This Year…
The other day I was drifting around on the interweb as the snow piled up outside, and came across a posting of a whiteboard sign where someone scrawled the following:
This year I want to be more like Jesus...
Hang out more with sinners
Upset religious people
Tell stories that make people think
Choose unpopular friends
Be kind, loving, and merciful
Take naps on boats
Because most of us find comfort in systems in order to understand, and certainties into which we can retreat, and rules so we know who is in and who is out, and tidiness in a world of messiness, we can unintentionally fence in the uncontrollable, untamable, irresistible Jesus. When we have an image of how life should look, it's a short step to taking that image and calling it Jesus. He becomes an idol of our own creation, and that Jesus looks less like what we read in the book and more like us in all of our opinions, discriminations and preferences. For instance, when our politics inform our faith life, we might just be out of sync with Jesus.
But if we were to read the gospels again, as though we had never seen them before, and worked to strip our preconceived notions of how this faith stuff "should" be done, what is left stuns a reader. Jesus goes about life with freedom and forward with messages of hope and new life and challenges to be better from the inside, out. No wonder the good folks of his day called him dangerous, heretical to established order, a drunk and a glutton. He wore the badge, "Friend of Sinners" with pride.
This year I want to be more like Jesus.
How that looks will be different for me than how it looks for others, but the sameness will come with the desire to live out what we say we believe. Jesus in us, truly, ought to affect us practically. Instead of hunkering down behind religious walls and hiding, as it were, our light under a basket, consider what it would look like outside your circles of friends and influence to take a stroll smiling at strangers, risk a conversation over a beer at the pub, share a meal at Family Kitchen, lend a volunteering hand, ask people to tell you their story, more freely give away money as though you are God's "pass-through" agent.
A good start might be found in taking the list above as your compass for any given day. Look at it again.
Hang out more with sinners (you will discover how much in common you have and how fun they are to be around)
Upset religious people (resist the urge to have church folks approve of you for following their rules so go ahead and break a few)
Tell stories that make people think (open ended questions and stories that are head-scratchers can get conversations going into the deep end)
Choose unpopular friends (playground popularity wore thin then and still does so find the outsider to hang with)
Be kind, loving and merciful (you, like Jesus, will stand out in our harsh, critical, and judgmental world, and it only takes a bit to do a lot)
Take naps on boats (or, for me, in my recliner as the storm rages, trusting in a God who knows my name)
Life lived a bit more like Jesus may eventually put us at odds with our tribe. It's hard for many good and godly people who work to build worthy lives and fortress against all threats to the country to embrace renegade believers who live like this. Questions around propriety and priorities pop up. But let the critics croak.
This year, I want to be more like Jesus.
MusicMusicMusic
Gunhild Carling (who is really something) plays for the King of Sweden
Some Irish kids wishing for home
Not sure where they are from but this is nice
and a funny or 2wo (sorry in advance...these are groaners. Proceed with caution)
Researchers have recently discovered that the artist Vincent Van Gogh had quite a few interesting relatives:
A brother who worked at a convenience store: Stopen Gogh
A magician uncle: Wherediddy Gogh
The aunt who taught positive thinking: Wayto Gogh
A psychiatrist nephew: E. Gogh
The brother who bleached his clothes: Hue Gogh
A very obnoxious brother: Please Gogh
A sister with a small bladder: Gotta Gogh
A cousin who moved to Illinois: Chica Gogh
A niece who moved to Mexico: Ami Gogh
The ballroom dancing aunt: Tan Gogh
A second cousin who drove a stagecoach: Wells Far Gogh
The bouncy nephew: Po Gogh
A birdwatching uncle: Flamin Gogh
A grand-niece that no one has heard from because she's been traveling around the USA for years: Winnie Bay Gogh
__________
When does a joke become a dad joke?
A: When it falls in love with a yo mama joke
B: When it becomes apparent
C: When you store it in a dad-a-bank
D: When the punchline is full groan