"Perfect" Jesus

One of the things that I believe is incongruent to a fundamental understanding of Jesus is this notion of perfection. There is no question in my mind that the idea that Jesus was perfect in every way shape and form psychologically hinders us from interacting with him in anything more than a ceremonial manner.

I live in Austin, TX. Sandra Bullock, Matthew McConaughey, and Lance Armstrong live in Austin, too. I am 100 % positive that if I spotted these three folks sitting together at a table in my favorite restaurant I would NOT pull up a chair and introduce myself. I would snap a picture to post on Facebook, but I wouldn’t get very close or be caught staring for fear of coming off like a creep. These guys aren’t perfect, but they’re celebrities. Most of us are sensitive to the fact that there is way too much “cool” happening at this table for us to handle. If we sit with these three we might think that we are trolls by comparison. What could we possibly add to their conversation that would justify our presence?

Same thing happens with “perfect” Jesus.

I’m not questioning the “sinless” Jesus. I’m saying that “sinless” may not denote perfection.

Here’s my personal mental image:

Jesus is a celebrity and his disciples begin to take on the role of a buffer between him and the crowds he draws. He’s speaking to a group of MOPS over here and, obviously, surrounded by a contingency of pre-school kiddos. It’s kind of hard to hear what Jesus is saying over the chatter and play of the kids.

As self-appointed buffers, the disciples begin to shoo the kids away so that Jesus can continue without interruption. But Jesus rebuffs them saying, “Dude, don’t mess with those kids. They are as important as the rest of us.” (Matt 19, Mark 10, Luke 18).

So he kneels down to speak with the kids and tousle their hair when he sees a turtle close by. He grabs the turtle by the shell and holds it up at eye level with the children just to show them how cool it is. While Jesus has this turtle in his hand, it abruptly sticks its head and legs out of the shell and flails around a bit in an attempt to escape. In doing so, the turtle scratches Jesus’s finger with its claw, thereby, causing Jesus to drop the turtle to the ground and jerk his hand back reflexively from the sudden surprise.

Here’s my question: Can you imagine Jesus jerking his hand back like that or dropping a turtle or being startled from sleep by a loud noise that made him sit straight up and look around wildly? Or was he way too cool for that?

And if Jesus ever was startled or surprised or flinched as a bee flew right past his ear does that mess with your “perfect” image of him?

When we think of Jesus as this beatific, haloed, or perfect being we stop thinking of Jesus as a person—a person just like you and me—a person that any of us would join at the table by walking up and introducing ourselves.

What a shame it would be if our “perfect” mental façade of Jesus prevented us from ever feeling comfortable enough to approach his table.

What a shame it would be if our “perfect” mental façade of Jesus kept us from allowing others to get to know him as well.

What a shame it would be if our “perfect” mental façade of Jesus caused us to act as his buffer instead of sitting at the table with him and waving other people over to join us.

What a shame that would be…

Sisyphus Revisited

Nakedpastor.com says, "There is a force at work that would exalt the church. There is a force at work that would humble it. It is necessary to discern this."

So, yeah - What if all the scripted defensiveness of congregational "church" were a deception? At some point, someone should respectfully ask the simple question: could it be that we are worshiping the organization and the belief system which exalts it in defiance of God's will?

Response to Chris via comments on "open to the elements"

"Open to the elements"


Chris, I think you're right on. Hence, I don't intend to try to convert you to the "dark side". You've gone to a great deal of trouble to explain your position and I respect that. Again, I agree with your perspective wholeheartedly and have argued the same points many times.

I think that the root of our disagreement is a difference of perspective. As in, you're drawing a picture of the same tree I am, but we're standing on different sides of the tree and at different distances from it.

When you've been away from congregational "church" as long as I have you loose your perspective on the people and it becomes all about the failings of the system. I realize that isn't the most objective means of analysis. However, I would suggest that those involved in the congregational "church" have an equally subjective view which elevates the individuals and ignores much of the institutional failings.

Here's the rub - the ones that we're trying to mirror the love of Christ to are OUTSIDE the institution and often very very far away. They cannot see past the institutional expectations of conformity, grabbing for money, and imminent hypocrisy bred out of a misguided marketing of holy living. I won't patronize you by going any further with this...I know you get it.

I spent 18 years in various levels of ministry from teacher to director to deacon in Southern Baptist and Methodist churches. I've written a book all about my frustrations with the system and with a nod to what I speculate it could all look like 20 years from now. I did my undergraduate work in English - Poli Sci - History at an uber-conservative Southern Baptist University. I miss the people I taught, debated with, and partnered with trying to change from within. Some of them are still close friends. Most of them turned their back on me when I could no longer accept the "status quo."

Here's what I'm looking for...to be able to combine my distant perspective with a closer perspective, like yours, in hopes of developing a comprehensive perspective that actually begins to bridge gaps instead of making them bigger. There has to be a reason why so many are leaving the institutional "church" in favor of social causes. I'm all about embracing change with an eye toward accepting whatever form it comes in. I, personally, believe that the change is a spiritual revival too large to be confined by the statutes of organized religion. My reasoning behind this is far too lengthy to go into in a comment box. You have to combine the ideas of about 30 different contemporary authors, speakers, and theologians currently taking up the mantel of change to even begin to get a full whiff of how big the next quarter century will be on a spiritual level.

Again, I agree with you about just shouting down the institution and throwing rocks through the stained-glass windows - I don't want to be THAT guy. I'm a problem solver. The reason I blog is that I'm still trying to find my voice and work out what this is all suppose to look like. The frustrating part for me is that I'm convinced that the problems of institutional organized religion aren't fixable. It seems like a house you love which cannot be remodeled any more. Best practice may be to just leave it be and move down the road to build something entirely new.

I also realize that all of this might be a result of my own baggage, but that thought seems to diminish the more I do this and the more I discuss the matter with those folks sitting far away from the institution. Those "outsiders" need more than a bridge - they also need a motive to use that bridge.

Honesty in advertising?

Confetti in my coffee

There were small colorful pieces of confetti in my coffee when the waiter brought it to my table.

I was cool about it. I gently dipped my pinky into the coffee to extricate the bits out of my beverage (pinky works best, trust me). It’s a trick I’ve always used to get unwanted things out of a beverage—a fly out of wine, for instance. It virtually always works if you remain persistent.

Then there’s the little trick I play on myself that goes along with this technique. It’s called the self-hypnosis head waggle. It’s subtle and usually lasts for less than a second. It marks the moment after I’ve removed the offending insect or bit of trash from my beverage that I convince myself to take the next drink.

The rule is that if you can take the first post-impurity drink without any detectable altering of beverage quality then what you removed did not, in fact, have any type of negative impact on the beverage. As a matter of fact, once you’ve made it past the second drink without incident then you can convince yourself that whatever had been floating in your drink never really existed. Now that the self-hypnosis is complete, I am free to move forward with whatever activity, conversation, or thought I was engaged in at the time I noticed something in my cup.

Let me back up a minute…I know that it happened, but if I’m able to wipe it from my memory then I can argue that it might as well have never happened. You know—if a tree falls in the woods and no one’s there to hear it… It’s that kind of a thing.

Look—I know that there has to have been some kind of fly residue left floating in the wine, but it’s cool if it never actually happened. Ok, it did happen, but I’ve intentionally wiped it from my memory so it NEVER actually happened to ME.

Alright! I know that if I analyze my “pinky technique” it involves pinching the offending insect between my finger and the side of the glass. I also know that this type of pressure is certain to produce further contamination of insect particles and “juices”.

Aaaaaa, self-hypnosis head waggle X 3!

I’m good. I’m good. Never happened. Whew. Where was I?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

So, there’s this confetti in my coffee. I remove the three bits of paper and begin to enjoy my mug o’ lifejuice. It’s an inconsequential moment that never fazes me. No harm—no foul. We move on. Life’s not perfect. Confetti is always better than a bug because it’s easier to forget the confetti than it is the bug.

I’ve now spent 10 minutes writing about something that I’ve told you doesn’t matter and might as well have never happened. I must be losing it, right?

What if you go to that same restaurant once a week…twice a week…maybe even every day and each time they bring you your coffee it has a few tiny bits of confetti floating on the top? Aren’t you gonna start asking questions? But, if it didn’t matter the first or second or third time, why does it begin to take on a whole different level of significance thereafter?

But it does matter. Confetti doesn’t belong in coffee. It’s out of place. It has no business being there the first time, but it sure as hell shouldn’t be showing up on a continual basis.

What if this took place at every restaurant you went to? What if, suddenly, every cup of coffee you ordered began to show up with a few tiny bits of colorful confetti floating on the top? Wouldn’t you start to get a little freaked out?

And then you notice that everyone else is methodically going about removing the confetti with their pinkies without a second thought before enjoying their hot beverage. Now things are beginning to get truly bizarre. When did everyone but you get the memo that confetti was expected in coffee?

Freakin’ weird, man!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Here’s my rant:

The inconsistencies and peccadillos of organized Western Christianity aren’t as much the problem as the consistency with which they occur. I really shouldn’t have to say any more.

The bigger debate should be about if these things are simply confetti on the surface of the coffee or are they flies floating in the wine. There is a huge difference…

If it’s all just confetti then I’m very wrong concerning my assessment of church politics, theology, worship of doctrine, and passive aggressive mind control. A little confetti thrown into the coffee shouldn’t keep me from enjoying the fantastic migas they serve at this restaurant I frequent so often.

But if it’s flies, gnats, or any form of living creatures floating in the drink then I’m afraid the quality of the food being served isn’t gonna matter. If you can’t keep the bugs out of my drink and don’t care enough to at least remove them with your own pinky (which is dishonest and entirely gross on another level) then I don’t even want to think about what might be in the omelet. Erp!

That’s not all—the fact that the waiter seems indignant when I’m not willing to perform my self-hypnosis head waggle every single time this happens really pisses me off. “None of the other customers seem to have a problem with the impurities in their drinks, sir.” What a prick!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Summation:

I don’t expect perfect. I don’t even expect “very good” every single time. It’s a restaurant. People run restaurants. People are never perfect. Groups of people are very rarely consistently good every single time.

My problem is that I think I see legs on this “confetti” and I’m not interested in someone else’s self-serving analysis of MY drink. Even if I’m wrong about the legs…doesn’t it seem weird that the beverage always has to be skimmed before I can enjoy it?

What in the hell is up with that?!