We come into this world desperate to be held, loved, cared for. And we’re not ashamed; If we don’t get what we need, we’ll raise hell till we do. We’re not picky, either. It doesn’t matter “who” or “what” you are: looks, religious beliefs, age, politics, etc. We don’t care.

If you’re human, you’re cool – fix me a bottle and rock me to sleep and I’ll love you forever.

Our twilight chapters will be similar. We’ll have lived our lives, chased multiple carrots that left us wanting more, finally ready to admit that people matter more than anything else.

When I die, it won’t be accomplishments or money or whatever that will comfort me as I face the end. It’ll be relationships – those scant chapters when I felt close to someone. Loved.

But sandwiched between the beginning and the end is our life’s pursuit; some future destination believed to define us, set us apart, bring meaning and value to our lives. For most of us, it involves money and/or accomplishment at some level, and, many times, incites us to put relationships in the back seat, or the trunk, or worse.

The farther we walk down this road, the more conditional we become. We won’t simply hang out with anybody. Our friends must be qualified, and our list of qualifications gets longer the further down this road we go.

We’ll have friendships, but they’ll be difficult, as they always are, and because they’re not a huge priority, not nearly as huge as the amazing future life we’re crafting for ourselves, we’ll either stop working to make them good, or give up altogether and walk away, hoping to find that perfect friendship that doesn’t require any work, drama, toxic whatever.

So, in the middle chapters of life, we’ll put some distance between us and the humanity that we’re meant to swim in. We won’t be hermits by any stretch, but we’ll nothing like we were as children, or like we’ll be when we finally realize we’ve lost the plot.

In our middle-chapter quest for something non-human, we’ll lose the true meaning of life so that we might chase something unable to give us meaning, fully convinced that it will.

And we’ll scratch our heads wondering, “why ain’t I happy?”

Enter Jesus, with His bat-sh@t crazy, super-hard-to-follow commandments that are tailor made to drive us back into each other, so that we might recover what it means to truly be us.

Here are a few examples:

“Forgive, even your enemies.” There’s no offense worthy of eternal unforgiveness. And speaking of enemies, we’re supposed to love them too.

“For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the worst sinners you can think of do the same? And if you greet only your brothers, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the faithless fools of the world do the same? (matthew 5:43-48).”

Jeeze.

“Don’t judge, no matter what (matthew 7:1).” There’s no situation where it’s OK to pass judgment. We can judge people’s actions, but when we downgrade their humanity, call them evil, accuse them of destroying America, etc., because of their behavior, we’ve sinned.

“Don’t exalt yourself above others (matthew 23:12).” I have no comment on this, save the fact that I’m not doing well here. I will note that when I sin here, it forces me to simultaneously, ironically, exalt others above myself, and waffle back and forth between the two, like a tiny boat being tossed on the ocean.

“Be merciful, just like God is merciful (luke 6:36).” Impossible.

“Do not retaliate (matthew 5:38-39)” If we all followed this rule, social media would disintegrate.

All of these pull us closer to each other, removing the barriers (better, mountains) that come between us, so that we might live as we were created to be. Granted, they don’t go down easy, but they work, and ripple far beyond those who eat them.

Many times we refuse what Jesus has piled onto the plate in front of us and head for the stuff that tastes better: judgement, retaliation, anger, bitterness, unsubstantiated rightness – things that drive a wedge into what God’s trying to bring together.

So, it’s helpful for me to reflect on what happens when I do manage to choke down a few of Jesus’ spiritual brussels sprouts.

Here are some examples:

A Better World

When I was a kid, people could do no wrong. I didn’t ruminate on the frailties and failures of others. But I became jaded in the beginning of my middle chapters, and couldn’t seem to see past the junk. Then I entered the christian world and joined a church.

I remember sitting in the back of the sanctuary one sunday morning, looking at all of these people that I believed were holy, devout, good. Then I became a full-time vocational pastor and realized that christians carry as much junk as anyone else, and went back to being jaded.

A few years ago, I realized that my view of people gravely affects my view of the world. If humanity in general seems bad to me: dirty, selfish, mean, immoral, etc., my world seems bad. Even if I’m passing judgment on a small cross section of humanity – people who don’t have the right politics, for example – the world seems like an ugly, dirty, hopeless place.

In those rare events where I take Jesus at His word, and manage to forgive, extend mercy, judge with compassion and truth, etc., humanity’s unsavory bits find redemption in my mind, and the world, oddly, becomes a better place.

This all has a miraculous affect on my ability to be happy. I can’t be a joyful, hopeful person if my world is dirty and mean. Reconciling myself to others via the commands of Christ reconciles me to the true nature of this world, and my ability to find joy.

A better Me

And if humanity’s bad. I’m bad. That’s how this works. If I pass judgment on the very nature of others, I’m passing judgment on myself, blind to my unconditional value. Maybe that’s what Jesus meant when He said, “Don’t judge lest ye be judged.”

I’ve read volumes on how to feel better about myself, find self esteem, self worth, etc. None of these recommend any level of reconciliation with humanity. I’m now convinced that if I can’t see the rest of humanity as good, unconditionally so, I’ll never be able to view myself the way God does.

Talk about being unable to find happiness.

The Overthrown God

Core to the Gospel of Jesus is a deity who’s madly in love with people – all people: all races, creeds, religions, politics. Unconditional. No-boundaries. There is no sin that can get in the way of this – all of that mess was obliterated at great expense.

As His followers, we’re called to be equally overthrown. Jesus’ commandments invite us into a life that will form our minds and hearts into the same unconditional love for humanity that God will always possess, a love that nothing, according to St. Paul, can separate us from.

Anything less is less than human.

We can dive in now, or wait until we’re ragged, wrinkly, and tired, throw up our hands, say “what’ve I got to lose,” and surrender to Jesus’ invitation to become like the children he wants us to be; unconditionally in love, dependent on each other, closer to the oneness that He prayed for on the night of His crucifixion:

“I am not asking on behalf of them [Jesus’ disciples] alone, but also on behalf of those who will believe in Me through their message, that all of them may be one, as You, Father, are in Me, and I am in You. May they also be in Us… (matthew 17:20-21).”

He didn’t pray that we’d all be nice to each other, or that we’d be on the same page, as I’ve heard it preached on so many Sunday mornings. He’s praying that we’d all become one, just like He and God are one, so close that we’re “in” Him, and by implication “in” each other.

That’s an impossible request. What fool would pray such a thing?

And what fool would devote their lives to this level of unconditional oneness with the rest of humanity?

I’d prefer a religion that requires adherence to a few things that are much easier than what’s above, one that makes me feel more “right” that others, and doesn’t get in the way of all the idols I’m chasing in these middle chapters.

My invitation to you, and reminder to me, is to say no to that kind of religion, and consider stepping into the life that Jesus hopes we’ll live. You don’t have to believe in all of the metaphysical stuff, simply consider a small, initial change of trajectory, and be open to bigger steps in the future.

Got a friendship that’s gone south? Feeling estranged from your spouse? Addicted to judging people? Angry at folks who don’t think like you do?

Jesus has a religion he’d like you (and me) to walk more deeply into. Correctly applied, it will end in you being reconciled to you, and to the rest of the world.

That, along with being reconciled to God, is the gospel.

I’m not a pro at this, but I’m better than I was last year, and hope to get a little better in the next. I can attest to the happiness and hope that it’s brought into my life, how it’s rippled beyond me, and that it’s not a waste of time.

If you’ve gotten this far in today’s post, feeling like you might want to try this on, or step more deeply into it, let me know in the comments below. I’m happy to skype/hangout/email/etc. and share my experiences.

As always, thanx for reading.

Photo Credit: Lukas Robertson at unsplash.com