The Good, bad and ugly

THE GOOD: I am like Jesus in that I have a heart for those Robin refers to as “riff-raff” (see first blog post if you don’t get the reference).  I can love the woman at the well, I can love the tax collector, I can love the prostitute—read I can love the homeless, I can love the homosexual dying of AIDS, I can love the prostitute.  I am like Jesus in that the Pharisees of the world tick me off.  I get irritated with those who think they have all the answers and come down with wrathful judgment on those who they perceive do not have the answers.  In those ways I am a Christian.

THE BAD: I am unlike Jesus in that I don’t reach out to the modern day Pharisees with love.  They may have angered Jesus, but he always made time for the Nicodemus’ of the world.  Jesus may have pointed out the errors of their ways but he took time to walk with them.  Jesus may have been disappointed in what they were doing, but he still saw value in them.  In those ways I am not a Christian.

THE UGLY: I feel hostility towards the modern day Pharisee which is neither Christian nor loving.  I commit the very act of self righteous judgment on them that they do on those that I define as the least of these.  I don’t want to be around them.  I don’t want to value them.  In those ways I am a hypocrite.

THE HOPE: That I will learn to love as Jesus did…unconditionally and with reckless abandon.  I am learning that for each of us “the least of these” means something different.

Short stories Part 1

I need a USB port on the side of my head so that I could be hooked up to a computer and my story ideas—well the entire story—downloaded to a Word document.  Maybe someday I will actually have the time to do all the writing I would like to.  Until then I’ll just keep jotting down story ideas on crumpled up pieces of paper and saving them for the days when I have nothing to do but write. 

Lately I’ve been thinking of a lot of historical fiction stories…mostly short stories that would take only a hundred pages or less to tell.  The one that has kept me awake lately is about Jesus (most of the historical fiction ideas I have relate to Jesus in one way or the other).  In this story a Jewish man encounters the resurrected Christ.  They have a great time together, eating and drinking wine.  Well the wine fills their bladder and they must relieve themselves…like guys not in the company of women do they find a nice tree to go against.  The guy happens to look over and notices Jesus is not circumcised (his resurrected body has been healed—some will scream John 20:27 at this point…to them I say “blah, blah, blah”).  The man, even though he has felt the love of Jesus in their fellowship, decides that Jesus is at best a renegade Jew who was never circumcised and is now leading people away from the one true God.  He plots to kill Jesus…

Getting older blows

Earlier in the week I mentioned my poor mental health while stating I was in top physical condition.  That is not entirely true.  I am getting older and things I could once do I can do no longer.  I can’t workout as hard and function as a human being the next day.  I can’t demonstrate certain wrestling moves without contorting my face into a mask of pain.  I can’t break into a sprint without three and a half hours of warming up unless I want to pull a muscle.  Diving for a ball while playing sports still occurs to me, but by the time I’ve done my belly flop the ball has gone by and by the time I lift my carcass from the ground the play is over.  Not only do I have physical limitations, but my body is changing.  I have lumps where no lumps previously existed.  I’m beginning to see wrinkles.  Thankfully I’m not losing my hair, but if I were it might be ok because I could comb over the hair that has started growing on top of my ears.  Getting older blows.

I’m not suggesting we shouldn’t grow old like William Nolan and George Johnson did in their 1967 novel Logan’s Run in which people “voluntarily” were put to death at age 21 (in the movie version the age was graciously changed to 30) to conserve resources and to keep the world from over-populating.  I guess what I’m getting at is we shouldn’t let ourselves be defined by our vitality.  Our sense of worth needs to come from something other than what we look like, what we can do, what we think—all things that can be taken from us in a heartbeat.  Maybe it is because I am losing my vitality, but I’ve really been thinking a lot lately what it means to be a child of God.  I may not be able to lift heavy weights or play short stop or think deeply about matters, but I will always be a child of God.  My value is being me to a loving Creator.  Now that is a thought that makes a grandpa smile.

I'm unhealthy

Over the last four to five months I've come to realize how unhealthy I am.  I don't have high blood pressure, I don't have high cholesterol, I don't take any daily medication, I work out 5-6 times a week so why am I unhealthy?  I'm unhealthy because at times I try really hard not to be me.  I'm unhealthy because at times I try really hard to do things to win the approval of others or so that others will like me.  I'm unhealthy because I let what others think of me define my mood.  I don't like being unhealthy.  I'm taking steps towards become more healthy which means becoming the me that God intended me to be.  Borrowing from the wisdom of Frank Green, Hugh Prather, David Nixon, Edwin Friedman, and Dan Brunner (to name a few) I've developed a Self Care Bill of Rights that I am trying to live by.  I'm sure there will be times when I will fail miserably and my glittering image will win the day, but I am trying to get healthier.

1.     I have the right to be responsible only for myself

2.     I have the right to change my mind

3.     I have the right to make mistakes

4.     I have the right to be wrong

5.     I have the right to be illogical in making decisions

6.     I have the right to say “I don’t understand”

7.     I have the right to say “I don’t know”

8.     I have the right to say “I don’t care”

9.     I have the right to not defend myself

10.  I have the right to be Terry Clees