the Jesus I know

Something written awhile back, that never got used. It was written in response to the question of who Jesus is, you know, with those many varieties floating around out there.




‘And who do you say that I am?’

This is the part where you attach your ‘personalized version of Jesus’ sticker, all sparkly and shiny ________. Don’t forget to double-check to make sure he is wearing the right name tag, and by all means make sure you have put him in the right group. You wouldn’t want him to end up over there with those people.
I have issues with labels: They don’t sum up a person. They categorize them and try to fit them in a box along with fifty-thousand other people, who are of course, exact replicas of each other. Since when do we refer to our friends and people we know dearly as a category and only that? They are defined by their character and their very being, they are defined by who they are.
I took a field trip to the library the other day and wandered about a bit aimlessly until I was sucked into the religion section. I stood there, gaping up at all the titles of books, Jesus’ name repeatedly staring back at me with any sort of attachment imaginable. And I got tired; it was the same kind of exhaustion that used to come after fifteen minutes of shopping with my crazed, bargain hunting sister when all I wanted was my hoodie. It reminded me of a clothing store, just pick the one that fits you:
“Jesus and the Revolutionaries”
“The Historical Jesus”
“Jesus was a feminist” (at which point I started chuckling….dismissing the fact that I was in a library)
“What Jesus Meant”
“The Mystical life of Jesus”
“A New Life of Jesus”

And I can’t help but wonder why we have this almost irresistible pull to morph Jesus into all these different varieties. It seems like we are always putting some sort of agenda on Jesus. “He is left,” “He is right,” “this means he is a revolutionary,” “and this part here means that he was for social justice.” But our versions of Jesus are just that: our versions. We assign him the characteristics we think are prettiest, or most flattering. We give him all the right leanings to squeeze into our ideologies. We mold him like clay on a spinning wheel until he looks just like us, or worse, some trendy form of what we think we should be. None of this draws us away from ourselves or from the comfort we have barricaded ourselves inside of. Everyone seems to enjoy their form of Jesus because he is always on their side, in their club. He is of course, pointing the finger along with us at all those other people over there who got it all wrong. We recycle and care about the earth, we stand for the innocent and defend those being wronged in the world. We don’t conform to the materialistic, greed-eating, consumer-driven lives of America. We promote tolerance and peace….. And oh how the arguments fly from all sides. How we hate to be compared in any way to those we try so hard to divorce ourselves from. Drugged by our own efforts to make ourselves good, we are disillusioned in thinking we can love so many in the world and not love the person standing in front of us. In the process, we have removed any need for Jesus to come and tell us we are all selfish sinners. Now we can achieve our own goodness. Funny how it all looks like the same fuzzy picture painted in ten different ways.
Until we are made extremely uncomfortable, until we are offended by the things that flew out of Jesus’ mouth because they are so backwards and contrary to what we think we should be living, until we are utterly humbled by the gaze of someone that can see right through every walled façade we have piled high to keep out others and ourselves, until Jesus disrupts who we are, shakes out everything we cling to for security….until this Jesus tells us to forsake everything for him, I will have a hard time buying the sales pitch that this is the real Jesus.
You can’t categorize him. You can’t tie a pretty bow around him and wrap him up like a Christmas present. He won’t be conformed to your agenda’s and your opinions, you can’t put him on like the latest trend. Jesus didn’t come to start some mass world-wide revolution in the sense that we think of it. He didn’t have global organization plans or political means to accomplish…..
None of that is what He is about.

He came for us to know him.

He came to look you in the eye, and to rip all the misconceptions you have ever held about yourself; about how good you are, how adequate you are, the things you value. He came to tell you that yes, you are broken, and you don’t know how to love. You cause pain to your brothers, sisters, and yourself daily because of it.
He came to turn everything around and proclaim a kingdom that is different. He came to embody the only person we have to base our definition of love on. He came to show us a father that refused to stop at anything to show us his love.

I don’t want a better version of me. The last thing I need is for someone to prop up my arrogance, my opinions, and my way of demanding that everything I think is right.

I say that he is Jesus who lived and died for me, and I will trade anything to really know him.

He is humble; I still cling to my rights.
He is loving; I seek my own good above others more often than I would ever admit.
He is unafraid of people’s regard of him; I would rather please than cause strife, even if it is what’s needed.
He is offensive; I value my reputation.
He has no pretense; I have questionable motives.
He had empty hands; I grasp tightly.
He loved freely; I am prejudiced.

The Jesus I know is not like me.
He demands that I be like Him.

Christmas is coming soon.......

I happened across this a few minutes ago, turns out advent conspiracy has partnered up with a fair trade organization as well. Anyway, this is the part that really made me grin:


"You're joining people all over the country who believe that when gifts are given, they should always speak of the sort of world that Jesus came to show us - one where the last is first, where the poor are included, the sick are healed, and the captive is set free."

thank you whoever decided in writing this, not to make any sort of separation between the things we do and the person we follow.

The Loveless

I woke up to the rain this morning. It’s been falling in slow and steady sheets through the fields. And I sat on my bed, dimmed daylight sneaking through my window, and strung a few notes out on my mandolin. Small, simple songs for a grey morning. Time has slowed down for me, I’m no longer in this frenzied rush or strain to make things happen or get things done. My life doesn’t consist of finding something to be busy about. And I am starting to realize that the more your life becomes about that sort of thing, the less it becomes about the right sort of thing.
Pause.
Stand still in time and look about you at the turning leaves and the rain puddles scattered through the fields. Sip your coffee in the morning and look at the person across from you until you see them. Look at them until you can find in their eyes the depth and thought and feeling and being of a life lived, pain felt, things experienced, and love learned. And keep looking until you can find residing there the very thing you know resides in yourself. Look until you are mystified by the wonder of it.
And walk the day with that pair of eyes, and with this new heart beating something beautiful, and with your empty-full hands holding out this glowing love to every person you meet.

We are none of us machines that walk the days and nights on this earth. Hard as we try to deceive ourselves into some sort of blind, unfeeling state where cold laws and analysis hold our fascination, it is not who we are. We ache. We have broken hearts, we have feeling hearts, we have eyes that grasp onto beauty, that despise the ugly…..
We have actions and movements formed by others’ actions and movements; we are none of us separate. We are none of us alone.
This life is not defined by a prescribed formula, not by small actions we can fit into a box and mail through the postal service. The reason we want things to look a certain way is so that we can perform our check-mark, achieve our supposed success in living the right way ….and never have to resort to a love that is dangerous and flows through our hearts and situations, a love that asks us to not ignore the stories and lives and plights of others. A love that does not simply acknowledge the suffering of others, but cries out with them, feels part of their pain and agony, and sees part of their world through their eyes. It is a love, that, instead of situation or label or cause, puts a name on a stranger.
We have been quietly converted to the lie of a loveless life where we are slowly strangled by the cords of our many conveniences; stuck in a room where the mass of things, situations, and manipulated circumstances turn from claustrophobic to suffocating.…..all the while hiding from the wonder lingering about us, trailing our paths, clinging to us like the mist on a mountain. Our eyes begin to grow dim in the haze that surrounds us.
So pause.

Someday this will all be ashes blown away. And I have no plans for a futile chase. Sit still for a moment. Let the smile creep and grow from your heart to your mouth to your eyes. And stand there, let go of it all, watch it float away like a thousand bubbles set free on the wind.

Let the story burn into your heart. Let it burn into your eyes until it clouds your view. And look into another pair of eyes; look until you see. Look until it changes you, until the ice thaws. Look until you are no longer a machine. Look until love becomes something more than a function and a prescribed action. Look until you see the blood falling from another pair of hands. Look until you see Jesus.


And walk the day with that pair of eyes, and with this new heart beating something beautiful, and with your empty-full hands holding out this glowing love to every person you meet.