You know the question – we all do. It’s the answer that we fear; that stymies us; that we keep denying.
Jesus’ disciples were challenged by ”the” question, up close and personal, but skipped merrily through their lives believing they belonged to an exclusive “Jesus Club”. They would post selfies with Jesus and then boast to their friends on Facebook.
They couldn’t wait for their ten year high school reunion so they could counter the negative comments in their senior year book, “most likely to end up in jail” or “most likely to become a TV repairman living in their mother’s basement.” I think that was about James or John because their mother boldly approached Jesus to ask him to get them both out of her hair! (Mark 10:35-45)
I imagine Jesus had to pose that all important question to them constantly just to pull them back to reality, “Come on, guys. AGAIN…”Who Am I?”
It wasn’t just the disciples, everyone of us through the centuries has been challenged by that question which cannot be answered by words, but rather, by the very act of our day-to-day living. And in our arrogance we rarely get it right.
Recall that Jesus’ own brothers (yes, he had some, and sisters too, get over it) often mocked and ridiculed him in front of others, “For even his own brothers did not believe in him.” (John 7:2-9)
A bit of sibling rivalry? Sure. Not surprising as he was the only one who never disobeyed or sinned. His brothers had to be jealous of that and how his admiring followers flocked to him wherever he went.
John Dominic Crossan gives us some interesting insight into the thinking of the day:
“…if you asked anyone in the Mediterranean world at the time of Jesus, “Who’s the Son of God, the Lord, the redeemer, the savior of the world?” everyone would’ve known immediately who you were talking about, and it sure wouldn’t have been Jesus.—it would have been Caesar Augustus.”https://bustedhalo.com/features/busted-john-dominic-crossan
That’s right and Caesar loved it. It seemed like a game to him. He was a master of propaganda and deceit and knew how to manipulate everyone from the powerful to the lowliest pheasant. Because he was so skilled at the deception, even though he was actually a dictator, everyone loved him. Go figure.
Perhaps this understanding of everyone’s belief that Caesar Augustus was the Son of God made him a hard act for Jesus to follow. Who knows?
But we know the feeling of being “less than”. Right? Stay with me here.
The title of my blog, “Passion, Purpose, and Poopyheads” defines the struggles I have had since I first accepted that I was actually gifted with passion and purpose –as we all are. The problem has always been the “poopyheads” that keep setting up roadblocks for me to stumble over. And isn’t that what we all deal with when we pose the “who do you say I am” question back to God: That incessant question.
We yearn for the answer. It’s our deepest spiritual longing. “Who am I to you, Lord?” But, his answer is always drown out by the voices of those who, for years, have run roughshod over our hearts and muddied the pure waters of God’s immovable, unchangeable, immense love for us. He calls each one of us his beloved, but we don’t believe it. Instead, we believe the lies of those who are just as broken as we are.
Picture this (and don’t pretend you have never thought this): You go to a new doctor and are ushered into his nurse’s station as she takes all your vital signs then shoves you up on a scale. All the while you can’t help but notice that she is obviously struggling with her own health issues. Then, you sit for an eternity waiting for the doctor who finally walks into the room reeking of cigarette smoke and finishing up the last bite of a McDonalds Big Mac – his lunch (gag me!). Will you trust anything he advises to keep you healthy when he clearly doesn’t follow that advice himself? Do you stay or run like hell? You decide for yourself, but I’m already in my car.
Now, let’s put that scenario into the context of this discussion of just who it is that Jesus says we are. Even though he tells us the same thing over and over and over, we choose to give full authority to the thoughts of others who are – well – screwed up. Mostly. Like us.
God, the magnificent Creator of all things has set before each of us his commitments – not commandments – an important distinction here.
He has committed to never leave us no matter what twists or turns we take on the journey. He has given us everything we need for a life not laid out before us like a scavenger hunt, though we seem to prefer that. Then, we get tripped up every time we encounter any obstacles.
We just sleepwalk through this one precious life we have been given without much thought to what we’re supposed to be doing here.
But, alas, it’s January 1, 2022. A new year.
I’m going to speak for myself now. You’re welcome to tag along….
Let’s call it:
An ode to new beginnings that tell us endings are never final if you’re still breathing.
Last year was, hands down, one of my worst years ever, with Covid relegated to last place on my list of crappy moments. After the loss of my husband, I had to face the truth of a heart condition that I chose to ignore for years. Until it reared up and took a huge bite out of my…denial.
Both these profound life events were instrumental in creating my new reality: At my age, I am starting over in an uncertain and unfamiliar place.
For the entire seventy-three years of my life I have never known what it’s like to be the creator of my own destiny. Others would always butt in with unsolicited advice and make huge messes in my life like the bratty kid who knocks down all your Legos so you have to start over! Likewise, I now have no one else to blame if I fail to follow that destiny.
How often have I thought God abandoned me because a path I took seemed like a dead-end? Only to discover it offered a critical lesson that I needed to learn before I could move on. If I could just become more self-aware and present to the steps I have taken, and will continue to take, it will be clear how they fit into my life’s purpose. I’m working on that.
How many times during the Christmas season have I hear the words, “Emmanuel – God with us” and not understood that that does not mean God has taken the wheel? He is still with us; still loving on us – but from the passenger seat.
I remember when my kids were learning to drive. That imaginary brake on my side of the car never worked! And throwing my hands up on the dashboard didn’t alter the trajectory or the speed of the car. God doesn’t work like that. He will not grab the wheel to redirect us if we mess up, and he will not bail on us no matter how out-of-control we become. He waits for our return to him – sadly, expectantly, – but patiently, like the father of the prodigal son. The choice is ours alone.
I have no idea what’s around the next corner for me and, frankly, I don’t need to know. I only know this: God is always with me. He is by my side. He is my biggest cheerleader. He forgives my stupidity and delights in giving me second chances. Yeah me!
At the end of the day, hopefully, he will welcome me home into his very heart where I will hear those immortal words, “Pretty well done, Linda. Not bad, for a messy human.”
Pretty well done indeed – I’ll take it!