echoes of redemption

In contemporary American Christianity, it’s not unusual to see people demanding the benefits of resurrection before they make the sacrifice of crucifixion.

It’s spirituality that leads to comfort, convenience and success. A mentality that ultimately demands things here on earth that Jesus himself didn’t have.

Scripture teaches that those who follow Christ are fully paid for by his blood – that the eternal price for sin has been paid – and that payment is not based on our own action.

But there also seems to be a thread that runs through all of Scripture challenging followers of God to push past the destructive and oppressive lives sin can cause and live free and holy lives. (Look here and here for a good first step into this theme.)

The problem of course comes when we realize that sin runs far deeper than actions. (The foundation of legalism is sin = action. Which is why micromanaging someone’s actions = success.) Sin is actually woven into the fabric of who I am. I am greedy. I am lustful. I am angry.

So the idea of Jesus as our model really comes home when we read a verse that says, die to yourself. Because, just as Jesus laid down his life for me, I now must lay down my life for him. If greed, lust and anger are woven into the fabric of who I am, some of me will have to die that he may live in me.

Of course, when I really read resurrection for what it is in Scripture, it becomes apparent that we partially taste resurrection on earth (through the freedom that comes with knowing Jesus), but the full benefits of resurrection aren’t unleashed until we enter heaven.

So maybe spirituality that demands the blessings of the resurrection is the equivalent of the prodigal son’s demands of his father – give me the benefits of your life and death now, before the proper time has come. Maybe spirituality that revolves around comfort, convenience and success is presumptuous, arrogant and toxic.

And maybe, if I began giving my life up each and every day I would discover I had deep connection with Jesus, rich relationships with people and an experiential understanding of both the resurrection and the crucifixion of Christ.

Next week starts a year in the life and teachings of Jesus for a group of us – I’m a little excited and a little nervous with a splash of anticipation. But first, a story:

When I started at Apple they asked what I thought of when I saw this:   – I told them creativity.. excellence. And they told me I understood what Apple was all about. The truth was, I was wading in waters that weren’t deep enough to cover my toes when it came to my understanding of what Apple was all about… but I was on the right track. And because they encouraged me, I was motivated to understand Apple at deeper levels – to grow in my knowledge.

We often tell people who Jesus was. We rarely ask how people read Jesus. It’s risky. What if they only understand a little bit? Is it our job to download everything we know about him so they don’t make an “incorrect” assumption? What if what they read in Jesus doesn’t line up with what we read in Jesus? Are they wrong? Are we wrong?

Then general lack of open conversation about Jesus may be why so few people understand who he really is.

He is a conundrum in so many ways. Jesus lived under one of the most oppressive, anti-biblical governments of all time, yet he chose not to engage politically (radically unlike the religious/political movement in America). Jesus demonstrated extreme freedom in his own personal life (his first miracle was making alcohol for a party), yet he followed every law of the Hebrew Scriptures. Jesus sat alone with women (at the well…), enjoyed the benefits of illegitimate and oppressive business (lavish dinners with tax collectors) and he didn’t seem to condemn anyone based off their actions (unless they were religious people who showed no mercy or love).

So how do you read Jesus?

Does he fit into a nice neat box? Does he play by the rules you’ve been told to play by? Does he challenge you?

My prayer is that after a year of reading Jesus, I’ll understand a little more – and be challenged to experience living like him a little more. That I’ll be open to  stretching my views of him as I wade deeper into his life. That I would open up into conversation with people who have experienced the Christ in different ways than I have.

And as I watch Jesus bring heaven to earth, that what I’m reading would turn into reality in my life.

I’m blogging right now from the foot of my wife’s hospital bed.

Nothing too serious, and normally it would just be considered just a massive stomach bug, but when you’re 22 weeks pregnant with your first child, it’s a massive stomach but that requires medical attention.

This is definitely not a good thing, but my understanding of faith when bad things happen has changed over the past few years.

Growing up in church, I pretty much understood from the Christian culture that it was best to pray for God to keep us healthy, safe and blessed. When any of these things are compromised, it’s okay to “slip” a little in your faith. To vent in frustration about your life. To be disappointed in God for “letting this” happen. Etc.

Of course, this way of understanding God is why so many people look at those of us that follow him and laugh.

It’s nonsense that the all-knowing, all-powerful creator of the universe’s job is to make my life more convenient by appeasing my every wish and desire. He’s got to be up to something bigger than me in this world – otherwise he is way too small and I have made myself out to be way too big of a deal.

Central to the story of following this God is the change we go through that allows us to live as different people in the good times and the bad. And honestly, I don’t have this worked out yet. But I think that may have been what Paul had in mind when he wrote, continue to work out your own salvation.

God had not let us down because Emily was violently ill. After all, he had provided health insurance, a good hospital, medical staff who know what they’re doing and all the strength we needed to show the hope our faith brings us in the good times and the bad.

When we arrived at the hospital today, we were laughing. Laughing about the green bicycle flag that was strapped to the wheel chair I was rolling Emily through the parking lot and hospital in. Laughing at how there is no cool way to wear a hospital gown. Laughing because we had peace. And hope.

P.S. A little Phenergan and a bag of Lactated Ringers and Em is well hydrated, resting and doing better.