I Live Now!

My name is Chris and I have, at times, tried to intellectualize my way into God’s grace. I have, without knowing, actively pursued works to earn my salvation. I have, without noticing, been so involved in giving love that I have failed to receive it. And I have always kept these struggles to myself.

But I have decided that I am going to put aside my intellectual pursuit of God and live in a world beyond reason or understanding. I desire to experience God and I am prepared to step into a world of faith, closing my eyes as I leap, and trusting that the God who knew me before he formed me in my mother’s womb loves me beyond anything I can understand and will catch me.

I am afraid, both to leap and to share this part of my story with you. But I believe that, as Paul has claimed, “I have become all things to all men so that by all possible means I might save some.”

So, welcome to the journey that is my new life… please join me, and stay engaged…

Thursday, November 15, 2012

Preparing the Harvest Begins with the Plow


November 15, 2012

“Still another said, ‘I will follow you, Lord; but first let me go back and say goodbye to my family.’ Jesus replied, ‘No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God.’”
Luke 9: 61-62

I have never been a farmer. In fact, the closest I ever came was a little twenty by twenty foot raised garden I once built in the backyard of one of my houses. And I haven’t known many farmers either. But the ones that I have known are not the kind of men to just sit around and drink beer. They are also not the kind of men who have a whole lot of wealth, or worries – aside from the conditions that provide their crops a decent chance of survival.

Most of the farmers I have known have been the kind of men that do not lack in character. They rise early, and work diligently through the day, knowing that the fruit of their labor is almost always directly proportionate to the amount of work they put in. And they know work. I think eight hours a day in an air-conditioned space is difficult.

I watched a man harvest a couple dozen acres of corn one afternoon, using a modern combine, careful with every turn to capture every last row. He stopped the machine, interested in why our film crew was capturing footage of him. Even with an enclosed space and glass windows the man was covered in sweat and dust. In shaking his hand, I could feel callouses and see dirt that had all but become a part of him. Harvesting is just one part of the job. His favorite, he said with a smile. Because harvesting means money.

But what about plowing?

While my garden was tiny, there was always a starting point each spring when I would head back outside after the mild Florida winter and begin the process of deciding what seeds I wanted to plant and where. That was always fun, picturing the produce at the end of the growing season. What wasn’t fun was taking the ho and shovel and breaking the dirt that had sat for months unattended, clumping together with time into solid nuggets of sometimes impenetrable rock. Even if the soil was somewhat loose, it still had to be broken and moved and stacked in rows before the first seed was ever sown.
Those first days were always the most difficult, when the plowing was done, and sometimes the only thing that got me through the sunburned backs and dehydration was the thought that somewhere down the road I would have the chance of eating cucumbers and squash and zucchini and peppers and onions and so much more fresh from my own garden.

Yet this was a small garden, manageable by hand.

I picture the farmer Jesus references, more calloused and dirty and rough than I would ever be in my little garden, making the decision whether to begin the task of plowing. He probably had an ox or a mule, and acres of land to tend. He probably didn’t carry much water on him, or have the shelter of much more than a piece of cloth over his forehead to protect him from the sun and wind. He certainly didn’t have air condition, or a seat to rest upon. His work was hard, but necessary if he was going to eat.

I imagine the people that Jesus was speaking to, on the side of the road as he made His was toward Jerusalem, knew a little more about farming that I do. They probably knew how difficult it was to steer an ox once it made headway, and how much work must be done by hand to prepare a field for seed. They probably had some idea of how much work would be required, once the process was begun, in order to see it to the end. I’m sure most of these people didn’t have stashes of fruits and vegetables in their homes, and they certainly didn’t have the local grocery store to buy out-of-season fruit from at any time of the year. These people were rugged, living off the land. And when Jesus made this comment, I imagine it was completely disheartening to many.

There is a cost to putting one’s hand to the plow, and to seeing the difficult job done to the end. In addition to patience and diligence, the physical strains and pains, and the fact that it was simply a difficult task that would take time and energy away from other more desirable activities, there is also the fact that plowing was only the first step of a process that guaranteed no rewards. It was not as though plowing a field would produce a harvest immediately. Seeds would be have to be spread, watered, nurtured. Weeds would have to be removed. Time would pass between the plow and the harvest, and if one began the task of plowing, they must surely know that there were no promises of success. But the task would have to be done by someone, if anyone was to reap.

Fortunately, for most of us, Jesus says it is only if we desire to be of service in the kingdom of God that we must be prepared to see the whole process through. For most of us, we can hop up and down with the plow and consider what it means to begin the task of plowing the field, of laying the groundwork, and then we can hand the actual work off to someone else. For most of us, we can look back after a little while and say, you know what, this isn’t for me and I’m going to do something else until its time to harvest or, better yet, to eat.

But for some of us, there is a burning sensation in our hearts that flows down to our hands as we grab the oxen reins and hold the plow in hand. We look at those we love – the ones we know we will serve in setting up the harvest – and we think about those we will never know who will benefit from our efforts. And then we decide, do I have what it takes to see this through?

So, as I look at my hand now upon the plow, I think back to a few days ago – a few weeks ago – a few years ago – and I count the cost. I used to be content to sow or to reap. I used to be content to simply do something else until it was time to eat.

But now, well, things have changed for me…

Friends, my hand is on the plow, and I have decided on this day that I am going to serve the kingdom of God. Sometimes I don’t know what I am supposed to look forward to, but I do know that I no longer desire to look back… I desire to work hard, to toil, to invest myself in this field because I know that neither this life nor the next is about me.

So, a new phase in my journey begins, and I wonder, will I see you alongside next to me in the field, plow in hand, head aimed forward, building the kingdom…

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