
"Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but made himself a servant, being born in the likeness of men."
Well, here in Seattle and across the country snow came thundering in this past week, changing many schedules, covering many roads, and generally bumping everyone off of life as usual. Here especially, with snow like this occuring only once every decade or so, life was altered drastically. The roads transformed overnight into slushy, icy obstacle courses, and entire segments of the city seemed to shut down (the airport ran out of de-icer, buses stopped running, and an already depressed retail district closed its doors early several nights in a row).
One of the things that caught my attention as someone born in the midwest and who grew up going to the busstop in sub-zero temperatures was Seattle's particularly tricky mix of ice and hills. I've gotten myself stuck once or twice in Minnesota, but only when trying to drive home in the midst of 12"-24" blizzards. I knew that our relative lack of trouble on the roads in the midwest had a lot to do with the amount of money our government spent on snow removal. I didn't realize, however, how much our lack of topographical variety had to do with it as well. Here in Seattle I saw car after car this past weekend driving this difference home as they spun their wheels in place trying to make it up steep, icy hills.
Helping a few of these cars get unstuck reminded me of how true it is that our problem, whether in snowstorms or in life, is rarely that we don't have enough horsepower. Any driver should know that slamming on the gas when your car is on ice won't get you anything but burned rubber. Often what needs to happen is to stop trying to go forward, and instead roll backwards, either to the bottom of the hill or to a patch of pavement. Only after it has gained some traction should the driver try to move forward.
I think that all people encounter, at one time or another, a moment in their lives when they feel stuck, when after all of their efforts they just seem to be moving in place, burning rubber. Those of us who try to follow Jesus often encounter this in our spiritual lives as well. Despite giving all of our effort, despite trying over and over again, we sometimes find ourselves feeling like we or the ministries and churches that we're involved in haven't gotten anywhere.
Paul tells us that Jesus, though he was certainly worthy of all honor and power, did not see obtaining more of it as part of his calling. In fact, if you look at Jesus' life as told to us in the gospels, we never see him trying to grab more influence or power for himself. Even during those moments in the gospels when it appeared as if things were moving backwards (for example: his disciples either not getting him or outright abandoning him), Jesus did not panic or try to apply more force to keep things moving forward. He simply kept doing his Father's will, controlling those things that were given to him to control, healing and feeding those sent to him, speaking to those he was called to speak to.
For those of us who follow Jesus, we need to know that moving (or at least appearing to move) backwards is at times part of going where he goes, no matter how humiliating that sounds. Sure, being in control, always moving forward sounds nice, but sometimes that's exactly what gets us stuck in the first place. Instead of trying to force our issues and our momentum, we need to pray, "Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done."
2 comments:
mmm.
once again very profound.
but sticking with the analogy of going up the hill.
the only way we know that the amount of force we are giving the car is too much is by the product [fruits>roots] and i find that its a bit silly to choose a random amount of force and hope that it works.
so how would the driver comprehend his/her situation and calculate the amount of force needed?
side note: if God gives us free will then he wouldnt make the hill frictionless would he?
good question/comment.
it's dangerous to spend too much time in analogies (they all break down at some point), but let me continue this one for a bit. a driver stuck on a hill shouldn't choose a random amount of force and hope that their car starts moving. they have to wait for the car to slide back onto a specific situation: dry or at least level ground (or they need to get out and start shoveling). in other words, someone who is stuck knows that they are doing the right or wrong action not primarily by the product of their actions, but by studying their situation. (the product confirms their study, not the other way around)
regarding frictionless hills: this is part of knowing the truth about our situations. again, I'm stretching this analogy to its limits probably, but how do most frictionless hills get formed? they're not purely acts of nature, rather, they're a combination of people spinning their tires, snow plows not running (or just packing the snow down), cities deciding not to use salt and deicing agents. My point in mentioning this is to argue that our predicaments are a complex mix, part of which includes our own participation. Yes, God is sovereign over all of this, but I believe we go too far when we reduce life to him allowing and us choosing in the aftermath. I think our relationships with God are much more life-like than that, and they don't take place in a philosophical vacuum. When we get to those "frictionless hills" in life, part of realizing whether our tires are about to hit traction or not is to be honest about the role our own mad tire spinning has played in all of this...and to know that God is honest when he promises not to forget us there.
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