Road Trip

CraigsList ™ is totally, totally awesome. It’s a free online version of local classifieds. It’s a searchable database of advertisements for pretty much anything you could ever want (to throw away). And it’s free?! And local?! Did I mention that it’s awesome?! There’s just one real drawback.

There’s this sort of unspoken code of ethics connected to Craigslist. No checks. Just cash. Delivery of goods is a privilege. “You haul” is the norm. And the stinger: first come, first served. Just because you make contact with the seller doesn’t necessarily entitle you to first claim. If you can’t get there to purchase or take the item in question, it’s still for sale. And in some instances, if you're not quick about it, you may make the drive to get something and get there only to discover that it’s not there anymore.

This morning, as I read more of Jesus’ life, death and resurrection in Luke’s careful study, I had to wonder if Jesus ever felt that way.

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Jesus and his fellow road-trippers were pretty much always on the move. Jesus says of himself that he “has nowhere to lay his head.” They’re always walking someplace, going from this town to that town. And since at least a third of his little tribe were fishermen, they went by boat, too.

Luke tells of one trip they took across the “lake” where the weather almost got the best of these professional boaters. These master sailors were afraid for their lives while Jesus, the carpenter, is sawing logs in the bottom of the boat. So they wake him, terrified, to alert him of their imminent doom, only to watch, jaws gaping, as he yells to the wind to be calm. And it does.

“Who IS this? Who commands the wind and it obeys?!” they ask each other, incredulous.

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So they land, finally, on the other side of the lake only to be greeted by a freakshow of a man. I can only hope it was still day time when they stepped foot on the shore, because the welcoming committee came out to greet them acting like Marilyn Manson, but even nakeder. And possibly more maniacal. And his opening line? “What do you want with me, Jesus? Son of the Most High God?!”

So the guys who are sharing their spam, and taking turns at the water fountain with Jesus? Not sure who he really is. Freakshow? Seems pretty sure about who Jesus is. Interesting.

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Anyway, on with the story. Jesus cures this man, casting the whole Queen's Navy of demons out of him and, fittingly, into a herd of hogs (an animal the Jews scorned as unclean by Divine proclamation). When the herd managers return with townspeople to demonstrate that it’s NOT THEIR FAULT (the pigs, upon being possessed, promptly took to the lake and drowned themselves), the townspeople saw Marilyn acting more like Mr. Rogers than Mr. Hyde, looked at the floating pigs, and told Jesus to take his show back out on the road.

So you know what he did? Got back into the boat and went home.

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There’s a book I read several years ago that completely altered my perspective on more than a couple of things in my faith-life. It’s called Permission Evangelism by Michael Simpson, and it’s an apt title. But it’s not really about evangelism, is it Michael? It’s about the Holy Spirit. Because the Holy Spirit delivers the heart of the broken and rebellious to a place where they can kneel before God and be fixed. And sometimes the heart God wants is simply not ready. God comes to the door, in the person of the Holy Spirit, on behalf of the man Jesus, and there’s nothing to see. God won’t force it. He may come back later. But for now, He just gets back in the boat.

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I guess you could say that I’m fascinated by how Jesus’ agenda works. While he’s going places, he’s constantly interrupted, redirected, misappropriated, reappropriated and in general lives life subject to the needs that surround him. He’s been invited to dinner, invited to sickrooms, invited to funerals, invited to speak, and invited to leave. He’s incredibly open to invitations. Even invitations to beat it. I think my take away is that I need to perhaps accept rejection differently. Maybe I shouldn’t get so bent when people just aren’t that interested. Maybe their acceptance or rejection of me, or whatever I’m trying to offer doesn’t define my success or failure. Maybe it’s alright sometimes to just get back in the boat.

Who Am I?

Who Am I?

I re-read a story recorded in a historical account of Jesus’ life, death and resurrection known commonly referred to as Luke’s gospel. I had read it earlier this week, and when I sat down this morning to read, it was still there- so I went ahead and read it again.

Jesus has been invited to dine with one of the many Pharisees. Jesus, accepting the invitation goes to the Pharisees house, and while they are eating, a woman, known to be a prostitute, comes and interrupts their meal, crying and carrying on, and anointing Jesus’ feet with her tears, and then wiping them dry with her hair.

The Pharisee, “Jonah” let’s call him, sees and recognizes the woman at Jesus’ feet, and is more than a little perturbed to see this teacher, this prophet, this man who claims to be the Son of God, allowing himself to be defiled by the touch of an unclean person. “Surely, were this man a prophet of God, were He the SON OF GOD, this woman’s uncleanness would be offensive to God’s Holiness!”

In Joe’s mind, the Holiness of God, and the holy ground He stood upon, absolutely sacrosanct. Non-debatable. People had been struck by fire, swallowed by the earth, and just plain fallen to the ground dead because they had defiled God’s presence somehow with corruption, wrongdoing, or sin.

Jesus tells a story to his listeners then, of a money-lender who has two clients about to default on their respective loans. One of them owes 500 denarii, and the other owes only 50. The lender has compassion on them both, and forgives the loans. “When forgiven,” Jesus asks, “which of them will love the lender more?” It’s obvious, isn’t it? “The one who is forgiven much will love much, and he who has been forgiven little, loves little,” Jesus answers.

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Earlier this week, when I read this story the first time, my thoughts were of Jesus, and how I, in contrast, in an attempt to keep my ways righteous, have tended to isolate myself from people or things that are opposed to what I perceive as “right” or “God-honoring.” And how Jesus was secure enough in the righteousness of God to be unafraid. To boldly reach out to someone who was in need of him, unafraid of how their ways or ideas or habits might disrupt his own.

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A good friend of mine has a special gift for putting you, as a listener, into the scene of the Bible. When he tells a story from the Bible, he describes it as if we were both standing there, one level removed from the central characters- supporting cast, or extras in the scene.

So I imagined myself there, around the table, watching this social train-wreck as it unfolds, horribly awkward, and unstoppable, as this whore walks into the preacher’s dining room uninvited, and unwelcome, and starts crying, all the while coming closer and closer to the guest of honor.

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Who am I? As Jesus tells the story, and I listen to him, who am I? Am I the one who has been forgiven little? And therefore, likely loves little? Me with my isolationist, puritanical rules, stubbornness... is that me? But when I am alone, I know my secrets. I know my terrible moments, my inward thoughts, and even the things I’ve dared to say out loud. I know my boasting and my pride. I feel like I’ve been forgiven an awful lot. So... where’s the love? Where’s the compassion, grace, and gentleness, which I’ve been so graciously shown?

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So this morning, my prayer was short. “God, if I have been forgiven little, thank you for keeping me in your presence, in your will, on your path. Please increase my love for people. But God, if indeed, I have been forgiven a great deal- show me the darkness of my inclination, so that I may go forward feeling a greater depth of gratitude. Make me more like your version of me.”

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