You became imitators of us and of the Lord, for you welcomed the message in the midst of severe suffering with the joy given by the Holy Spirit. (I Thessalonians 1:6)
I’m reading The Call by Os Guinness,
and something he wrote connected with something Dallas Willard wrote. The idea
was that we are supposed to imitate Christ. The problem is that I’m not a
carpenter. I don’t live in ancient Judea. I can’t make atonement for the sins of
the world. You get the picture. I can’t imitate Christ in the ways that might
seem obvious. But what Dallas Willard suggested is that we’re not supposed to dress
in robes, work as a carpenter (unless that’s our thing) and speak in parable or
work miracles. We’re supposed to act the way Jesus would act if He were a cashier
at a garden center, a gardener, a homeowner, a neighbor, a citizen… or whatever
it is you are. It goes back to the fad of decades ago, and the question, “What
would Jesus Do?”
My thoughts turned to my garden, though if
you asked me, I’m likely to say, “No, I’m not a gardener. I might be a person
who gardens, but I’m not a gardener.” What’s the difference? I’m not sure. As I
thought about imitating Jesus as the Gardener, I quickly became overwhelmed.
Jesus would know the pH of His soil, and exactly how long the sun shines on
each part of the garden. He would know precisely what to plant in each spot in
the garden to suit His purposes. He would meticulously weed the beds, tie up the
things that need to grow upward, and arrange for the beds to receive just the
amount of water to provide. He would know everything that I am both trying to learn
and resisting learning.
My attitude nose-dived. “It’s impossible! I
can’t …I may as well pull out everything I’ve put in and quit before I fail any
more than I already have…” and so on and so forth… The meme comes to mind of
the critter flat on the ground saying “I’ll be fine. I just need to be dramatic
first.”
I woke this morning still meditating on this.
I took Grace for a walk and collected more than a grocery bag of litter. Before
coming inside to get to work on this blog, I trimmed the lawn along two
sections of fence, weeded part of my neighbor’s garden, and cleaned the weeds and
leaflitter from one section of the fence along the driveway. Basically, I
puttered. I finally came inside about an hour later than I had planned to, fairly
pleased with the progress made even though it’s not all done. In fact, one of
my thoughts about doing it is that I’m likely to finish cleaning up just in
time to leave for Florida. But that’s OK.
I also came in with the understanding that in
terms of gardening, I need to work within what I know without fretting and
worrying about the fact that I can’t afford to make everything as perfect as I
assume Jesus would. I need to keep learning, but if some of my plants are “full
sun” and where I have available to plant them is “part sun,” that’s OK. I need
to learn, and maybe next year (if they come up) I can transplant them or give
them away. For now, it’s OK.
The second conclusion that I reached is that one
of the keys to imitating Christ is our priorities. God is supposed to come
first. People are second. One might say that they are the absolute priorities, The
job and oneself are third and fourth, but they’re not quite so absolute. They
may switch positions. We are certainly to do the best job we can and be willing
to learn how to do it better but at the same time, taking care of ourselves
influences our ability to do all the others, so it's OK to take a rest when you
get tired. It’s OK to do it wrong and fix it next year if that’s what you can
do. It’s OK to be limited and to work within the knowledge and budget you have.
While you are doing your job, you are to do
it. It’s not a time to spend on the phone. It’s not a time to go through your
recipe cards (so to speak.) Do the best
job you can. Give yourself over to doing it with all your heart for that time –
with a willingness to drop it if God calls you or someone needs you and would
actually benefit from your stopping your work.
I’m not sure where this will take me next,
but I’m hoping for a revolution.
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