My favorite question. It embraces infinity. Seeks it out, kisses it on the lips, nabs its nipples and makes wild passionate love to it. Imagination takes us to places reality might never envision. And reality is creative in the extreme. Limited only by your imagination. This is my first 'What if' posting. It won't be my last. I started my own personal'What if' in response to 'what ev'. Now, I share.
What if you really did what Jesus said? Could you? Is it even possible? Are the directions mutually consistent, or would you find yourself blocked by inconsistencies? Has anybody ever done it? Has anybody ever tried? If you know someone, please leave a comment. Leave a comment anyway. I know you're reading - 313 hits in a month isn't one over-zealous fan hoping for a new post.
What would it entail to follow that advise today? I am reminded of this today by a Facebook friend, in the throes and woes of birthing a sermon. His topic is that tantalizingly tortuous one: No man can serve two masters. One is God. One is Money. WWJD? FUCK MONEY and the horse it rode in on. Whoa. Really? You betcha, Sarah Palin. I'm not judging, mind you. I'm just sayin' - why worry about clothes when YOU are so much more than a lily in a field. I first read that line about ten years ago. My first thought? What about the stink weed? God made that too. What if I'm the stink weed? Or the wharf rat? Those are also of God. Sure, lilies are nice and pretty, but lots in God's creation isn't. Does God's little stink weed serve his purpose as much as God's lily?
Of course it does. And it lives longer too. People pick the lily, stick it in a vase and it dies forlorn, uncopulated by the honey bee of love. The stink weed grows on, sucked and fucked by the honeybees, and lots of other bugs and hummingbirds and it grows and thrives. The prissy, sissy, delicate, needy lily dies childless. For me, I'll be the stink weed. The wharf rat eats and mates and eats some more, a thriving species. God loves it well, I'm certain.
And money? I'll have to get with you on that one next time. I think way too much about money. I don't worry about what I'll eat - I have food stamps, thank you, I eat quite well. And I do mean thank you. Very much.
I don't worry about home - I live in a lovely home and am able toil some in order to pay what my dear friend considers valuable consideration in return. It's a beautiful home, in a beautiful setting, and yet, the most valuable to me is the friend who allows me to share in it. Frankly, just the friendship alone in a tent in a desert would still be invaluable. She reminds me everyday that I just can't do it alone. And that I am not alone.
I don't worry about clothes. I have plenty. They don't cost much. I can look good for little.
But money? I still worry. Car insurance doesn't pay itself and the cost of gas keeps going up. Baby needs a new set of tires. A tuneup might prevent future bills and I'm pretty sure it's time for brakes. Don't even ask me how old the muffler is.
I no longer need money for tobacco addiction. I've virtually given up alcohol. So more and more, I require less and less. But when you need it, there's nothing like it. I think most people read those words "you can't serve both God and Money" and just assumes, God didn't really mean for us to walk away from our jobs, to not toil, to not reap, to not store for the future, to not worry about tomorrow, because today has enough worry in it. Not really. God feeds the birds, but they have to wake up in the morning and stick their beaks in the ground to pull out those worms. It's a good point, but surely God wasn't being literal, was she?
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