It's Not Funny! [Part 1]

I just cannot write about theology right now. I can write and write and write and write, but just not about theology. Nothing about God or his attributes, or how the human can experience the divine, or how the scriptures prove this and disprove that. I just cannot.

This doesn't mean I don't believe in all of that anymore. It just means what it means. I can't write about it. And I like the fact that I cannot always write about it, because if I never got sick of writing these thesis papers, it would mean that I would be taking it way too seriously.

There are moments, especially as of lately, where I believe I am a person of great value. Like the world would screw up without me. But I'm in a constant state of realization that that is simply false. I can get lost in this doctrine, or that passage, or this type of ministry, but in the end I don't want any of that. I want what you want.

I want joy.

Joy doesn't come from books (although it often seems like it), and joy doesn't come from the television, or magazines, or movies, or...bible college (definitely not Bible college). I believe happiness is found in these things, but I don't see joy coming from those things.

Honestly and truthfully, my belief is that God, in making all things, made joy, and I believe that life in Christ is ultimate lasting joy (Ok, I realize I just said "Christ" and half, if not three fourths of you, just decided to stop reading...just hang with me!). And I usually find this when I'm not taking my job, or my ministry, or my life seriously. Because that's not what it's about.

The record of the apostles in the Bible is totally this way. The author of Hebrews says that some of them were risking their property in order to help other people out, and that they "gladly" gave their stuff to be burned in order to help their friends who were in jail. The early Christian writer Paul is always talking about the future joy he'll find in Christ, and how his present suffering or issues were not a big deal compared to the end game.

There's this colloquial saying amongst us evangelicals that goes something like this: "A heavenly mind makes a crummy earthly life." (Just read that again with grandma's voice). This phrase infers that if you think too much about heaven, you'll never be satisfied with what you have or are doing, and in turn, rot somewhere in Florida. I think there's a good amount of truth to that, but I would say that a heavenly mind often makes a more joyful earthly life. Because you're not taking the earthly part as serious as the heavenly part. Because it was those people in high school who thought their life meant everything and three bags of Fritos that were either failures or douchebags. Sometimes they got lucky and were both.

I see it boiling down to this: seeking "fulfillment" or "enlightenment" or "joy" or whatever we all want in common is not found here. Haven't we figured that out yet? I mean, hasn't your life sucked enough? Aren't there more wackjobs and freaks than heroes and saints? The common denominator is not that life right now rocks. For some people, it's awesome right now. But not everyone on earth will experience those good times. Some people live their whole lives without the good. But no one on this earth lives their whole life in bliss and total joy. And so the answer has to be found in suffering, and in pain. And, to me, the right answer would say, "This isn't it. If fact, it's the worst you'll ever have, because what's ahead is amazing. So stop sitting in your pain, stop wallowing in your sorrow, and pick up your head. Look the frick up! See? Every mountain, every blade of grass, every tree, and flower, and natural growth GOES UP! So why don't you?"

Look up.

Because the up is blue.

The up is limitless.

The down is the ground.

The down has limits.

The down is your own feet.

And your feet smell.