Spiritual potholes

I hate potholes. OK. Maybe I should avoid the word “hate.” Loathe. Detest. Despise. You fill in the blank with your word of choice and add a factor of ten and you have how I feel about potholes. Potholes and I have a love-hate relationship. They seem to love my car and I simply abhor their very existence.

Potholes seem to have some sort of guidance tracking system programmed for my car. They always have. When I drove a big-honkin’-truck I didn’t really care. Any pothole smaller than a lunar crater was no match for my manly planet killer. Now that I have given up my ever-thirsty steel ride for a tea-sipping family sedan, each pothole creates a bone-jarring effect that causes me to check my review mirror to see if I am leaving some piece of my car behind. Lately I have hit so many of these urban land mines that I actually have begun to wonder if I am taking precious years off the life of my car, prematurely aging my vehicle past its prime. Perhaps. What frustrates me most about these demons of driving is that I never see them coming. I will be driving along and then, Wham!, I am dislodging my hip from my shoulder and looking in my rearview for falling parts. As I peer behind me I can always see my asphalt nemesis and I wonder, “How did I miss that?” There it is, a hole as big as a manhole cover, and I completely missed it. For some reason, I just don’t see them. It is as if they have some sort of secret stealth ability. More likely I am just distracted, but as I don’t want to admit I could ever be distracted and driving, we’ll go with the stealth idea.

As I think about Jesus’ approach to Jerusalem in the final days of his life, my experience with potholes comes to mind. No, Jesus wasn’t about to hit a pothole. That would take great skill riding on a donkey. Rather, Jesus is very concerned that God’s people are about to hit a pothole, and a huge one at that. They are about to have the unfortunate displeasure of wrenching their spiritual hip from their shoulder because they missed God showing up to offer them peace. Here’s the deal. This wasn’t the first time they missed this in the road. Missing God was part and partial to the history of Israel, something they had a great skill in doing. It seems that in almost every experience of missing God, at least two major items are in play: will and religion. God’s people missed God because of their own inclination to doing things their way and because of their fascination with the trappings of religion rather than the wonder of God. Jesus’ approach to Jerusalem is no different. Here we find a city in the throes of preparing for meeting God in the celebration of Passover. They are caught up in the religious event, but God wasn’t in the religious event. He was on the hill outside of the city. Here we have a people who are beginning to press against the bounds of Rome, seeking to throw off the shackles and find the freedom God promised. Yet, God wasn’t in the rebellion against Rome. He was in the absorbing of Rome’s might and fury on the cross so that its violence and venom might be overcome in that in taking it in it had nowhere else to go. God’s people were caught in their own willfulness and religion and they missed God.

It is difficult for me to be too hard on God’s people of yesteryear because I see the same tendencies in myself. I too get caught up in doing things my way. I want to see God’s will be done, his kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven. Sometimes I get so excited about it that I try to make it happen. I will force, strategize, and dare I say manipulate, all for God’s cause. Along the way, I make sure that I am dotting my spiritual I’s and crossing my religious t’s. After all, one has to be sure they are keeping in step with God. But, I am discovering that God doesn’t call me to force the kingdom. The kingdom is received. He doesn’t call me to play by the rules in order to find him. He isn’t in dead rules any way. When I live in this way, I grow distracted and miss what God is all about. I miss God and find that I am dislodging my spiritual hip from my shoulder wondering “How did I miss that?” I suppose it doesn’t have to be this way. It can be otherwise, but for it to be otherwise I have to start looking in a new direction. I have to take my eyes off myself, off trying to act my way to the life God desires for me. Instead, I can start opening my hands and my heart and saying “I know you are there. Don’t let me miss you.”

A fellow traveler,

Blake Shipp

Spiritual Formation Pastor

What is my next step?

I encourage you to consider the following as a way of handing off faith to your family. . .

Seeing God in the ordinary: We can see God in the ordinary rather than missing him by intentionally looking for him. This week, look for opportunities to talk about God’s involvement in the details of our lives. When you see a sunset you might say “Look at the wonderful sunset God has given us.” Or, as you discuss the highs and lows of the day you might say, “Isn’t it wonderful that God allowed you to have that opportunity.” As you talk about how God is involved in our lives the discussion can move to relating and responding to him in every moment.

I encourage you to consider the following as a way of nurturing your own faith. . .

Look for God in the ordinary: Learning to not miss God begins by recognizing that God is involved and present in every aspect of our lives. This week, try to pause in each conversation or with each experience and simply pray, “Lord where are you and what are you trying to teach me in this moment?” At the end of the day, reflect and journal about your experience. Where was God? What did he say? In what ways, if any, did he lead you to follow him rather than have it your way?