February 2008

Sometimes, I think that the world would generally be a better place if everyone thought the same way I did. Okay, truthfully, I think this way more often then I’d care to mention. Now, I get the feeling that I’m not alone in this–that there are many people just like me who want everyone else to conform their thoughts and opinions to theirs.

I’ve been teaching youth through the book of Philippines with a friend of mine and yesterday we were discussing the first few verses of Chapter 2. Paul is instructing the church to be like minded. This seems like a great idea. I can’t help but imagine how much more enjoyable Church would be if everyone there thought the same way I did.

I know others agree with me. I’ve been in many a church meeting where one individual would stand up and proclaim both their cause, and their frustration that the whole church isn’t supporting it. You can tell they’re wanting so badly to scream: “Why don’t any of you think the same way I do?” It’s written blatantly across their ever reddening face.

We spend a greet deal of time and effort trying to win others to share our opinions.

What if Paul meant for our like mindedness to be achieved differently?

A verse previous Paul is writing about finding encouragement in being united with Christ. At the root of the church is a relationship with Jesus Christ. As members of the Church we are to be chiefly united with Christ.

What if we pursued that wholeheartedly?

What if we, all of us, each member of the Church, pursued being like minded with Christ?

If that were to happen, would we find that, although we have different opinions on the peripheral stuff, at the core we had the same mind frame?

Perhaps, our like mindedness needs to come though the pursuit of being like Christ, and not through changing others.

We finished off a jar of peanut butter today.

A year ago we were given this two Kilogram jar of peanutty goodness. At first it was smooth and creamy: the two characteristics most important in peanut butter.

Now I love peanut butter. There are few things as enjoyable in the morning as watching the peanut butter heat and melt into all the crevasses of my toast. You can watch it become even more creamy. So creamy, that if you don’t hold it level to the floor as you lift it to your mouth, all the peanut butter will run off save for that bit gripped by the coarse texture of the toasted bread. Oh, and then to finish it off with a cold glass of milk is divine.

But sadly over time it lost something. It lost it’s goodness. It lost that ability to melt. It lost that ability to excite my senses.

As the best before date was passed the peanut butter became less desirable to eat. In fact consumption became a chore. Instead of waking excited to spread some on toast I woke knowing that I would eventually have to do something with it.

I’d open the lid, and while it smelled the same it’s appearance has changed. There near the bottom, where peanut butter once was, I found lumps of peanut and pools of oil. Jabbing a knife in and swirling helped some, but could never restore the luster that the peanut butter once held.

That peanut butter did not finish well.

Sadly, many will be like that peanut butter: they won’t finish life well. The years will pass them by and they’ll come undone. No attempts of others to help them get back together will work. What was once invigorating will be no more.

the Apostle Paul writes about finishing well. In 1 Corinthians he informs, or reminds, us that finishing well is hard work. There is the example of the athlete who trains hard with no guarantee of a victory.

Then, in the next chapter, he tells us the story of the Israelites in the wilderness. People who failed to finish well. You’d think that it would be a given that God’s chosen people would finish well.

But they didn’t.

Paul reminds us that many of them died and their bodies were scattered across the desert. This is about the pinnacle of finishing poorly in Jewish terms. Not only did they fail to reach the promised land, but they didn’t even get proper tombs and burials.

They finished very poorly.

We’d do well to remember when that our name, or heritage, will not guarantee a good end. Just because you say Kraft Creamy Peanut butter on the outside, does not mean that you will finish well. Not even being a son of Abraham means you will finish well.

Perhaps there are other classifications we take for granted.

Maybe even calling yourself a Christian does not mean you will finish well.