I have read my Bible many times. Maybe you have too. But that doesn’t mean much. Words. Assembled and set forth, by men of God conveying the Word of God. One can read them but never live them, live them but never truly comprehend them, comprehend them but not really believe them. Some of you were so utterly convicted in your first reading of the Bible as to be a forceful convert for life. Me? I approached it in college first, as an act of academic requirement, then later in life philosophically, so as to see how it “measured up” to my studies in both Buddhism and Taoism.
Then one day my father died and suddenly I reached out to my Bible as a life preserver, and there I found my savior, but, but, but…that doesn’t mean I absorbed the Word as I humbly believe it was intended, namely as a catalyst for life as it was meant to be lived; on purpose, for others, with a selfless love that would testify for itself.
In the past three years I have wrestled with writing a manuscript about a man seeking God. Few have seen it but those that have often offered up the notion that it was partly, if not completely, autobiographical. I knew better. My main character, broken as he is, is seeking God with a much purer heart than I have ever brought to the table. As a result the entire process has been an agonizing ordeal. One cannot type words of hope with the fingers of a skeptic, and all too often those fingers were writing scenes that were pointing directly back at me.
I think I have boiled it down though, mostly anyways. It truly is no more complicated than a man from Galilee who did all he could to remind us to quit making the whole thing out to be more than it is. Life is meant to be lived, as purely as possible, with love and forgiveness as the core to a holistic approach to life that takes in the moments of each day and cherishes them. It’s not about being a “Soldier of God” or a “Man With A Mission”, it’s about being saved and saving. Salvation is not a war and it is not a rescue. It is an event, of which any of us may play a part or not.
I have told the guys in my men’s group that there are times when I really, really believe that I have “gotten” it. I recognize when it's happening because – and I mean this – EVERYTHING starts moving in slow motion. As a result things become more visible; the wayward glance of sorrow when the customer service smile fades from the barrista's face at Starbucks, the sweat on the brow of the gardener at work who just wants someone to listen about how tough a seventy hour week is, the tiny voice of my daughter as she grows more confident in her thoughts and ideas.
Jesus demanded us to notice. Just notice…how magical and beautiful and insanely delicious this life is. We get the scares and reminders from time to time, when we are lost, to stay on track. But I can tell you that for me it comes down to this: my son walks, and my daughter talks, and my wife loves me, I have friends and family who stand beside me, and a God who refuses to let go of me.
The rest? The rest is subterfuge.
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