Dancing into the Kingdom (Jessup style)
Sometimes, I don’t believe in Jesus.
In the Sermon on the Mount, or what Brian McLaren calls his ‘Kingdom Manifesto’, Jesus lays out a pretty detailed example of what it looks like to follow him and to live in his Kingdom. And I don’t live like that.
Every day I make decisions. I choose what clothes I’m going to wear, what I’m going to eat, and how I’m going to treat people. I choose to spend my time and energy on things that matter like relationships, learning, and God, or on things that don’t matter like video games, clothes, or money. With every choice I make, I’m making a statement of belief. I’m either choosing to believe in Jesus, his Kingdom, his values, and his life, or in the world, its values and toys and empires.
More often than not, I choose the world.
I have no faith, and no need of faith–I have my bank accounts and money for that. I don’t love my enemies…sometimes I don’t even love my friends. I often judge others by far steeper standards than I judge myself. I don’t give my clothes away to the ones who need them very often, and I seldom go above and beyond any requests made of me unless somebody else is watching. Too quickly do I look for excuses to continue my life as is, unaltered, comfortable and consistent…and too quickly do those excuses present themselves. I’m usually more concerned about my life and my things than I am about anything or anyone else, and I tend to pass every choice I make through that filter. And something tells me that you’re not any different.
But that doesn’t really matter, because I am not defined by any of those things. They have all lost their power. You see, I am salt. I have inside of me a light that cannot be hidden, no matter how hard I try to snuff it out. After he shows us what his Kingdom looks like and who will be there, Jesus tells all of the people listening that they are the ‘salt of the earth’ and the ‘light of the world’. He doesn’t say “if you follow my teachings you are the salt of the earth”; he says simply, “you are the salt of the Earth”. He doesn’t tell us that we’re only the light of the world if we believe in him or do loving things. He says “you are the light of the world”. Jesus was stating fact. That is who we are. As human beings, we bear the image of God. We are beautiful. We are loved creations who can reveal the “God-flavors” of the earth we’re living on. And that doesn’t change, whether I believe it or not.
From here, Jesus gives us a warning. He tells us that salt that isn’t salty is useless, and that light that doesn’t illuminate dark places doesn’t do much good. And that’s where belief comes in. Do I believe that Jesus and his Kingdom are the source of real life, and life to the full? Do I believe that Love is the answer to all of the problems I face, even when everything I know is saying something different? In my head, I certainly do. In my heart and through my actions, I don’t as often as I should or could or want to. But that doesn’t change who I am and what I was created for. And that doesn’t change the fact that Love is the answer to everything. And there is nothing I can do about that, save come along for the ride…which is pretty liberating (not to mention, fun).
I’m a pretty awkward person, and a terrible dancer. Last night we had our ‘Spring Formal’, and this event managed to bring out both of those qualities. The food was great, the music was wonderful, and for the first half hour or 45 minutes nobody danced. We all sort of just stood around, making small talk and felling awkward. And then we had a lesson in swing dancing from some awesome instructors. Just like that, the ice was broken, the shoes came off, and raucous revelry became the name of the game. As soon as I learned how to do a couple swing moves and move my feet to the rhythm (or somewhat close to the rhythm) of the songs, I cut loose with no hesitation whatsoever. And the rest of the night was a super fun…for me at least. After we broke through the beginning awkwardness and confusion and discovered what we were really there for, nothing could dampen our spirits or get in the way of us having a good time. The music didn’t change, I didn’t become a better dancer or less socially awkward, and my partner was the same. But I understood that I was there to have fun. To dance. I woke up to the reality of where I was, and once that happened many toes were broken, I made a fool of myself, and I had a stinking blast in the process.
What if God’s Kingdom is the same way? We’re here, living. We are image-bearers of God, with unlimited potential. We are salt of the earth, light of the world. We simply have to break through the awkwardness and confusion, and stumble our way through the first couple steps, and then dance like there’s no tomorrow. The best part is that God’s our partner, whether we like it or not.
Jesus, teach me how to dance…and stumble along with me while I’m learning. Thank you for loving me and believing in me, whether I return the favor or not. Help me do the former more often than the latter, for the sake of everyone.
Uncategorized | Comment (1)Thinking and talking
We do a couple things really well at Jessup; we think a lot, and we talk about it. Sometimes we debate. Sometimes we discuss. Sometimes we dialogue. Sometimes we just plain argue. Whatever you choose to call it, however, the fact remains that most of my time and energy here has been spent either thinking or talking. Over the past three or four months, I’m sure that I’ve discussed more theology and literature and philosophy than ever before. I’m definitely learning new things up here every day, and my personal opinions and thoughts are always growing and expanding. And that’s a good thing. In fact, I think that what’s happening here at Jessup is reflective of the American Evangelical church as a whole. We evangelicals really like to think, talk, and argue. It’s part of our identity, and it’s definitely a fun way to pass the time and to give our selves meaning and importance, two things which I think are really crucial to living a good life.
But what if there’s more? What if we’re missing out on some stuff? Some of God’s kingdom? What if we’re missing out on part of life?
I’m really embarrassed about something. Almost every time I sit through a sermon in church, I get bored. And it’s getting worse. Back in the old days, it’d be alright. I’d go to church, sing the songs and be super into it, and then maybe just doze off around the 33rd minute or so of the pastor’s lecture, only to catch myself pretty quick and force myself to listen and stay awake for the rest of the time. Or I’d listen for a while, check out to count the celling tiles for a bit, maybe draw some alien attacks and super-hero battles in my moleskin, and then listen again for a while. But not so, anymore. It’s bad. As soon as the pastor steps up to the podium, I find myself reaching for my bible or notebook. Not to follow along or underline things or take notes, but to distract myself. I can’t even stick with most speakers or teachers through the first ten minutes these days. And it bums me out! Surely, I’m missing out on whatever wisdom or knowledge these guys have to tell me. Plus, it’s just a jerk thing to do. These people are taking time out of their day to give a message that they obviously think is pretty important. And I repay them by not listening. Horrible. But as I think about more and more, I’m faced with the fact that I’m just not interested in what they’re saying.
Quite frankly, I’m just sick and tired of thinking, listening, and talking. And that sort of makes me feel bad, but it’s true. I’ve just had enough. I know why I’m not a Calvinist, and I know what I think about the Bible and inerrancy and the Emergent church, and I know what I think about Jesus being God. I know that I don’t believe in literal six day creation, and I know what I think about heaven and hell, and the reality of both of those places. I know that I agree with N.T. Wright and Francis Chan and Jesus on most things, and that I disagree with Mark Driscoll a lot. But as I go deeper and deeper into this list, I’m hit with something pretty huge.
It doesn’t really matter.
I’m missing the point.
We do another thing pretty well here at Jessup. We’re constantly giving our students opportunities to serve. Last Saturday, I went down to one of the biggest mega-churches in the city to help out some homeless people with a couple of other students. We teamed up with around 30 other volunteers from the church and went down-town to hand out food, clothes, and hope to some of the poorest of the poor. And it was amazing. For the first time in a while, I was able to look into the eyes of the people who Jesus says will inherit his kingdom. And I hadn’t realized how much I’ve missed that. Because it’s life-giving.
Earlier today, I got to go hang out with some of my Jr. High friends during their lunch period up in Olivehurst and just talk about life and rain and relationships and hurt and normal things. And it was refreshing. Because it was life-giving.
Sometimes, in the midst of all this knowledge (and there’s quite a bit of that floating around here at WJU), I think we can miss something. And that something is life. Jesus says that we’re not going to find real life unless we give our current ones away, and I struggle with putting that into action while I’m busy pontificating and refining my theological opinions and finding my identity in that. To be sure, knowledge is fun and important and I love it (indeed, I’m too much of a nerd for anybody to argue otherwise!). But that’s not all there is. And there’s a kind of life that you can only get from living with and loving your brothers and sisters. And that’s the kind of life I’m interested in right now…the kind I’m drawn to. It’s the kind of life that is irresistible, if we do it right. The kind that we were created to have. The kind that’s right. There comes a point when words are shallow…when ideas and doctrines no longer suffice as explanations for the reality we are experiencing and the God we are discovering. And that’s okay. Because we weren’t created for words or ideas or doctrines or religions. We were created for life–and while life includes those things, it’s certainly not limited to them. Lucky for us, God can’t be limited, and he has given us the kind of life we need. May we wake up to that, and look outside our boxes.
Uncategorized | Comments (2)