He
threatened me the very first time I met him. Fever and all that. Like an apple
terrifies a tomato’s peace; or like iOS terrifies something Chinese… He was
dumb. I don’t know the right word to use to describe my feeling of his quietness,
but he was kind-a like mute. Passive. He tingled my mind to want to understand him.
He was a subject of distorted realities. A motionless creature, maybe. I
watched him sweep away pain and sensitivity to emotion like the sun peels away
the gloom of dark in an amberly way. He threatened the truisms in existence with
such ease – counter changeably – like it was a mistake for some things to really
make sense, and in his case, any sense at all. I felt like my innermost being
really wanted to understand him, it screamed so loud for discernment; yet the
other side of me that is always in touch with reality wanted so much to question
him… such a creature in mortality that was jumpy in every bit of description. He
was beastly and unwitful. Yet at the top of it all, he was Christian…
“But
was I less?” I wondered. “Should I have been less? Why should I have been less
anyway? Who said I was less? Less Christian than he was, huh?”
Some Christianity lacks emoticons… I
should say. I should say that some
Christianity lacks emoticons… Some Christianity lacks fun. It lacks motion and fervency. It lacks
laughter and easiness. It lacks the life-smile. It lacks joy and passion. It is
flat to the ground. It is warped and dead (or dying if I have to be a little ‘fair’),
and shriveled, and painful, and weird, and too
sharp, and somehow cunning, and brief, and paradoxical and - according to G.
K. Chesterton’s “Orthodoxy” - full of orthodoxy, and conventionalism, and blunt
(although sharp in some way)… The terms of its existence are like a gas pump
without oil…
But
we meet it every day. We interact with it. We know it. Maybe sometimes we
secretly admire it, and then most times we abhor it. Blunt stoic Christianity. It
wants no pleasure, it knows no pain, it cries not, it laughs not, it cares
less. Blunt stoic Christianity. It ties itself to spiritual plumpness. It denies
pain. It carries with itself lots and lots of heaviness and uneasiness. Blunt
stoic Christianity. It is what I have to talk about today.
The
Christian life we live today has been overhauled into two extremes: either into
a ‘radicalized’ sense of religion with taints of secularism or; into orthodox
spirituality which grabs petty laws and converts them into dogmas of religion. In
simple terms, you will meet as many Christians as you can’t count who subscribe
to the notion that spirituality is being separate from any kind of physical pleasure
(say as a result of money or prestige) and the ultimate pretence that pain,
sickness and any form or displeasure is intolerable and should neither be
existing nor be thought of. It is a life that most of us live - a life lacking
the balance between genuine pleasure and materialistic pleasure. We have been
taught to abhor pleasure – the whole lot of it – even good pleasure. We are
desperate and struggling to live in the “now” that is today. We are struggling
so much with the reality that is “now”. We abhor TV – even good TV, we deny the
blend of fashion on us – even decent fashion. We don’t watch movies (or soaps).
Some of us don’t watch news. We hate the internet and social media because ‘they
are impure’. We hate good phones. We hate this and we hate that. We hate those
who speak in tongues tagging them as ‘noise makers’ who should just do whatever
they are doing in their privacy. We hate people who jump when they praise and
worship. We are not friendly, not even to people of the Faith. We don’t even
befriend people of the secular world in the name of them making us impure in
one way or another (and I am not advocating for ‘befriending pagans’ but that
it is important for a Christian to be social and suitable in his/her immediate
environment). We are pathetic!
So I
always wonder (about such people, like that guy up there and who may include
myself) if God at all created pleasure for the secular world or for ‘the
heathen’ as most of us love calling them. Were we created to be called to either
evade pain or deny it all through our existence? Were we formed in the image of
God so that our lives may be full of running away from things or people, even
those we love; all in the name of acquiring the highest fonts of spirituality?
I am just
wondering. Am just wondering.
Of course
we have been commanded (or instructed) not to engage in any kind of civilian
life
(2 Timothy 2:3-4: Endure hardship with us like a good
soldier of Christ Jesus. No one serving as a soldier gets involved in civilian
affairs – he wants to please his commanding officer…)
and therefore should put our obedience in
(and to) Christ above our own meager pleasures, remembering mostly where we are
headed than where we are. But Christ Himself was in touch with His environment –
He knew that he was going to the Father, but still wept when people died, and
had compassion on some when they stayed hungry. He was angry and hungry
countless times. He made friends - with his disciples and tax collectors, and
Pharisees like Nicodemus – many friends, many kinds of friends. Christ was in
touch with His immediate environment, although his lack of sin was (and still
is) highly impeccable (Hebrews 4:15). This makes me wonder what say, His reaction(s) or
behavior would be if he were to meet a guy like me today. I am sure that the
Jesus I know would command me, “Don’t be a hypocrite like the Pharisees…!” then
He would add some few statements here and there to confirm His allegations (as
it would seem to me)… But again I may ask, “What would Jesus do today to remain
Holy in such an imperfect and sinful world…?” The answer is simple: He would
live a common and normally life without too much religious sophistication, but
loving people and smiling at them, and being merciful and compassionate – He is
the same Jesus, right? The one who doesn’t change, right? He will still do what
He’s gotta do in order to achieve that which the Father sent Him to do – to offer
help and redemption to mankind in any (and every) way possible…
Here is
the endpoint: you don’t have to feel ‘fake’ or uneasy in the presence of one (or
many) who glory in mortal piety and ‘spiritual strictness’, but rather feel
inadequate before the One who demands that we obtain from Him immortal righteousness
– that which He Himself has made us to become. For we are his righteousness,
and not our own righteousness. We don’t have to be hard on ourselves in order
to please God. We don’t have to pretend that pain or affection or love or
desire does not exist, but learn and know how to channel all of them in a godly
way to the rightful place until we achieve that which God has created us to
become… his righteousness – and not blunt stoic self-righteous Christians!
Morris.