Common Things?

Yesterday I mentioned this organization called Project Healing Waters. In short, it is a privately funded organization that aims to care for wounded soldiers by giving them an opportunity to fish. A retired Navy Captain started this program in an attempt to care for those around him who had suffered loss. I mentioned, too, that one of the men on this video was a former high school lacrosse teammate of mine. This video “stirred up” all sorts of stuff within me.

We’ve been saying for the past few weeks that historic Christianity has always asserted that Jesus of Nazareth was both fully God and fully man. Our series the past few weeks have focused on the human-side of his person. We’ve asked the question, “What does Jesus, by being human, tell us about what it means to be human?” The angle that we have taken in all of this was through the 5 senses.

Jesus ate food and, into ways that I am just beginning to tap, this seems highly significant for us. Sadly, some parts of the Christian church have left Jesus floating on clouds, throwing out platitudes to those who might listen, and shooting lazers out of his fingers at those who do not. And we have done this to a fault. But there is something about “seeing” him eat that puts him back on the soil. It seems to me, then, that Jesus is telling us something about being human, something about what being human is all about.

If Jesus was the human par excellence (and I believe he was), then he shows us what is normative about being human. And since Jesus ate, he seems to be showing us that to eat is good and proper. After all, when God put man in the Garden (Gen 2) He told him to eat. In other words, eating seems to have a “place at the table” regarding what central to being human. Perhaps when we get together and eat food and celebrate it as a good gift, we are returning—so to speak—to Eden, living as we were intended. Put simply, we were made to eat; and when we eat we are living out our human-ness before God as He made us. I realize that that I am not accounting for the general abuse that is associated with eating (and it needs to be addressed…but not here) and all the problems stemming from this abuse. Nevertheless, as we eat we are living as God made us…we are partaking in something that was Good, even before we ate (Gen 3) and things became sour (enough with the puns, Ryan!).

So on the lakeside, the day’s first catch and fresh baked bread—common things—were no longer devoid of value. Everyday, yes; trifle, no. These mundane things were not only enjoyable in themselves, they were the context in which neighbor love was carried out. I’ll say that again: neighbor love (mission) happens in the context of common things.

Now back to Healing Waters. On the river, a fly, a rod, and the company of friends were common things enjoyed unto the end that my friend “felt human again.” He had an understanding that something was lost about his human-ness when the roadside bomb went off. And in a boat, with a fly rod in his hand, and close companions at his side it was restored. Rhetorically, I'll ask, "Has mission happened?"

Maybe for the first time in my life I’m thinking about what Jesus shows us about being Human. I’m convinced that he lived more humanly than any other man or woman or dog that ever (really!) walked our sod. I believe to follow him will mean restoring what was lost in Eden as we make our way to the New City. 

If you care to share them, I’d love to hear your thoughts…

--Ryan

What did Jesus Hear?

Before typing I looked on Google Images for a picture of Jesus that includes his ears.  I tried a couple of different things - hoping for something funny more than a good picture of Jesus' ears...  I found nothing, if you find something interesting, please let me know!

This past Sunday Zack preached on what Jesus heard.  3 times he mentioned that it is not sin to hear a cuss word. While I am listening to this series I am enjoying it tremendously, but when I get home I find myself confronted with the ways I have always done things, with the ways I have always thought - and I am troubled.  Apparently, my limits are not sin either - they are human - and yet, I don't want limits, I want to be really productive: as a man, as a father, as an intern at the church, etc.  Maybe it isn't sin to hear cussing, but I grew up thinking that it was.  Maybe my limits are not sin (in fact, it seems pretty clear they are not), but when I am with my family I think it is often my job to meet all of their needs.

Over and over in the "Sermon on the Mount" Jesus said, "You have heard it said... but I say to you...".  You think this way, but I am telling you it is about the heart.  You know these laws, and you're trying to keep them, but the character within is more important.  You think that if you manage your behavior, God will be pleased with you and I am here to free you from such loneliness and hollow religion.  I have to be honest - I cannot picture Jesus' ears.  Can you?  I am much more used to the Jesus who gets me to Heaven than I am the one who hears me.  I really can't picture Jesus hear someone cuss and be unbothered.  That is ridiculous and hollow and silly...  Our theology states that Jesus is fully God and fully man, but I'm not sure I know Him as fully man.  Something in me wants to believe no one would actually cuss around Jesus.  That is ridiculous and hollow and...  you get the idea, you remember the kind of people Jesus hung out with.  Why can't I picture him hearing cussing?  Why do I think it is bad when I hear it?  Why do I have trouble with my limits in general?  What do you think?

-Matt Blazer

On Being Human: Seeing what Jesus Sees

I feel embarrassed that C.S. Lewis describes me so well. For what he seems to know of me is not flattering. Lewis once pointed out how difficult it is for us to remember our humanity when looking at one another and interpreting one another. In his Screwtape Letters, Lewis imagines how a senior devil might teach a younger devil to disorient Jesus followers. Referring to the Jesus follower as the "patient" the senior devil says this:

“When he [the patient] gets to his pew and looks around him he sees just that selection of his neighbours whom he has hitherto avoided….Provided that any of those neighbors sing out of tune, or have boots that squeak, or double chins, or odd clothes, the patient will quite easily believe that their religion must be somehow ridiculous.” (Lewis, Screwtape, 12)

I am prone to believe that categorizing and explaining is synonymous with knowing and understanding. I see a red bird. I call it a Cardinal. I may tell others that this bird is a Cardinal. Yet, I actually know nothing about the habits of Cardinals in general or the nuances on the body of a Cardinal that indicates its unique story. I am often tempted to treat human beings in this same way. I'm even prone to illusions about myself because I see myself more cruelly than Jesus does or less realistically than He does. Each of us, even those of us whose eyes work well, is partially blind when we look at ourselves and at one another. 

Most of us know what it is to have others look at us but not see us. We know what it is for another

to keep us tied to our worst moments. We feel used and fraud-like because only our best moments are valued.Jesus is different. Jesus does not look at us, at other people or the world in the same way as His followers, the secularists, the spiritualists, or the religious tend to. The religious and the common folk see Levi the tax collector; Levi the scoundrel. Levi the corrupt misuser of money. The thief. The bribe-taker. But Levi tells us that, in contrast to how others saw him, when Jesus looked at him, Jesus saw a man. "As Jesus passed from there, he saw a man called Matthew sitting at the tax booth...." In contrast, "when the Pharisees saw this, they said . . .'Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?" 

Similarly, when the religious and the the indifferent saw the notorious woman. They saw her as the sinner she was. But Jesus pointedly asks them to see her humanity. "Do you see this woman?" he asks. (Luke 7:44) The way Jesus asks stuns us. He looks at her not them. He turns away from them and toward her. He leaves them in the shadow of His gaze. He places the full light and heat within his loving eyes upon her. He looks into her eyes. He touches her heart. Fully seeing her, he asks them, "do you see this woman?" He does not minimize her. He does not exaggerate her. He lets her be within His gaze as she is. 

I feel humbled by Jesus. Jesus does not blind himself to the wounds and rants and insanities of a person. He confronts such things with the love and payment of His life, death and resurrection. But Jesus confronts as one convinced of our human dignity. It was through Him after all, that we have been created. Others label you. But in Wendell Berry's words, they assume that explanations are more like buckets than wells. When Jesus sees you. He sees you as a human being. He does not reduce you to simple explanation. He enters the deeps and from there draws out the nuances of the tributaries within you.

So, as a an ordinary man, I long to feel the fulness of His gaze and to grant it to others. As a community of Jesus followers, we at Riverside want to echo the words of Bono from U2. We ask God. "When you look at the world what is it that you see? People find all kinds of things that bring them to their knees." With the song, we then testify that how Jesus relates differs dramatically from our own visual attempts with people. "I see an expression so clear and so true," Bono continues, "that changes the atmosphere when you walk into the room. So I try to be like you, try to feel it like you do." But then we humble ourselves and confess that apart from Him we cannot see. We agree with Bono, "But without you its no use. I can't see what you see when I look at the world."

Jesus, as your followers, please teach us to see human beings again. Please free us to see ourselves without illusion but with your eyes.