Imitating Christ

             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.