I'm a Christian. I Don't Need To Be Like Jesus.

I woke up Palm Sunday thinking about something. A personnal story or event of my life, and really it had been in my subconscience for at least a week. I have been reading and discussing some religious stuff, as of late, with a new perspective. You could say I have had a paradigm shift, or you could say it all just makes more sence this way. I won't bore you with it all, but I will share my event. An event that really has made me realize nonviolence is the only Christ like response, and that I prefere the term redemption (not redeemed) to salvation.

I don't really remember any other male pastor kids, on our district, from my late childhood to my midteens. That should let you know how I viewed myself, and why I assumed everyone else thought the world revovled around me. Then Jim and Dave came to south Oklahoma, and all hell broke lose. To let you know how arrogant I was, they didn't enter my world until I was actually fighting one of them. Meaning they didn't not actually exist to me and I have no memory of them prior to this event.

We (I will explain we in a moment) were in an old cabin at church camp. I think the cabin use to be a nurse station. It had one big room with a few small bedrooms, and maybe a bathroom. The place was mostly void of all furniture, the walls were bare and white, and I am positive we broke in. For as far back as you could see through the windows, and with as many kids smashed inside as possible, we (Jim and I) stood at the middle of this chaos. We didn't actually get to far into beating the crap out of each other before his mom showed up. Something about a large crowd of kids screaming, "Punch him," that quickly brings an adult. That was my first encounter that I remember with Jim, and you will notice a lack of someone still.

Every summer for a few years was like this. Eventually I realized Jim had a little brother. Their main goal in life seem to be to destroy me. Summer conflicts quickly esculated to gang warfare. I remember one summer we hunted for weapons to use in our battle royale we had scheduled. (We at least scheduled fights like gentlemen.) Then the next summer everyone knew to bring a weapon. I remember someone came walking up to an argument between Jim and I, (probably discussing who had dibs on which girl. Seriously.), and they had a two foot metal pipe. Next thing you know suitcases are emptied in a tornado of testosterone, and everyone had a knife of some kind. I am not really sure how that was defused.

One summer Jim wasn't there but Dave was. This was the first time I realized Dave was the same age as me, and that Jim was actually older. Which would half explain my willingness to be so confrontational with him. Also since Jim wasn't there, and Dave and I had not really ever spoken, things went a bit different. We mostly ignored each other.

Every year the last night of church camp is the one you plan to make out on. Then the preacher guilts you down to the altar, and screws everything up. Usually all your friends and adults that know you go down, and cry and pray with you. This time I sat there. I was not going. I was tired of the same old failure after two months. I had graduated, and was moving on. I planned on making out for once.

Then out of the corner of my eye I saw Dave get up and go down. I thought, "Stupid." I knew he had friends and family there, but a weird thing happened. No one seemed to be moving. I got this massive weight on my chest, and I started moving. It was all in slow motion, but everything looked more bright, and my thoughts were sharp/focused. The next thing I know I wa at the altar praying with Dave. We were both weeping, hugging, and asking God for forgiveness. Then Dave just stared into my soul and thanked me. Something was different that time, and that something was Jesus. Something about a moment of real compassion, and not fear of hell, allowed God to enter into communion with us.

I realize setting here over a decade later that I have failed miserably in most relationships. That one moment, that has recently come back to my attention, now defines how I want to be. Only a nonviolent response towards my enemy allowed Christ's power to bring redemption. I didn't do anything alone that day. Dave had to equally embrace me. Then help drag me along more often than not.

When I look back to that day I see Christ. Only a few other moments in my life as strongly represent or show Jesus truly standing there redeeming me. I like the term redemption so much now because it speaks to the process. I think saved so often seems to be seen as the acculmination of it all. I like to imagine that the altar, or your bed late one night, is were Jesus is able to finally say, "Good. Now that we have that out of the way, get up and Follow Me."

I told Ginger the other day I believe Jesus is the only Way, and way represents a certainty of directional knowledge. So I no longer believe having said the right words will save me. I think true believe in the message of Christ's life, validated through His resurrection, and helped out is some ambiguios way at the cross, has to lead to a life changed. (Before we get into forgiveness of sin, Jesus was doing that pre-Cross. Also realize orthopraxy has become some what more important to me than orthodoxy.) I explained to Ginger I now imagine each of us standing before God and it asks have you lived a life of redemption or have you brought destruction to my creation? Only if you have followed in The Way will you find salvation. Jesus's life was faith lived out in action, Jesus's death was faith lived out in action, and His resurrection was action validating it all. (Again, orthopraxy.)

Going into Easter weekend I would like to share the only prayer I have left to pray. It is by a great poet Dave Matthews (not the Dave in the story).

Bartender (Lillywhite Sessions) Lyrics

If I go
Before I'm old
Oh, brother of mine
Please don't forget me if I go

Bartender, please
Fill my glass for me
With the wine you gave Jesus that set him free
After three days in the ground

Oh, and if I die
Before my time
Oh, sweet sister of mine
Please don't regret me if I die

Bartender, please
Fill my glass for me
With the wine you gave Jesus that set him free
After three days in the ground

Bartender, please
Fill my glass for me
With the wine you gave Jesus that set him free
After three days in the ground

I'm on bended knees, I pray
Bartender, please

When I was young, I didn't think about it
Now I can't get it out of my mind

I'm on bended knees
Father, please

Oh, and if all this gold
Should steal my soul away
Oh, dear mother of mine
Please redirect me if this gold...

Bartender, you see
The wine that's drinking me
Came from the vine that strung Judas from the Devil's tree
His roots deep, deep in the ground

Bartender, you see
The wine that's drinking me
Came from the vine that strung Judas from the Devil's tree
Its roots deep, deep in the ground
Ground...

I'm on bended knees
Oh, Bartender, please

I'm on bended knees
Father, please

When I was young, I didn't think about it
Now I just want to run and hide

I'm on bended knees
Oh, Bartender, please
Bartender, please...