Two Points from the Padre

My class has ceased to call me reverend, and has now changed my name to "Padre". It's funny enough that I think I like it. And, it seems that it is an accurate title. God's been whispering that to me all week: "This is my flock". I think he's trying to pull me out of the lonely depression I've been in, at least partially, by turning my eyes toward them. Selflessness can be medicine when it doesn't make you feel like you're dying.

There are two things God has revealed to me the past couple days:

1. Part of selflessness is being yourself. I think for the past few months I've done the selfless thing, while being wholly and completely focused on myself while in doing it. In the process I miss God and the other people involved in the situation. My class is pointing that out to me. I'll see opportunities to care for them, but I'm too down and beat up myself to feel empowered to do anything about their problems. There are days where I'm so discouraged that I end up checking out on my own spirituality because I don't feel qualified to do anything spiritual that day. I know all the great doctrines about atonement and redemption, but there are days where they mean nothing to me. Other days, I walk strong in the truth of redemption. On good days I feel grounded and ready; I'm on the lookout for opportunities to minister. Opportunities rarely come up on good days. It seems like bad days are the ones full of chances to share the gift of reconciliation. Maybe God's trying to tell me something in that.

Today was a hard day, and it made me realize this: when I'm focused on what image I'm giving off, I have no energy left to listen and see what God is doing in a specific situation. Basically, I have to give up trying to be somebody or something to these people, so I can let God be who he is in me. I need to quit worrying about my sin, my emotions, my circumstances or anything else that prevents me from focusing everything I've got on what God is doing right in front of me. The truth is I keep sinning and I hate it. I've felt down for weeks, and am struggling to be the positive guy in the room. I'm dealing with being lonely, stressed, overwhelmed, busy, and frustrated at all that goes on with me daily. And the truth is I'm forgiven for sinfulness. I'm hopeful even when I'm down. I have every reason to be calm and at peace despite the noisy, obnoxious struggles of each day.

I am somewhere between those two competing realities. David Bosch would probably call it a creative tension. A tension that results in creativity to meet the paradox of existence. It's a good thing. I'm learning against all other voices that I'm glad to be where I am/who I am. It's only when I've accepted this dual reality that I can choose the better one, and persistently work to make it happen. (more on persistence some other time)

2. Salvation. The majority of my class isn't "saved". Most of them have no connection to any religious body. Like so many people between 20 and 35 they are suspended indefinitely, respecting all religions, but choosing none of them. Like one girl said today, "I'm just not ready for that." Here's what I was realizing today: Seeing as most of my class already has me classified into some preacher/pastor role (even though I haven't really said a word about my faith to any of them yet) I've been wondering what I would say to them in that regard. I was thinking about salvation. I realized that we use salvation as though it really carried with it a definition that all people would understand. I don't think there is such a definition, and we just ignore that fact and procede so we won't have to deal with theology.

I like theology, so here goes: I think we should throw the words "salvation" and "saved" out of our vocabulary. The only exception should be if we attach the word "from" to the end. Example: never again should any of us say, "He got saved." In my mind that means absolutely nothing. It means he probably adhered to some empty ritual which now makes him "in" with whatever religious group that ritual belongs to. I'm going to place myself on the side of the world and say we should take back the words "salvation" and "saved". Let's despiritualize them.

If I were to talk with one of my classmates about 'salvation', we would end up talking about religious ritual or I would give him a monologue about how great it is being "saved" though never defining what that means. I'm not in favor of either option. I don't think Jesus is either.

Jesus saves us . . . . from our sins.
Jesus saves us . . . . from oppression.
Jesus saves us . . . . from death.
Jesus saves us . . . . from ourselves, or sickness, or destructiveness, or satanic powers, or fatalism, or pessimism, or greed, or starvation, or addiction, or emotional scars, or doubt . . . .
Jesus saves us, but he only saves us from _____.

Here's the key: Most people don't know what sin is, and don't care. Our big selling point is that Jesus will save people from their sins. Sin is abstract; make it real! Anyone who thinks about it long enough will admit that they have something that they can't shake. There's something they can't beat. There's something that is spiraling downward in their life, and a they don't know what to do about it. Plenty of them might not be willing to, but what of the one sinner who repents? Find, specifically, the place in the lives of others that plays the role of the spiritual black hole. What is it that is ruining their attempts at living a better life. Before we go spouting off some nonsense about salvation from sins, how about we let Jesus save them from their broken marriage? Save them from selfishness. Save them from emptiness.

I've realized this more clearly the past two weeks. Salvation is a process of being delivered from the things that we can't solve on our own. I'm still being saved, praise God. But, my salvation is not merely salvation from my sins (a lovely vague, impersonal term). My salvation is from selfishness, self-hatred, doubt, fear, and ten-thousand other things, all of which are specific and real, and which I am fully aware of. The reason salvation means something to me is that it is attached to negative things that serve to tear my life apart. I value being saved from these things. I think so would most who don't care about religion.