn in a variety of ways. I enjoy reading, because I can analyze detail, going back to reread things that prompt me to think. I also like listening to the stories of Jesus' life, work, miracles, etc. My grandfather used to tell stories, and somehow, to me, the stories of Jesus are just golden. But maybe the most invigorating learning process for me is experiential. When I am engaged in purposely "living the life of Christ," I am constantly in conversation with God. I want to do my best to think like Christ, act like Christ and just BE, like Christ.

I think the benchmark for learning of Christ is to examine the historical, biographical record of His life, which is found primarily in the 4 "gospel" books of the Bible--Matthew, Mark, Luke & John. When read like a novel, the story is gripping. When read by a devotee, a lot of detail jumps out. When scrutinized, the normal inconsistencies and unique idiosyncrasies of a very special life become the "stuff" of criticism as well as inspiration. The criticisms can become faith challenging, or they can become the very confirmation of our faith that Jesus was somehow, supernaturally, both God and man. The record appears imperfect. Yet, somehow, I am inspired to believe the imperfections are perceptual. I may never understand the perceived conflicts, this side of heaven. But I realize that any life held up to scrutiny will often hold surprises, paradoxes and conundrums for the studious observer.

Having read the stories of Christ over and over, listening to more sermon and stories than I can recount, and engaging in flights of fancy identifying with the principal character, I find myself, at 50 years of age, still fully consumed with the idea that I can--I should--be like Him.

The experience of sharing life with someone changes us. I share my life with Christ. I am changed. I understand, because I try to understand, His thoughts. I see how He lives, and I am inspired to live like Him. I see how He died, how He gave himself away for others, a sacrifice, and I am moved to think new thoughts about the value of my life, and how it should be spent, not just consumed.

When I was a child, I read the biography of Francis Marion (a.k.a. "Swampfox"). I wanted to be like him. He was smart, a skilled rider, well liked, and a man of principle and conviction. I liked those things, and thought him worthy of my emulation. When I read the story of Jesus, I knew nothing else, no one else, ever even came close. This was the life to model. This was the man who changed lives, my life, forever. The Spirit made it possible for me to experience Christ, personally, in a way I never imagined possible. He still does.

And I'm still learning.

I'm listening.

Sometimes I'm just really aware that repetition is the only way we'll actually hear and learn something. And when repetition comes our way, it's probably a good bet that God's trying to tell us something important.

Lately, the recurrent theme seems to be "if you'll take the blame for the failures, you'll likely take the credit for the successes."

Sounds reasonable. On the face, it's sounds like an accountability lesson with rewards promised for the guy willing to "take it on the chin for his mistakes." But when I talk to God, over and over He tells me it's really a lesson about arrogance and pride.

I love to give God thanks and praise for the victories. Success seems to be His "middle name." He's very good to me--and all of His children. We know that every good thing comes from God. And we want to give Him praise for the successes we enjoy. But there are times when our experiences require adjustments many of us can only describe as failures. We are willing servants of the Almighty, all-knowing God, who sometimes calls us to service that to us may appear fruitless. Because we can't see the future of the larger picture, we can't know the part our sacrifice plays. The significance of our role may seem small or, worse, huge--and embarrassing--when we perceive failure.

But the truth is, when we sign as disciples of Christ, we are called to follow Him to a cross. His greatest success surely looked like a failure to most onlookers of that day. I'm willing to give Him credit for the successes. I know full well that He is able to do all things. I know that if I am able, it's because His Spirit lives within me, enabling & empowering me. By the same token, I must be willing to give Him credit for the failures, trusting that, although I may never see the other side of the failure, it plays a role in the development of my "reasonable service" and His Kingdom.

Success? Failure? I'm OK with that. Or I will be.

The Nature of Relationship

We need each other. We need to be needed, as much as we need others. In fact, some counselors suggest the greatest human need is the need to be needed. Commonly called "the search for significance," most of us find great satisfaction in the relationships we build and maintain with people we genuinely care about.

It shouldn't be at all surprising that we so highly value relationships. We were created for relationship. God created us for fellowship with Him. He recognized the longing within man for relationship, and created a help-mate for him, from him. We really are connected to each other, and to God. Our innermost longings can only be satisfied in relationships. And our greatest, aching, innermost longing is for God. Our search for significance is really a search for Him.

Some worry the search is in vain. Some fear that the search is futile, contending "there is no God." But Jesus said that everyone who keeps searching will find. The garden story, at the very beginning of the Bible, tells of God searching for Adam & Eve, after their sin. I believe the life and sacrifice of Christ is the ultimate story of God searching for us. He wants a relationship with us. We need only reach up to Him. He's already reaching out to us.

We were created for fellowship with God. He gave us the capacity to participate in relationship with Him, in an intelligent, loving fashion. As a result, we have the capacity, also, to participate in relationship with other people. In fact, the capacity to love and be loved, to hear and be heard--or perhaps better stated, to understand and be understood, to accept and be accepted, are perhaps the most common and important human traits.

While most of us search for interpersonal relationships to meet our needs, many are unaware that the single greatest fulfillment available in human experience is found in a personal relationship with God. Many find it completely normal to talk to ourselves, but may find it a little uncomfortable for others to know they talk to an invisible, quiet God. Like the discomfort of conversation with someone you just met for the first time, or perhaps that of a first date, the only way to make it work is to just do it.

Talk to God. Take the chance of not knowing what to say. Take the chance that some may think you're psychotic. Take the chance that He will hear you. He will listen. He will care. He will respond.

The March to the Sea

I thank God for people like Os Hillman, who write things that might not be popular or appear reasonable to many, simply because they are following their sense of the Spirit's leading. People like this are often criticized for "not being very smart," because many see no sense in going a direction not commonly taken, or that doesn't appear to lead directly to the goal.

In a recent devotional from his book "TGIF (Today God is First), Os talks about the path God chose for Moses and Israel to follow on their departure from Egypt. The route most everyone chose to travel in those days went to the north and east, generally close to the Mediterranean coast, and more directly toward the goal of the Promised Land. Moses followed the course God provided, leading directly to the deep, southern waters of the Red Sea.

So crazy does this seem, that most scholars find the course described in Exodus as "nonsensical" or incomprehensible, and believe it was simply written from some ethereal, spiritual perspective--not real or true. The Israelites thought it crazy at the time, too. Certain that Pharaoh's armies would kill them all, they complained loudly about the stupidity of their leader.

God said "keep moving" even though the Red Sea was in front of them, blocking their path. It just didn't make any sense--at least, not from any human perspective. We know how the story worked into the miracle, with God making the way for deliverance through the waters that ultimately swallowed Pharaoh's army. But the fear, anger and doubts of God's people at that time remind me that the miracles of God don't come because of our faith or anything we do. Miracles happen because God is God.

We're not usually at the place where God is doing God things. Because we think it's not cost effective. Because we don't think it makes sense to go south, when the "straight" route is north. Because we think it's easier to do what we want. Because we don't like to be uncomfortable. Or lonely. Or poor. Or . . . whatever. But when we listen to God, do what He says, go where He leads, and just generally follow His instruction, we increase the probability of being exactly where He is doing the things we call miracles. Right in the middle of the fear and doubt. When you think there's nowhere left to turn. When you're scared out of your wits, ready to just die.

I don't think God intends faith to be just for adrenaline junkies. But I do believe He does what He does in places and times many are unwilling to be. Faithfulness is required throughout the mundane hard march to the place God calls us, even when we don't see the logic and want to complain about the insanity of it all. We don't even have to understand what God intends. We just have to be crazy enough to keep marching to the sea.

I AM He is; You are. Active Faith

Christianity is an activist religion, if I dare use the word religion in association with Christianity.

Christianity is all consuming faith, resultant of the relationship that develops between God and the disciple. The Holy Spirit of God is welcomed into the life of the believer, and the believer is completely transformed by the experience--weak become strong; fear becomes courage; weariness becomes excitement; joy is found in the work the leads to the victory that consumes what once was a spirit of defeat. The poor become filled with the richness of the Kingdom, and the sick find their strength renewed in the healing power of Christ.

Such experiences beg to be shared! How can one experience joy and not show it, share it? How can one receive forgiveness and not be moved to forgive? How can one receive so much and not want to give?

Our experiences in Christ move us to act. Faith is a verb. We doubt that anything can be done to overcome the evil in the world, until we encounter Christ. Filled with the experience, we realize that the power to overcome evil is within us. We can do as Christ has done before--we can give ourselves to the liberating cause, investing ourselves, all we have and all we are, in the cause of defeating the evil, setting the captives free, paying the debts of our brothers, salving the wounds of our sisters, making a new world in the midst of what has for too long been the enemy's domain.

The Spirit that lives within the believer is the Spirit of Christ Himself. He is love, He is grace, He is healing, He is sacrificing, He is power, He is the Son of God. "To all who receive Him, He gave power to become sons of God." He lives within you, and He is all those things. Therefore, you are too.

Believe.

Act.

With all your heart, soul, strength and mind

The basics of Christianity are pretty simple and straightforward--Jesus is the Christ, the son of the one true God, whose sacrifice covers the sin of any who will follow Him as faithful disciples. He calls us to follow Him, keeping His commandments, living as He lived, living as He lives within us. His commandments: Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, strength and mind. Love your neighbor as yourself. His example: Do not condemn people--not even the guilty. Be gracious. Give yourself completely for the redemption of others. Giving is the reward (nothing is more fulfilling).


The basics are simple and straightforward. They are also virtually impossible. The Holy Spirit of Christ living in us makes us like Him, making it possible to keep His commandments. We do the discipline, but using His power, His strength, having His mind. But how?


We ask.


If we ask, He makes us new. Not just once, but every time. It's called prayer.


We were created for fellowship with God. Christians are creatures of prayer, by prayer, for prayer. We cannot exist without it. We cannot persist without it. We cannot even come close to the standard, except by prayer, putting us in close proximity with God where we are changed. Again, and again, and again.


Prayer is the conversation we have with God. But it's so much more. It's the secret to the Christian life.

Snow?

As if to prove the point, it's really been snowing in Northern New York. I've heard all the horror stories, not the least of which is the cause of our current building project (roof collapse under snow load? C'mon, that's just something they write about in the code to scare you into building it right, isn't it?). I've also heard the Global Warming stories that say winters are milder now, and it doesn't really snow until February now.



Well, I often complain about the apparent time warp here, that leaves me incapable of accomplishing ordinary things on ordinary timelines. But I know it's not February yet, and it just keeps snowing. The flurries on the first day of the new year piled up to at least several inches or more. I plowed in the morning, when it looked like the radar showed it about to stop snowing. I plowed again in the afternoon, when I thought surely it was finished. I went to bed with at least a couple more inches on the ground, knowing I'll have to get up early to plow so that someone can get to the doctor and so that meals on wheels can access a driveway, etc. And now they say the high tomorrow won't make ten degrees. Please.




But seriously, it's no big deal. It's just weather. The snow, the cold, the warm ups and crazy thaws before the freezers--no big deal. Wonderful people, honest work, high hopes and expectations are what really count. I'm happy to be where God puts me, in Missouri, Kansas, Northern New York or where ever. Trusting God for the outcomes, for our families, for our successes and failures, no matter where we are, is what really matter.