Messianic Issues

     In college, I had a love-hate relationship with my professors.  They loved to give hateful tests and I loved to write sarcastic (funny) comments in the margins.

     There was a particular morning in which we were given the professors favorite type of test: the pop-quiz. These are the epitome of low, no-good, downright cruel things that teachers simply love to do and that morning my brain had not woken up with the rest of me. After answering the questions within the allotted time period (circa 4 seconds) I wrote a note at the bottom of the page.  "WWJD? He wouldn't give us pop-quizzes!"

     When I received my quiz back a few short days later, I found a note in the midst of the gallons of red ink that my professor had scribbled furiously on my paper. (We won't discuss the grade).  He had simply replied, "I am not the Messiah!"

     In our quest to be Christ-like, it can be easy to become involved in "saving the world."  Especially for the 'bleeding hearts', such as myself, who just want everyone to be their best and would all too willingly sacrifice our own well-being for the sake of another.

Newsflash: Somebody already sacrificed themselves for everyone; You don't have to.





Josh?  Aren't we supposed to help people?  Shouldn't we do that to the best of our ability?


My dear (imaginary) rhetorical friend, you've missed the point.  It's not that we shouldn't help someone, but we need to understand that there is a point where you stop.  Your job is to show them the way to go, not to carry them down the path.

This concept can be viewed as the old proverb says.  "Give a man a fish and he will eat for a day.  Teach a man to fish and he will eat everyday."

It feels like you're helping out when you give away your 'fish', but you have only applied a temporary band-aid, not a permanent fix.  (The greater implications are that you deprive yourself and your family of that fish that they needed.)



Now this thought does not mean scale back on your efforts.  By all means, work hard.  At the end of the day, however, you need to have invested in the future, rather than having reacted to the present.



The purpose of the great commission is to lead others to Christ.

You're not the Messiah.  Lead them to Him.

Feel, Don't Think. Use Your Instincts.

     The rough contour of a jawbone gave way to the less definite neck line. The shaggy hair and wild scruff on his throat gave but a glimpse of his wild manner and free nature.  For him, the rules of society were but obtrusive guidelines, principles that gave way when there was no one to enforce them.  The look on his face showed boredom and disinterest; His eyes, however, spoke of anything but apathy.  There were scars in those eyes, where they had once been burned by passion and fire, yet now they seemed to display an uncomfortable belief, strange fire, as if he knew something that had changed his reason for existence.  A force had moved upon him, and it promised to haunt him throughout eternity.

     "Why must you do this?", came the painful cry.  My heart beat faster. I knew what he spoke of.  I knew his anger. I knew the pain that gripped him.  The beat in my chest expanded to include my hands and head.  This was the moment that I hated, yet I had to face.  It was necessary that I confront his lies, for the sake of my own sanity, if nothing else.  I fell to my knees, my body threatening to explode with each pump of blood. 

     "You have nothing for me! You speak nothing but lies!", I yelled, so as to be heard over the dreadful noise that my chest was determined to make.

     "Where is your proof?  You have none because there is none!", he screamed.  I searched my mind for something, so much as a pebble that I could use to throw back at him in retort, but I knew there was nothing to be found.  How can one argue with something that you believe to be true?  Wordlessly I moved on towards my impermanent final solution.  I knew what I wanted to be truth and he was a obstruction to my belief.  My fantasy.

     I gagged him and tied him to a chair.  Once he was silent it was so much easier to think and breathe.  As he flew through the air, struggling for freedom, I thought to myself, "Now what else must I do today?" The river playfully took him under and swept him away as I looked for something trivial to distract myself with. There was so much more to do before he came back, and I knew that he'd be back. That winding river always landed him right where I would intend to cross the stream I would have to replay this scenario yet again.

 

It seemed so heartless and cold, how could I be sure that he would survive?  It was simple.  He is me.

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     My childhood was an utterly normal one.  I had two middle-class parents, a dog, a sister and a brother, while living in the suburbs of DFW.  My parents struggled somewhat to pay the bills and I was oblivious to any kind of troubles except that of a skinned knee.  

     My siblings and I would go to school and then spend our free time doing what any other child would do, from "shooting" passing cars from the rooftop with our toy guns that were "accidently" missing the orange tip, to intricately developed games where we stood on opposite ends of a field and chunked rocks at each other.

     We played hard and we prayed some, would start reading our bibles with that infamous "BREAD" program (achieving all of 23 days before we quit), and listened to dad read bible stories.  We had family prayer and we knew church was important and that Jesus loved us a lot.

     Then came the time known as adolescence when life is turned upside down emotionally, physically, and spiritually.  (and we wonder why those children do nothing but cry all the time).  It was during this time that I began to question the very fiber of life, as any young adult would.  This very natural and healthy process took a significant turn for the worse when I realized that I knew what I believed better than I knew why I believed it.


     How could this be?  Didn't I go to Sunday School for over a decade? Didn't I listen to many sermons during the year?  Challenged by my own attack against myself, I went to the resource that had helped me the most, the place where I found answers to life's most difficult problems.  Google.

     That was one of the least helpful things I've done in my lifetime.  There is so much trash and heresy to be found, I soon realized that I was getting nowhere fast.  So I turned to the real answer book.  I resolved not only to read my bible, but to study it.  How does one do that?  My guess was to read a passage and then think really hard about it.  Somewhat helpful, but I still hadn't found the answers I needed. So I finally mustered up the courage to ask someone.  and someone else.  and someone else.  Until I realized that they all had the rambling speech full of rhetoric with little to no actual information.

     I knew what I believed.  I couldn't find evidence for it.  So I came to the conclusion that my life was simply a battle against what I deduced logically and what I accepted on "faith".  So now you can see the symbolism behind my story at the beginning of this post. This was something that I went through multiple times in a day and eventually led to my spiritual death if you will.

     Because of a lack of understanding, I saw God as unjust, a liar, and evil manipulator.  With this thought planted firmly in my mind, it wasn't long until it made it's way into my heart.  I cried alone to myself, wishing I could intellectually believe the Christian message of hope.  It wasn't until I was alone at church one night when I truly realized the depths to which I had fallen.  When I sat in a bathroom stall and screamed at God using every expletive I could think of.  Surprised at myself, I was slightly taken aback and yet I felt relief from releasing that pent up emotional hurt and rage.  This was my low point, the place that I don't mention because I'm ashamed of how I acted.  Soon, I found myself in an altar, repenting of the evil that had originated from my heart.  This time I was finally able to find a sound teacher and I balanced out.

     Since then I've learned more and more and God has shown me more wonderful things to learn from Him and His Word.  Not a day goes by that I don't think about this point in my life though.  Not a day goes by that I don't remember the feeling of helplessness and all thoughts eventually leading towards rage or apathy.

This.

     This is why I'm burdened to teach.  Not because I've known some of the best and been inspired (although I have).  Not because I'm looking for a profession that pays okay and gives me a feeling of fulfillment (although it would).  Not even because I love teaching in and of itself (although when done correctly, it's one of the most enthralling things on the planet).

     I am burdened to teach because a little boy named Josh cried in hurt and grief without someone there to console him.  I am burdened because the study process isn't just caught, without first being taught.  I'm burdened because somewhere out there, there is another boy or girl who is about ready to give up on their most precious gift because they haven't been taught.  That is why I live.

     Teaching isn't merely done in the classroom, but it is a lifestyle.  Imparting knowledge and wisdom isn't instinctual, but it must be done.  If I don't do it, who will?









Deuteronomy 6:7-9, 20-25


7-9
And thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, and shalt talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up. And thou shalt bind them for a sign upon thine hand, and they shall be as frontlets between thine eyes. And thou shalt write them upon the posts of thy house, and on thy gates.


20-25

And when thy son asketh thee in time to come, saying, What mean the testimonies, and the statutes, and the judgments, which the Lord our God hath commanded you?  Then thou shalt say unto thy son, We were Pharaoh's bondmen in Egypt; and the Lord brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand:  And the Lord shewed signs and wonders, great and sore, upon Egypt, upon Pharaoh, and upon all his household, before our eyes:  And he brought us out from thence, that he might bring us in, to give us the land which he sware unto our fathers.  And the Lord commanded us to do all these statutes, to fear the Lord our God, for our good always, that he might preserve us alive, as it is at this day.  And it shall be our righteousness, if we observe to do all these commandments before the Lord our God, as he hath commanded us.