Friday, July 25, 2008

In Awe of the One Who Gave It All

This morning started like any other morning that had come before it, well, perhaps a bit happier. I had just gotten back from business travel in upstate NY and was more than eager to get back into the swing of things, back in my favorite place on the globe: Fredericksburg, Virginia. Now I know I will get some chuckles for this one because so many of my friends have spent their whole lives trying to pry themselves away from it, but I have a certain fondness for the tree and suburb filled chunk of dirt. This probably stems from a tendency to gravitate toward the familiar.

So, to continue in my well worn pattern, I wake up in the morning and read my Bible. I start to flip back to the place where I had left off (Ephesians 4, for those curious) on my quest to read the New Testament by the start of August, and I realize something. I have been spending too much time with Paul. I miss Jesus.

Now, just to make it clear, I am well aware that I was no further away, this morning, from Christ himself from the moment of my salvation, to the heights of the life defining mountaintop experiences throughout my life, but after reading so much good scripture about Jesus' death and resurrection, I really wanted to hear something from Jesus himself (this in and of itself testifies to the worth of Paul's writings). So I did what anyone who wants to find some red letters, and wants to find them fast, does: I flipped to Matthew and landed on chapter 13.

Now, do I believe that the most accurate way to get what God wants you to know is through "random" bible page flipping? Not a chance (of course, true random chance does not exist in this universe, but that's a discussion for another time) . If God spoke purely though "chance" or arbitrary page flipping, I would carry a set of Boggle dice in my pocket to make decisions. But I am sane, and I know that we come to God on His terms, not ours, so I don't. But that does not mean, that sometimes, God does not speak to us though means that seem "chance like" upon first inspection.

Here is what I flipped to:
He who has ears, let him hear. "The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which a man found and covered up. Then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field.

Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls, who, on finding one pearl of great value, went and sold all that he had and bought it.

After the immediate feelings of the sheer happiness (no I am not trying to be overly fakey spiritual about this, I am telling the truth) of hearing the words of the immortal creator in human flesh, I had realised something. "I think I've been getting this passage wrong for awhile!". Every time I read a passage again, I usually will notice something else will stand out since last reading, but this was different, and it wa something that helped me immensely, and you will see why as I explain:

In previous readings I had understood the one to find the treasure and the field to be the believer, the one who sells it all to gain the kingdom of God. But, presently, I am pretty sure that I was wrong before, and that Christ was talking about himself in this instance. Now, would it be good for a person "sell it all" and gain the kingdom of God, ideally? Yes.

But that would be great, if it was not impossible.

Because I have nothing.

I started with nothing.

All of my work to amass worth of my own even to transfer to God's cause will amount to no more than nothing. Even the work that I do for the kingdom is not mine to give, but is done in His name, meaning I am permitted to do the work while the glory of the job completely bypasses myself and goes directly to God.

Christ is not teling us what to do in this passage (Matthew 13), He is simply giving us the current state of things, telling us how things are (Christ does command us to follow Him in certain ways, but this passage does not appear to be one of these). And this becomes fairly clear when the verses in question are not removed from the context ofthe other paravles in this passage: the sower, the wheat and the tares, the mustard seed and the dividing of the fish. (We are clearly not the sifters or the fish sorters)

Now the reason that I am sharing this with you: I believe that we can get so caught up in trying to do things that only God can do properly, that we miss the point, that we cannot do this on our own, we cannot buy His favor, or earn His fondness. The works will naturally (new-naturally, that is) come out in us through the Holy Spirit's changing work in us, but that is all Him and in no way ours.

I want to remind you that He found us. In the dirt. From clam's mouth in the mucky part of the shallows. And that we are His treasure and He hold's us very dearly. Dearly enough to give up what was entitled to Him and take on what He did not deserve.

I think that sometimes, it is easy for a Christian to forget that He loves us so much.

2 comments:

0rangey said...

now I'm not sure how I managed to not see that for my entire life.

Dan Bruno said...

Sometimes the spiritual message seems chance-like because of the utter suddeness of it. You are right. We are flesh, we are blood, but we are also spirit. I agree that what we do is not necessarily ours because we do it in God's name.

I do offer this counterpoint. And it is going to seem like a long shot.

Bourdieu (the sociologist, not the closely spelled red wine) talks of three types of capital: economic, cultural, and social. The economic is the money. Simple concept. The cultural is the sum of what we have learned. Again, duh. The social is the extent of our networks and how much community power those networks give us. Again, duh. Not difficult concepts.

What about spiritual capital? Could the treasure be the things we do to strengthen our spirit (i.e. reading the Bible, attending services, witnessing, ministering in any capacity)? If that is the case, these things, done in God's name, are in fact ours. They are our attempt at bringing God's kingdom that much closer to Earth. Can it be quantified? No. Is the end goal ours? No. If we have less than Ned Flanders, do we go to a less heavenly heaven? No. What we do get is what I like to call spiritual pride.

Gasp. I used one of the seven deadly sins in a sentence about spiritual health; however, my point refers to the pride in one's work that come sin healthy doses, not sinful gobs.

Think of Jesus' words about his father's house. He is, in all human terms, bragging about his father. Is that sinful? No. He is proud of his father in a healthy, loving, and growth-inspirign way. He seeks his father's favor through being his emissary, and because of his perfect, sinless life, he became our model. Are Jesus' accomplishment solely theprovince of God? No.

An old Sunday school teacher who was a Fellowship of Christian Athletes member summed it up like this:

"Everything you do is for an audience of one."

I do the things I do in His name for his glory because He loves me and I love Him in return. As a result, whenever I accomplish one of these deeds, something in me feels stronger, more healthy, almost glowing (like the suitcase in "Pulp Fiction"). I have built myself up, the feeling of worth in God's eyes empowering. The acts are His to have, and we do receive a bit of growth in return.

I told you it would be convoluted, and probably flawed (as are all mortal thoughts), but I thought I would try and give you a counterpoint to bounce from.