Holiday Musings

On Finishing the Race

I did something crazy tonight. The temperature was in the lower 30 degrees Fahrenheit (zero degrees Centigrade), and I decided to go for a run. I ran a little over 3 miles through the dark and mysterious neighboring neigborhood known as "Magnolia Forest." As I was running, my thoughts crystallized around the end of my run. I started thinking about the mystical "finish line," with regard to running races. One has to maintain a fine line between thinking and not thinking about finishing the race. Surely, one must be conscious of the fact that there is an end to the present physical exertion. The notion of endless sweating and heavy breathing worsens the tired effects on the body. Even if it's just a thought in the back of my mind, I have to at least know that there is a goal, a "finish line," something this run is leading toward, an ultimate end. And yet, I find that dwelling too much upon the end is unhealthy for the mind. If I think about the end of the run too much, I may find myself doubting if I'll even reach the finish line. I may become complacent and slow down to a jog. So is thinking about "the end" a positive or a negative thing?

More broadly, for a Christian, heaven is the "finish line." If I think about heaven too much, this may prove unhealthy. I will relieve myself of the necessity of serving Christ right NOW while I am still upon earth. I will so overexaggerate my present desire for heaven that I will miss out on the work God has for me to do now. On the other hand, God intended for us to know there is an ultimate glorious end of our lives, an end to the daily suffering and pain we incur. Christ promised a road full of suffering, but also that "the sufferings of this present world are not to be compared with the glory that shall be revealed in us" (Romans 8). I have to keep heaven in the back of my mind, in my subconscious, to give value to my sacrifice in this present life.

So where is the balance? Perhaps I'm asking the wrong question. The question is not "what" but it is rather "who". When I run a race, am I running just to cross the tape at the end? Some would say that simply finishing is sufficient. But these same people must at least admit to the fact that if they run a race, no matter how badly they perceive their running ability, there is a glimmer of hope that maybe they will perform well in the race. Surely, the finish line is a good goal and motivation, but a motivation is not the same thing as an objective. A motivation helps me reach an objective. When I live my Christian life, am I living it just to get to heaven? No. Surely, heaven is a motivation, a wonderful reward. But serving Christ is just that. I'm serving Jesus, not the heaven he formed.

I find that we are much to concerned with rewards in the form of trophies and accolades in our Christian walk. We are supposed to be concerned about the reward of knowing Jesus. Let that be enough.

On Forgiveness

I just finished The Weight of Glory by C.S. Lewis. He makes some interesting points about forgiveness in one of the final chapters. Often times when we have done a fellow human being wrong and ask forgiveness from him or her, we are not really sorry or repentant. Our repentance is more an "I beg your pardon" than an admission of wrongdoing. We enjoy a good rationalization. We may say we're sorry for a wrongdoing but in the back of our mind, we feel we had a reasonable excuse. We had a just cause. There were mitigating factors. The circumstances were beyond our control.

So, we don't actually take responsibility for our negative actions. We pretend to do this, while in the back of our minds, we maintain an excuse for why we did what we did. It's even worse when we do this to God. We make a form of repentance by telling Him we're sorry. There is usually a "but!..." though. We leave God's presence thinking we've repented, feeling good about ourselves for only half-addressing our sin. Repentance is not excusing our sins, but, rather, staring it full in the face and owning it. To be forgiven, we must first see and understand the implications of our wickedness. There is no other way. Christ can only totally throw away our sins if we totally release them. And if we're making excuses for our sins, we most certainly have not released them. I John 1:8-10: "⁸If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. ⁹If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. ¹⁰If we say that we have not sinned, we make him a liar, and his word is not in us."

On the Notion that "Love is Blindness"

Love is blindness. Well, that sounds poetic enough, but I think it is silly. If you say that love is blindness, you have to agree with the statement that, "Love cannot identify any characteristics of the person being loved." This degrades love, making it weak. I think that love is actually so powerfully all-seeing that it renders two people who are in love completely vulnerable to each other.

Before I bring in a scripture reference again, let me give a concrete example. It involves the beautiful young woman and I mentioned in 2 posts before this one. In the course of a discussion we shared recently, we discovered that each of us loves the other so much because we are able to love the whole person, idiosyncracies and all. For example, she is a gigglebox, and I over-analyze everything, tending to ramble on. The fact that we love each other isn't an indication that we are so "blinded" by love that we can't see the odd qualities in each other. It, rather, stems from seeing the entire person and loving every bit, even the strange bits. Maybe especially the strange (and fascinating) bits. Though we can both talk a person to death, the most enjoyable moments we've shared have been simply gazing into each other's eyes, realizing words are unnecessary. The simple awareness of loving...and being loved in return.

Is this not how our Lord has loved us? "While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us" (can't recall the reference). Jesus didn't wait for us to shape up or "get spiritual" before he started throwing darts of love our way. What makes the love so "dart-like," so piercing, is that we have not deserved it. And we are loved by Him...completely and unreservedly. Surely Christ's love sees all. His love is by no stretch of the imagination "blind." His gaze penetrates to our deepest, darkest sin...and into the beautiful parts of our regenerated soul, as well. And He loves us with the whole panarama in view. Only, he loves us enough to want to change the dark parts of our lives. It takes a true friend to be honest and confront a problem in another friend's life. And this is what Christ has done: loved us enough to confront our problems and make us better.

Yet, even in Christ sacrificing Himself, this love is mysterious. Jesus loved without expecting any love in return. He simply offered Himself and said that whomsoever will should come.

Think about that this Christmas. Even in buying presents for our relatives, are we not expecting to receive presents from them, in return? Oh, admit it. Our love is not yet like Christ's. We expect something in return. When you're done reading through the usual Luke Chapter 2 Christmas passage this year, take a look at the essence of this year's celebration: Isaiah 53.