A PARTICULAR, UNIQUE PERSON

I've sung in mountain cathedrals

With steeples rising high

And altars made of evergreen

And windows made of sky.

     - Bob Bennett

This picture was taken by my sister-friend Jill when I visited her in East Tennessee too-many-years ago. We were both familiar with the Bob Bennett song, and hiking mountain trails together definitely felt like a holy place.

Jill and I have been friends since God led us together waaaay back in sixth grade, almost 50 years ago. We survived middle school and Wilford Gray's highschool science classes together, roomed together in college, stood up at each other's weddings, made multiple military moves together, and had babies together. We laughed, wept, and prayed together through the best and the worst life has thrown our way. I can't think of anyone outside my birth family who has known me longer, seen more clearly into my heart and soul, or loved me more faithfully and unconditionally than Jill.

Jill and I have a lot in common. We both love Jesus. We both appreciate a fine-looking horse. We both have white hair and beautiful grandbabies. We both enjoy music and the outdoors. We both really like to eat, and we both enjoy conversation over a glass of wine on the back porch at the end of the day.

Jill and I have much in common...but we are not the same. We are each unique.

We both enjoy music...but while I am content to sing along loudly with Phil Wickham on the car radio, Jill actually plays multiple instruments and plays them well.

We both enjoy the outdoors...I enjoy a leisurely hike on a graveled path or a gentle kayak on the lake, while Jills runs mountain trails and kayaks tumbling rivers.

My personality is quiet, hesitant, overly-introspective. Jill: lively, engaging, and bursting with energy.

We have a lot in common, but we are not the same.

* * * * *

Working through a list of Important Questions to Ask Your Parents last night, my youngest asked me: "What is one thing that you want for your children?"

I knew my answer immediately. It is the deepest longing of my heart, the thing I lie awake at 2:00 in the morning praying for, almost every single night. It's the thing that, when I meet with friends to pray together, it squeezes my heart so hard it makes me weep.

What is my deepest desire for you, beloved daughter of mine? What is my deepest desire for you and Blake, Martha and Justin, Benjamin, Tom and Carly, Nate and Abby, Reuben, Emily and Dennis, and all the beautiful grands?

I want you to know, all the way to your very core, how very much God loves you. I want you to know how deeply and faithfully Jesus loves you, and how very much he delights in you for the unique and precious child that you are.

But there is more...

I want you to know Jesus for the unique and beautiful person that he is. I want you to know and love him deeply, too.

* * * * *

Last night as I lay awake in the wee hours thinking about this burgeoning heart desire, and thinking about this dear, lovely Jesus that I so long for my children to know and love, it occurred to me...

We all - both inside the church and outside the church - when we encounter this idea of Jesus, if we give him more than a second's thought, we immediately begin to try to understand him from the context of who we are as individuals. This makes sense, because it is from the framework of my own personal understanding and experience that I engage with and process anything new or unfamiliar.

We ask questions like: Who is this man, Jesus, really? How is he like me? How is he different? What about him do I agree with and what can I affirm? What about him do I disagree with, and how does he offend me? Is he all that he says he is? What do his closest friends say about him, and are they people I would even like or respect? All kinds of good questions, worth study and contemplation.

If we do give this man Jesus more than a second's thought, we all - both inside the church and out - we all begin to try to make Jesus, whoever he really is, more like ourselves.

Am I politically conservative? If Jesus were living in America today, he would be, too.

Am I a social activist for a particular group of the marginalized and oppressed? If Jesus were here today, he would be a social activist, too.

Am I offended by a lack of formality and decorum in public worship services, or am I an advocate for exuberant religious expression? Whatever I am, Jesus would probably be that, too.

Do I like to sing along loudly with Phil Wickham, kayak a calm lake, or sit quietly on the perimeter of a noisy social gathering? I know Jesus completely gets that.

It seems like we are left with this ongoing tension: either we subtly make Jesus more like ourselves (and therefore much more comfortable to relate to) - or - we bump up against things about him that are very not like ourselves, things we cannot get comfortable with, and we are left with having to choose to either wrestle with this not-like-me Jesus or write him off altogether.

And that got me to thinking about Jill...

Who is very not-like-me in so very many ways, and yet who has shown me more of the power and majesty and absolute loveliness of Jesus than I could ever write.

* * * * *

And this leads me back to last night's Important Question.

My prayer, beloved daughter, is that you would know how very much God loves you, and that you would know and love Jesus. Not Jesus-like-you, not Jesus-like-me, not Jesus-like-(insert whatever affiliation or agenda here)...but the unique, particular person of Jesus himself. [Hint: You will have to spend time with him, and you will need your Bible.]

All those people - which is all of us - who say, "Jesus is like this" - or - "Jesus is like that"? Because we are all image-bearers, we probably have at least some small part of Jesus right; because we are all broken, we certainly have much of Jesus wrong. The important thing is: don't let all the voices drown out the voice of Jesus himself. Because he is altogether lovely.

* * * * *

Jill, I LOVE YOU. I am way overdue for a visit, sweet friend!