How it’s supposed to be

Jesus took water and he turned it into wine.

And he wants to take our water-like lives and turn them into wine-like lives.

I want to spend a few minutes contemplating, just a little more, what this means.

Clearly, it’s important to be clear about what this all means.  It’s not much of an exageration call the prosperity gospel evil.  To suggest that God is only with us when our lives are enjoyable  goes against too many scriptural principles to mention.

Especially by siezing on the metaphor that Jesus wants to turn our lives to wine, I realize I run the risk of implying that Jesus promises us riches and creature comforts.  I don’t believe that for one second.

I spent much of today trying to wrap my brain around this.  I considered all these rational criteria for understanding the distinction between immature selfishness and the sort-of wine that Jesus actually wants of our lives.

What occured to me (this is not an unusual realization for me) is that I’m overthinking it all.  Because we know.  We just know.

There are times that the very deepest parts of us says “This is what we were made for.”

There are times we enjoy, perhaps even intensely.    We might want these times to continue.  There is nothing inherently wrong with these feelings.  But they are not the same as that other feeling: Feeling free, feeling open.  It’s as if time flips on it’s side and spreads outward… a sort-of eternity.

For me, this feeling often revolves around community, nature, and simple things done well.   And when these times begin to fade, there is this disapointment.  Because somewhere, deep inside, I know.   I know that things are supposed to be a certain way.  And I had this little glimpse, this little tease, this little taste.  Some day, I’ll get to eat that whole meal… and that’s a pretty awesome thing.


Published by


The stories that speak to our soul begin at a home where things are good. Cinderella is happy with her father. The three little pigs have grown up and are ready to move on. Bilbo Baggins knows his shire. Adam and Eve walk with God in the garden. My story isn’t much different. There was a time and a place where it was so good. There was a community for me. And there was joy. We were filled with a sincere desire to do what God wanted us to do. We possessed explanations and understandings that went a certain distance. We offered security and tradition and laughter. For a lot of years, that was enough. I have this sense that it was also necessary. I have this surety, now, that it certainly wasn’t everything. There were some things that became increasingly problematic as time went by. There was a desire to package things up so very neatly. Sunday morning services were efficient and strategic. Responses to differences of opinion were premeditated. Formula began to feel more important than being real. A real desire for everybody to be one of us, but also a real sense that there is an us, and there is a them. They carried a regret that it has to be this way, but deeper than this regret was a surety that this is how it is. I began to recognize that there was a cost of admission to that group. There were people who sat at the door, collecting it. Those people wished they didn’t have to. But I guess they felt like they did have to. They let some people in, and they left others out. There was a provisional membership. My friends did possess a desire to accommodate people that are different… But it would be best for everyone concerned if they were only a little bit different. I did make many steps forward in this place. Before I went there, there were lies that I believed. Some of the things that I learned there, I still hold on to. But that place is not my home anymore. Those people are not my community anymore. There were times it was hard. I am engaged in a different community now. And I am working hard at finding a place in many different places now, embracing many different kind of families. I don’t always get it right. I am trying and I am learning and I am moving foreward. I have this sense that I am not alone in these experiences. I believe that we are tribe and we are growing. We are pilgrims, looking for a new holy land. Perhaps we won’t settle on the same spot of land. But if you’ve read this far, I am thinking that we are probably headed in the same general direction. I have begun this blog to talk about where my journey is taking me. In every space, we find people who help us along. And maybe we can get to know each other, here. We embrace ideas that provide a structure for the things we believe, and perhaps we can share these too. Maybe we can form a group, a tribe, a community, if we can figure out a way to work through the shadow of these kinds of groups, if we can bigger than the us-and-them ideas that have caused so much trouble in the past. As important as they are, I think the very nature of online interactions will lend itself to something equally powerful. I am stumbling onto these practices that my grandfathers and great grandfathers in the faith engaged in. I am learning about these attitudes and intuitions are so different than the kinds of things we call doctrine today. I don’t know about you, but I am running out of patience, and even interest, in conversations about doctrine. I hope that maybe you’ll share a little something about where your journey is taking you, and maybe our common joys and challenges might help each other along, and we might lift each other up. Thanks for doing this journey with me.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s