What would Jesus think now?

Courage is of no value unless accompanied by justice; yet if all men became just, there would be no need for courage. Aegsilaus the Second

Over the Christmas holidays the History Channel played many segments on Jesus—his birth, the lost years, his teachings. One piece in particular ended with a thought provoking statement about Jesus’ political message, a message with which many Bible scholars have resonated. Jesus grew up and taught in a time of great upheaval, a time when the Palestinians were being severely prosecuted by the Romans. There were immense divides between the rich and the poor. While his teachings always kept an eye on relationship with the Father, they were also firmly planted in the day-to-day lives of the people with whom he spoke. What caught my attention at the end of the hour was the statement that Jesus wanted to bring attention to the plight of the poor, the homeless, the sick, and to see his society evolve to the point where it would not stand for the abuse of any of God’s children. As I listened, the words, “what would Jesus think now”, rang in my ears. Would he be pleased with the way society had evolved?

Have you ever wondered why sometimes it’s easier to respond to an event that has just happened rather than to ongoing problems like homelessness, poverty, and illness? Why is it that we can act more easily for the event rather than for the state of life? The event feels as if there is end in sight; the other—life as it is—can feel hopeless. The energy of each is different as well. One energizes as we see the tangible results take shape. The other, life, can tend to sap our strength and commitment when we look down the long road and see little light.

If we are helping, if we are in service it shouldn’t matter, should it? Both can enliven us and make us feel connected, on fire with the truth of giving, but only when we approach each with True Love—the love of non-attachment, the love of being fully used, bringing our acceptance of the conditions with us.

This is where we get into trouble. It is our picture of a world gone wrong that gets in our way. It is our version of how life should be, of how we should be for our neighbors that prevents us from acting in ways to cure the ills that torment society. Our mind’s picture of what should be, no matter how Holy, creates a resistance in us that saps our commitment and strength, causing us to turn our backs on those in need, causing us to again create the world Jesus sought to remedy.

When there is an event—the more horrible the more applicable—our minds are stunned into silence and we act from our hearts, the only mover we have left. The mind no longer is in control that is, until it regroups and assumes control again. It is the mind’s overwhelm that takes our focus off Katrina, that prevents us from stepping up in fully reparative ways, to help those in poverty, illness, prison and neglect.

It is the mind’s overwhelm that prevents us from stepping into the streets to remind our government that this way of doing business, this command and control way of asserting our influence isn’t working, in fact, has never worked. Most importantly, to remind those we have elected to govern of their hearts, their desire to do good, their will to create a better world and the will of us all.

Our mind’s story about our future ineffectiveness prevents us from linking out hands and hearts and marching cooperatively to stop mind’s madness. Isn’t it time we took the short journey…a journey of mere inches…and began listening instead to our hearts. The journey involves a short leap of faith. All that is required is our willingness to shift our focus from our heads and step instead into Heart, a journey of a mere 12 inches.

For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a Stranger and you Welcomed me,I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me. Truly, I say to you, As you did it to one of the least of these, my brethren, you did it to me. Matthew 25

Lessons from the little children

There’s nothing sadder in this world than to awake Christmas morning and not be a child. ~ Erma Bombeck

Erma Bombeck’s words depict two possible scenarios. One paints a picture of carefully worded letters to Santa, children breathlessly waiting for the sound of tiny hooves on the roof, shiny wrapping paper and bows tossed all about to the tune of seemingly endless shrieks of joy—the sounds of Christmas morning in a home blessed with small children and full of love!

He said to them, “let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of god belongs to such as these.” Mark 10:14

The second possibility held within and perhaps unmeant, in Erma’s last few words is quite different. It brings with it a childhood joy and innocence not reliant on age or physical stature. This joy relies on a message boldly obvious, when one looks, an answer inherent in the question. Is it possible for us, as grown-up children, to wake on Christmas morning, to stretch and awaken each morning, and be a child to whom the kingdom belongs? And if we could, what would that look like? Better yet, what would that feel like?

Looking at a child’s face on Christmas morning might provide a clue. Look closely and you will find the innocence of unabashed engagement of life—no holding back, no waiting for an invitation, no worry about yesterday or tomorrow—just this moment fully entered into. The really young ones, the little ones untainted by growing older and more wary, clap their hands in glee at the least provocation—a fun box in which to hide, a glossy bow dangling from their small head and tickling their ear, your smile, your tear when you open that special gift they so carefully wrapped for you. These little angels sit in awe and inspiration, the breath of God flowing freely through them, pure of judgment, fear, want, desire, and most importantly, the strong sense of ‘me’ those emotions of separation evoke. These little ones sit in love. They sit within the kingdom of God. It is the reason we look into a baby’s eyes and fall into love ourselves. Their innocence is our portal.

“I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.” Mark 10:14-16

Christmas—Joy—Love! How do we adults birth Christmas joy within? If Christ were standing next to you, what do you think He would say? Would he tell you to stand back and wait? Would he tell you to protect and defend yourself or would he ask you to care for the least of us as you care for yourself—or perhaps, even better? What would He say? Would He tell you to lay down your judgments of all others so that you could at last find the kingdom of heaven? Would He tell you to die to all your silly beliefs of separation and live in Love? Would He take your hand and sit you down, look into your eyes and let you look into His? If He did, what would you allow yourself to see? Take a moment and be with that question and see what insights appear. It is the gift of Christmas.

This is the message of Christmas: We are never alone. ~ Taylor Caldwell