Of course we never come right out and say that Jesus is my possession, but if we're honest with ourselves, we often think it. How do I come to this conclusion? Well, I think it is a mixture of careless language, which isn't really all that surprising or disturbing, but when coupled with selfish consumeristic living, it is a devilish combination.
I'll explain. We use phrases like, "my Jesus," "Jesus is mine," "my God." Now nothing is fundamentally wrong with personalizing the Divine-human connection in relation to yourself. However, it is wrong in the next breath to continue in the same vein to speak about "my salvation," "my blessings," "my spiritual gifts," my...my...my. This is what is starting to catch wind of what I'm pointing at. Even I think "my Jesus" is on the cusp of theological naughtiness. It can be construed of having a tone of acting as if one has ownership of the Divine. This is "my Jesus." Get your own Jesus teddy bear, because you can't have mine. This is "my Jesus" that I am possessive of that I hug and squeeze as mine.
Well, perhaps I have made light of this language and have taken it to an absurd extreme. But still, I think there is some truth in what I'm saying. Jesus is mine, and salvation is mine. Christianity gives me stuff, and that fits into my paradigm of a consumeristic American society. I get heaven and I get Jesus out of the deal. This leaves the flip side of the coin by the wayside. What does Jesus get from this one way business transaction. Where is the two way street? Is Jesus really satisfied being your trinket on your collectibles shelf?
If we act like Jesus is a mine, and we barrel aimlessly down a one-way Christian street that only consists of me, myself, and I, I will get bulldozed by the truth sooner or later. Once the demands of Jesus enter the discussion in a powerful way then Jesus gets accused of legalism. Oh wait, that's not how the story goes. Jesus isn't accused of legalism, we just never let Him speak openly on anything of real depth and self-sacrifice. The American church silences His voice and reinterprets the text instead, muffling his voice.
The question boils down coherently to the driving question underlying this whole issue, "Jesus is mine, but am I His?" Jesus is my Savior, but am I His servant? Once again, "Jesus is mine, but am I His?" If we border thinking that Jesus is my possession, do we ever get to the point where we ask, "am I His possession?"
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Sunday, December 9, 2007
The Human as Habits
When we ask the fundamental question, "Who am I?"
We are not our name, we are not our car, we are not the tag on our sheet. The movie "Fight Club" plays with this idea, and it's ultimately rooted in questions that existentialist philosophers ask. Names, possessions and symbols depict and articulate something, but they do not address the question, "who we are." I am currently toying with the notion that who we are is a compilation of our habits.
Who I am is a composition of my habits which I have created. Habitual routines comprise a large percentage of our day, so there may be not better analysis of who I am then to say I am a conglomerate of the multiple habit forming patterns that I have grooved into myself. Who I am exhibits itself in how I spend my time. And how I spend my time is large based on my habits. Ergo, I am a pattern of habits reinforcing "Nick's" being and existence each and every day by continually exerting once again the same habitual patterns.
The problem obviously is that as a Christian I am now told to throw off the old pattern and habits of life of my old self, and to put on the new found in Messiah Jesus. Therefore, pursuit of Christianity entails a vigorous pursuit of habit breaking and habit making. How well I do at following Jesus the Servant is answered by how well I am able to tear away from the clutches of the sinful habits of my past, and how powerfully I can exert my will to recreate myself through the power of prayer.
We are not our name, we are not our car, we are not the tag on our sheet. The movie "Fight Club" plays with this idea, and it's ultimately rooted in questions that existentialist philosophers ask. Names, possessions and symbols depict and articulate something, but they do not address the question, "who we are." I am currently toying with the notion that who we are is a compilation of our habits.
Who I am is a composition of my habits which I have created. Habitual routines comprise a large percentage of our day, so there may be not better analysis of who I am then to say I am a conglomerate of the multiple habit forming patterns that I have grooved into myself. Who I am exhibits itself in how I spend my time. And how I spend my time is large based on my habits. Ergo, I am a pattern of habits reinforcing "Nick's" being and existence each and every day by continually exerting once again the same habitual patterns.
The problem obviously is that as a Christian I am now told to throw off the old pattern and habits of life of my old self, and to put on the new found in Messiah Jesus. Therefore, pursuit of Christianity entails a vigorous pursuit of habit breaking and habit making. How well I do at following Jesus the Servant is answered by how well I am able to tear away from the clutches of the sinful habits of my past, and how powerfully I can exert my will to recreate myself through the power of prayer.
Thursday, December 6, 2007
The missing fruit of my spirit
Fight Club says the following about what to do in order to gain focus.
"The ability to let that which does not matter truly slide." -Fight Club
As I think about the fruits of the Holy Spirit, I would do well to teach myself the fruit which deals most directly with battling oneself. That fruit is discipline. To gain self-discipline I grow increasingly more convinced that it means defeating one's self. Subdue the flesh, so the Holy Spirit can reign. Discipline has a sister, and her name is focus. Self-discipline is a fruit of the Holy Spirit, unfortunately it gets drowned out by the familiar things such as love.
I teach myself again today to let that which does not matter truly slide. To focus once again on that which does matter, and throw myself wholeheartedly into the purpose of my existence. Self-discipline and focus, two things not often preached, but two messages I need to daily preach to myself. May I count all things rubbish, so that I might gain Christ.
"The ability to let that which does not matter truly slide." -Fight Club
As I think about the fruits of the Holy Spirit, I would do well to teach myself the fruit which deals most directly with battling oneself. That fruit is discipline. To gain self-discipline I grow increasingly more convinced that it means defeating one's self. Subdue the flesh, so the Holy Spirit can reign. Discipline has a sister, and her name is focus. Self-discipline is a fruit of the Holy Spirit, unfortunately it gets drowned out by the familiar things such as love.
I teach myself again today to let that which does not matter truly slide. To focus once again on that which does matter, and throw myself wholeheartedly into the purpose of my existence. Self-discipline and focus, two things not often preached, but two messages I need to daily preach to myself. May I count all things rubbish, so that I might gain Christ.
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