Jesus v. Me (a brief comparison)

Jesus v. Me

            I don’t know how healthy it is for my self-esteem to compare myself to others.  I can hit free throws much of the time but it would not be very smart to compare my basketball skills to LeBron James’.  I usually sing the right notes in a song, but I am not singer Josh Groban is.  I should be happy with who I am.  Everyone should have a healthy amount of self-love.  The second great commandment is ‘love your neighbor as yourself’ (Luke 10:27).  If all I have is self-loathing, my neighbor is in trouble.  I don’t need to compare myself to others.

            Still, sometimes a benchmark helps me see how I am doing (whatever it is that I may be doing).  Overall, what kind of human being am I?  As I pondered this I thought, why not aim high?  So, I am setting myself alongside Jesus as I read Ephesians 1 & 2.  Jesus need not be nervous.  I am a humble winner.  I know Moses is supposedly the most humble man ever, but that was written before I was born. 

            So, it’s Rob v. Jesus.  Good luck, son of Mary.

            Let’s see as I scan over Ephesians I come to chapter 2, verse 1.  “You were dead through trespasses and sins.”  Oh, that doesn’t sound so good.  I know this doesn’t stick to Jesus because, well, he has never sinned.  I have read enough that I can verify that.  I on the other hand have – a lot.  This is not the place for specific confessions, but anyone interested in my checkered record can interview the saint otherwise known as my wife.  The whole death through sins bit sticks to me like honey on a linoleum floor; hate stepping in that in my bare feet.  Yeah, I am dead in sin.

            What about him?  OK, Jesus hasn’t sinned.  Let’s not throw that party yet.  Maybe Ephesians can knock Mr. Sinless down a peg.  Let’s see … ah … here it is; chapter 1, verse 20.  God raised him from the dead.  I see.  Well, I can’t sugar coat it.  The check goes in Jesus’ column.  That’s one for him.  But I am still in this game. 

            Ephesian, help me out. 

            Or not.  Chapter 2, verse 2:  it says I (A) followed the course of the world, (B) follow the rule of the power of the air, and (C) it says he is the spirit that is at work among those who are disobedient.  Does it take a Bible scholar to see that Ephesians 2:2 is referring to Satan?  And I follow him?  I did not mean to.  I didn’t know.  No, that’s a load of something not fit to say or type.  When I follow the world down a path that leads away from God, I know it.  I acknowledged as much when I said I have sinned.  That’s not humility.  That is honesty.  But now here Ephesians is telling me exactly where I stand – in the footsteps of the devil.  Maybe we should just cut this whole comparison thing, just shut it down.  No?

            Ohhhkayyyy – how does Jesus fare?  Ephesians 1:22 says God has put all things under his feet and made him the head over all things.  He is not following the course of this world.  He’s determining it.  He is the head, the boss, the big fella, the top muckidy muck. 

            For those scoring at home, it is Jesus 2, Rob 0. 

            I won’t lie.  My confidence is not soaring right now.  What’s that?  You want more.  Alright, you sadist.  Let’s go to Ephesians 2:3.  It says all of us were by nature, children of wrath.  All of us follow the desires of the flesh (which we know is opposite of the fruit of the Spirit – see Galatians 5).  So, I hear you, smacking on Rob for his fleshly nature, his tumble into the fire of God’s wrath.  Go ahead, pile on me.  It doesn’t say Rob has messed this up.  Ephesians 2:3 says all of us.   That’s you too, baby.  You want to dump on me, well; you’re in the pit with me, my friend.

            Huh?  You’re saying I started all this as a comparison between me and Jesus not me and you?  Oh come on!  What fool would, for a second, try to compare himself to Jesus.  Comparisons are not really a good idea.  That’d be as daft as trying to play a game of one-on-one against LeBron James.  I … I… oh.  Oh, yeah.  I started this.  Didn’t I?

            I am, consumed by the flesh as I am, in the path of God’s wrath.  We already know Jesus is elevated as the King and Lord of all.  No comparisons remain.  Should feel like pond scum right now.  But I don’t know.  When I consider who I am – death-bound sinner that I am – why don’t I crumble in a pile of self-hate?  Why do I feel so good?

Ephesians 2:4-10

⁴ But God, who is rich in mercy, out of the great love with which he loved us ⁵ even when we were dead through our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ^[a]—by grace you have been saved— ⁶ and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, ⁷ so that in the ages to come he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. ⁸ For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God— ⁹ not the result of works, so that no one may boast. ¹⁰ For we are what he has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life.

            You see, it is not Jesus v. me.  It is Jesus for me, creating me as His own, alive in Him, living for the purposes He sets before me.  The story is not me at all.  It is Christ.  I am grateful for all He gives. 

            What does Jesus have for you? 

Ask him.

A Gen Xer at Half Time

This just in from the Pew Research Center – Generation X is America’s neglected middle child: http://www.pewresearch.org/fact-tank/2014/06/05/generation-x-americas-neglected-middle-child/.  The commentary accompanying the research is very interesting, especially to me, a card-carrying member of the generation of people born between 1967 and 1984.  We are the slackers.  Our generation underachieves and does not care.  There are less of us.  The article even points out that our generation is based on a smaller time frame (16 years) than the Boomers before us and Millennials after us (20 years each). 

My response?  I don’t care.  I don’t care if I am part of a peer group that collectively is not the shining star of history.  That does not dictate my own levels of success or failure in life.  I do.  What I become is up to me. 

Of course along the way, I have a lot of significant help.  I was raised by parents who love each other and their kids.  My mom had high expectations for me.  She would not accept slacking and she taught me to aim high.  My dad is a tough guy (army airborne, Vietnam vet, infantry and armor divisions).  Their parenting and role modeling created an image for me to live up to. 

In my work (pastoral ministry), I have been blessed to lead churches filled with loving people who forgave my mistakes and encouraged my growth as a disciple and church leader.

I married a woman who loves me in all my ugliness and who is strong in areas where I am weak. 

In all these ways, I have had significant advantages and I don’t want to undersell that.  When I say what I become in life is really up to me, I am not neglecting the help I’ve received.  I simply mean that America is a competitive environment and in a competitive environment others are trying to grab what I am trying to grab.  Any disadvantage I might have will be used by my competitors to defeat me.  I can’t complain that this problem or that disadvantage has set me back.  I cannot.  It doesn’t help. 

One sentence in the analysis of the Pew Research data on Gen X fits me perfectly.  It says Gen Xers (in other words ME) are “smack in the middle innings of life, which tend to be short on drama and scant of theme.”  I read that and cringed a little because lately, I have been beset by an unsettling ennui.  I feel like my life is short on drama and scant of theme.  I am bored and the boredom is boarding on malaise.

However, what is to be done about it?

I have shared my discontent with a few people (and now with my blog, I share it with the world).  When I talk about it I always quickly add that I love my wife, my kids, and my job.  I have no interest in red sports cars.  Really, since most of the teams I despise wear red, I don’t like that color very much, but I digress.  I was struck by the comment about “middle innings of life” because I have been feeling it so profoundly lately.  It is like, what is the most inglorious position in baseball?  To be a middle reliever. 

In an ideal game, middle relievers are not used.  The team’s starting pitcher goes 7 strong innings giving up two runs or less.  Then the set-up man gets the team through the 8^th and the closer finishes up the 9^th.  The only time a middle reliever comes in is if the game has gone horribly wrong with the starter getting shelled for a bunch of runs early.  Middle relievers are paid the least because the really good pitchers want to be starters or closers.

So, the Pew Research Center says the older half of my generation, those aged 30-47, is in the middle innings of life.  Boring.  Drama-free.  We realize our grandest ambitions have come up short.  Our wildest dreams won’t come true.  Maybe tamer dreams will, but that is all we have left: tame dreams.  We’ve stopped setting our sites on Everest; we happy to climb hills.  Leave the mountains for the 20-year-olds.  Even our representative in the political sphere to ascend to the greatest height (V.P. nominee Paul Ryan) ended up losing.  We are second place, never the champs.  What does it mean?

Not a thing!  (Typical Gen X answer.)

If I want to crawl out of my yawning midlife stupor, I need to do so myself, and I need to do so in a meaningful way.  That means no ridiculous purchases, no life-killing affairs, and no, no, no whining about it.  I must prayerfully, diligently re-connect to what makes life so awesome.

For me, the bottom line is not Gen X anyway.  Yeah, right now, I am a 44-year-old with pretty bad knees.  But bad knees, a receding hairline, and (the appearance of) reaching a plateau will not define me.  Neither will the generation defined by my birthday.  You see, I have a new name.  I don’t even know what it is (see Rev. 2:17).  But I know the one who gives it.  I know Jesus; not as well as I someday will, but I know Him.  That makes all the difference.

My perspective is not one of a person who will die in the next 40 or so years.  This heart may stop beating and this body may go to the ground or to the cremation furnace or to the medical school teaching lab; but, eventually, this body, like that Jesus’, will rise.  Resurrection is my future and life is my eternity; life in this body, albeit this body transformed. 

After the resurrection, I’ll be incorruptible.  My body and my spirit will be complete and eternal.  I will have fellowship with God and with all who are in Christ.  So sure, I may be in a patch of sleepiness.  Some call it a midlife crisis.  Pew Research Center says it is a typical malaise for Gen Xers like me.  But this is temporary.  The Spirit of the living God inhabiting my heart and guiding my steps is real, is present, and is eternal.  I have purpose and I have power.  Maybe the death of some of my dreams needed to happen.  Maybe the death of those dreams (pastoring a Megachurch, playing wide receiver for the Detroit Lions), is the birth of me discovering Jesus’ dreams for me in this life.  Take a deep a breath!  That is real and is something to live for.